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#rex is everyone’s favorite
sun-roach · 11 months
Text
Just a random thought…
What if the long necks created twin clones as an experiment to minimize costs and to test if it enhances any stats? (It doesn’t, which is why they stopped the experiments at one point. There would be only a few handful twins that made it)
Idk why but I imagine Wolffe and Fox as twins that argue almost every second, but if you talk shit about one of the twins, the other one will go feral and bite you.
They both share the core values of duty, honor and vision (, to see the republic succeed and the vode grow). Which is why both are very protective of their brothers, especially the younger ones. Both are extremely good strategists looking for the best solutions.
Despite their similarities they tend to see almost everything differently. Wolffe concentrates more on what is, while Fox relies more on intuition (, which will later get tainted/ clouded by the dark side thanks to Palps).
This often results in unnecessary fights and arguments.
Yet in a real fight, on a battlefield, they always got each others backs and compliment each other. Wolffe is stronger and more aggressive in combat, while Fox is quicker and more agile. They are two soldiers of one soul. Inseparable, no matter how far away they are from each other. Their hearts beat in unison to a rythm only known to them.
Wolffe: Di'kut!
Fox: Shabuir!
Alpha-17: >:|
Alpha-17: I should cut their tongues out. Why the kriff are they fighting now?
Cody: *sighs* Well neither of them wants to play the role of the loser
Alpha-17: This is creative training. There is no loser... *growls *
Wolffe: I am older. You are the loser!
Fox: You are only older by ten milliseconds! We are from the same tube!
Wolffe: and yet i am not as ugly as you!
Fox: We have the same face, utreekov!
Wolffe: I got prettier eyes
Fox: *blood red eyes, different to the vode's dark eyes, sparkle as he looks down* I am the loser?
Wolffe: *gulps and shifts awkwardly with guilt * N-Nayc. I am…
Fox: Yes you are! *grins sly*
Wolffe: You kriffing shabuir!!!! *tackles Fox to the ground *
Alpha-17: I swear. I am surrounded by idiots
Cody: ???
Alpha-17: Don’t look at me like that, Kote. You are the worst of your batch. Where is my favorite?
Bly: I am here!
Alpha-17: I said my favorite
Ponds: hello?
Alpha-17: …
Rex: What’s going on here?
Alpha-17: There he is!
435 notes · View notes
luminitewrites · 1 year
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Nova
Rating: T Word Count: ~5,700 Warnings: Brief memories of/current trauma from being swallowed alive, brief contemplation of death and what lies beyond
So after seeing the absolutely stunning art that @themeeplord posted of Naff's leviathan!Eclipse and fisher!Y/N, there's no way I could pass up writing a small something for it. I might have made Eclipse a tad bigger in this drabble purely for size difference purposes, but Meep's depiction of them is the inspiration for this piece. (I hope you don't mind the tag, Meep! ;w;) This drabble is based off of @naffeclipse's In Deep Dreams Between the Waves (so very highly recommend!!) and set sometime after it, so there will be allusions to spoilers herein.
Enjoy!
~~~
The siren call of the ocean lulls your boat as much as it does you. Out here in the vast expanse of endless water where sea merges with ocean, the gentle stirring of the morning sun has yet to reach full wakefulness, casting the sky in a beautiful watercolor of lush indigos and mellow purples. The breeze caressing your face tells you it will be a hot day, but for now, it’s a welcomed brush against your skin.
You’ve opted for a less-bundled-up attire since you know what and who awaits you shortly. The loose t-shirt flutters at your back, and your light shorts and bare feet bask in the open, salty air. Curling your toes in excitement, you cannot help the enchanted smile that has yet to leave your face. You’ve been looking forward to today as the rough weather in recent weeks has kept you from seeing your friend. Well, it probably wouldn’t have completely kept you at bay were it not for said friend being very insistent about you staying home to wait out the hurricane. Something about being safe and warm and taking care of your health. Complete bogus, if anyone were to ask you.
But, of course, Eclipse always has other ideas about what’s best for you, and after much bartering in your dreams and getting nowhere, you’d caved to his utterly ridiculous demands. The oversized mer has a habit of being just as obstinate as you. You’d once thought you could outmatch his stubbornness, but turns out, it’s hard to say no when his big eyes turn soft and pleading, like you’re breaking his heart by even considering stepping foot outside during a nasty storm. Never mind that it’d been because you’d wanted to see him. He’d been adamant that the visits in your dreams could sate your loneliness in the meantime.
Needless to say, you’ve been chomping at the bit to get out. The hurricane had been circling your little island like a harrowing shadow for over a week, but it finally began tapering off yesterday, and by nightfall, Eclipse gave you his reluctant approval to come out the following day.
He probably didn’t mean that as an excuse for you to sacrifice sleep and slip out before the break of dawn, but he almost certainly knew that without you needing to say anything suggestive of it last night. The memory of his narrowed gaze and disapproving pout still makes you chuckle even now, and you can only imagine that same expression on his face when he sees you out here.
You’ve already dropped anchor and settled at the edge of your boat with your legs dangling over it and your arms propped atop the railing. The breeze ruffles your hair as it pleases, and it tickles your ears while you hum to yourself a gentle tune. It’s a unique one that transcends time and the waves themselves, flowing from within your chest and playing a soothing chord that first tugs softly and then a little firmer.
When your voice starts to rouse and the first few notes whisper past your lips, an answering echo from far, far below sounds beneath your feet and travels across the ocean floor.
Instantaneous is the grin tugging at your cheeks, and you beam at the way the wind suddenly billows in a different direction and sends your trusty flag flapping like a resounding applause. Your Rustbucket II bobs up and down as the water begins to turn choppy, creating a thrill of a ride as you eagerly peer down into the inky blue.
As bubbles form below, you dismiss what most sailors would consider an omen and instead lean over the railing as much as you can while sitting. Your legs swish happily, your skin prickling when a shiver courses through you. To your surprise, however, the bubbles stop after a few suspenseful seconds. A flash of a large shadow is all you catch sight of, but your friend doesn’t surface as you’d expected. Confused, you wait a moment more and then pull your legs under you and stand up so that you can lean over the railing as far as you can without falling in.
“Eclipse?” you call out. Your head tilts to the side while you listen.
Nothing but ocean responds.
A frown replaces your smile, and you wonder if something has temporarily distracted the mer, and he’s swimming off to go chase a giant squid or something similar. Before you can settle back down and wait for him to return, a colossal burst thunders behind you without warning and rocks your boat. Gasping, you have all but a moment to spin on your heel as Eclipse breaches in a swift motion that sends a terrific cascade of water directly down onto your boat and consequently you.
In mere seconds, you are entirely drenched in seawater and sputtering.
Soaked hair draped over and blinding you, you sigh loudly and brush it out of your face. Far, far above, your friend gazes down with a textbook version of glee. As soon as he sees your expression, a harmonious warble not unlike a laugh rumbles from his chest.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” you say in faux exasperation while wringing the water out of your hair. “Not like you haven’t done this before.”
The mer lowers in the water until his head is level with you, ray-like frills flicking, and your bond tells you exactly what he’s thinking, as if he were saying the words aloud.
And yet, you still fall for it every time.
You roll your eyes, and Eclipse chitters his delight.
“I guess it’s not like I wasn’t going to get wet anyways,” you huff in defeat.
Deciding it’s a lost cause to drain the water from your dripping clothes, you trudge over to him instead, making sure to step carefully through the large puddles. Yellow overlaid by impenetrable black oversees your maneuvering to be certain you reach the other side safely. Once you’re within reach, Eclipse leans in a little more, allowing you to rest your small hand against his large head and press a kiss between his eyes despite the little trick he pulled on you.
You watch the sharp yellow disappear as he basks in your affection and croons an unmistakably happy song. It’s enough to warrant the return of your smile.
“Good morning, big guy,” you say against his wet scales. “Missed you.”
The sentiment is returned tenfold through your bond, staggering in its sincerity, and Eclipse’s love threatens to reduce you to a puddle. The companionship with the leviathan has altered you in ways you could have never dreamed of, making you forever grateful for the day you discovered and helped him when he was but a little fish. You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world because a life without Eclipse is one you can’t fathom. He means everything to you.
As your thoughts shift, Eclipse hears them just as if you’d spoken, and a low sound purrs from his throat. He nuzzles you with utmost gentleness, and you press as close to him as you can.
Yeah, you missed this. Shared dreams are one thing, but having him here with you in the flesh is incomparable. It’s your lifeblood.
When you pull back, the leviathan peers at you again. His expression is so compassionate that it sets your heart soaring like you are a fish in the sea swimming alongside him. The excursions you’ve had with him in the deep blue aren’t too far from that feeling, and it’s set in the very plans you have for later today. You intend to spend as much time as you can with the mer, and that means taking a hearty swim with his current guiding you along.
However, whatever soft moment you’re sharing now is wholly ruined when Eclipse chooses then to open his mouth and drag his serpentine tongue all the way up your front.
You yelp at the unexpected lick, and very swiftly, you are drenched in more than just water.
“Eclipse!” you cry in dismay.
Orange and red frills flutter in contentment. There is no remorse on the other’s face.
“Now I’m covered in gross saliva!” you further protest to express just how disgruntled you are. You shake your hands, and two wet globs fling off.
Eclipse churrs and clicks unhelpfully. It’s a bit similar to the squeaks of a dolphin, and after a fruitless attempt to wipe your face as best as you can, you glower up at your talkative friend. 
He seems to be cycling through a whole host of expressions today because the one staring you down is now unquestionably smug. 
You snort at the little—large—devil.
“Just what was that for anyways?”
The mer considers for a moment and then tilts his head to the side a little, eyelids falling low like he’s miming sleep. Then, a massive hand lifts out of the water to gently poke a long claw at you, followed by a throaty grumble that shakes your boat.
Ah. So that’s what this is about, huh. Should’ve known skipping out on sleep would come back to bite, or rather, lick you. You can’t say you didn’t see this coming. 
“I promise I got enough sleep all through that nasty hurricane,” you counter adamantly. Eclipse looks far from convinced, so you continue on. “Even still, I have a cabin I can always dip inside for a quick nap if need be. Or you can float on your back and snooze with me on top like we usually do. We have the whole day to ourselves, big guy. And besides, I thought you missed me.”
Eclipse releases another series of noises at that, which are just plain mournful, and the flood of insistent reassurance and concern makes you huff and smile.
“I know, I know. I’m just teasing. I think I’m allowed to since I’m currently covered in…” You sniff and then grimace. “Overwhelming fish breath and questionable fluids.”
More snaps and clicks, but none of them are truly offended. Eclipse matches your fake glare easily, and when you playfully stick out your tongue, his mouth curls with a croon, and he slithers his own tongue back out again.
You hastily retreat, hands lifting.
“Woah, there! Okay, message received. Put that thing back where it came from, or so help me, I’ll turn this boat around.”
Your friend blows out a warm gust of air that just heightens the sticky feeling all over your body, and your arms drop as the mer retracts his appendage with rampant amusement. Clearly, your threat was too transparent to be taken with any modicum of seriousness. Not that you expected Eclipse to believe it for a second anyways. He knows just how much you’ve been aching to see him, and even without the words to verbalize it, he’s showing how much he’s missed you too. You haven’t missed the little display of the fins and frills around his head upon his arrival. They’ve been fluttering since you first spoke, a subtle indicator of your friend’s elated state.
Maybe it’s in a sign of good faith or repentance, but Eclipse gingerly rests a large hand palm-up on your boat right next to you. An offer. You consider the translucent webbing between the smooth surface of his digits like it houses a tremendously difficult question you don’t already know the answer to. A few moments you spend hemming and hawing in exaggeration, and to his credit, Eclipse waits patiently—hopefully—for you to hop on, the ocean churning noticeably from the swishing of his powerful tail.
You give a plaintive sigh.
“I suppose I can acquiesce this one request,” you say, snickering at the uncontrollable, excited thumping against the side of your boat from Eclipse’s fins.
He eagerly curls and uncurls his fingers as you step around the sprawled drape of the scarlet frills that adorn his wrist, planting your hands first on his palm and then crawling across until you’re seated in the middle. You’ve learned from experience that it’s best to remain off your feet when being lifted if you want to retain your balance. Eclipse will never let you fall and would almost certainly help you to remain standing if you wobbled, but sitting down for the little ride grants you a bit more stability. 
With the utmost care, the mer hoists you out of your boat and over to him. He nuzzles you once more with a soft coo, and then he lowers into the water until only his head and the hand you rest upon aren’t submerged.
You smile up at him.
“Thanks, big guy, but I’m already wet, so I might as well wash this off.”
Eclipse churrs and sinks a little deeper so that the water just laps over his palm. You pat him in appreciation, and he curiously watches as you begin to cup the ocean in your hands and rinse your face and then scrub at your body.
It doesn’t take long to get to a somewhat reasonably clean state again, though you doubt anything in Eclipse’s saliva would be truly harmful to you. The pungent smell, however, might be downright criminal, and that’s saying something because you’ve been around fish for years. But at the end of the day, it’s worth it because it’s still part of your friend, and you wouldn’t change anything about him.
Once the sticky substance has washed away, you lean back on your hands, and Eclipse’s large fingers press protectively at your back. His contentment is visible in the shine of glowing yellow and the peaceful glaze of his languid movements. He floats in place next to your boat with the waves barely disturbing him. The magnitude of his size strikes you yet again despite how much time you’ve spent at his side all these years. Maybe the separation brought on by the storm afflicted your memory of his stature, but you don’t mind the awe that fills you at the leviathan or how small you suddenly feel in his grasp.
You’ve never been safer in the claws of a mer, and that will never fail to warm your heart.
Eclipse trills at the emotions shared through your bond, and with a melted expression, he draws you closer. You are gently deposited atop his chest, and once you’re sure of your footing, you approach his beaming maw. The mer meets you halfway, and when your arms embrace him as much as they can, he releases a slow breath that chases away any chill from the water.
Together, you stay like that in the quiet stillness of dawn, the first cracks of light just kissing the horizon. The world is waking up once more, and you have been given the best greeting of all. After days of restlessness and anxiety and longing, your mind is finally at ease. It’s a serenity that touches your soul, mirroring the same peace from your friend.
Sometimes, a shadow of a terrible memory graces your consciousness, and phantoms of ghastly yellow and purple snap at you. Those awful, living nightmares have grown less obtrusive as the months have passed, fading ever steadily with the more time you spend on the waves with Eclipse. You know you are safe now. There are some things that take more than reassurance to overcome, however, set off by triggers that you’re still learning to pinpoint, but with time and exposure to the sea that is a second home to you, the initial flinching and brief bursts of fright will diminish.
Eclipse’s presence has been grounding all the while. He’s stuck with you through every crest and trough, understanding your inner turmoil better than any explanation you could try to come up with. He’s felt your fear and pain and determined that it’s now his to bear as well if it means it will bring you comfort and recovery sooner. The memories are no less horrible for him too, and you occasionally catch a glimpse of his remembrance of prying apart serrated jaws and reaching for your frantic form.
It’s a shared burden between the two of you. You will see it through together.
 A shiver that can’t be blamed on the breeze travels through your body.
Sensing the direction of your thoughts, Eclipse curls his webbed hand even more so around your comparatively smaller frame, like he’s letting you know that he won’t ever let anything take you away from him again. A quiet purr vibrates from his chest, and he nudges you with his cheek until you look up at him again. His scales are creased with worry, but you pet one of his claws to reassure him.
“I’m alright, big guy. I’ve got you here, don’t I?”
Better words couldn’t have been chosen as your leviathan chitters in agreement. The sound soothes the worries of your mind, chased by the fearsome predator who has become your protector. You enjoy the intimate moment with him and the heart-skipping way he stares at you leaning into his grasp.
But that’s all abruptly broken by a thunderous growl that shakes through your feet.
In an instant, Eclipse looks mightily embarrassed, and you flash a grin.
“Someone’s hungry,” you tease, tapping your foot to indicate the petulant thrum that had come from his stomach further down.
The mer shakes water off his frills like a dog, sniffing the air and frowning before his pupils constrict, and his head snaps downward and off to the side at the water. It would seem he’s already locked on to a potential prey. You wonder if he’s about to tear off in the direction of said prey, but Eclipse tips his head back over at you, frills twitching with anticipation. He then taps the tip of a finger at your stomach in question.
You do your best to keep your smile from twisting.
“Not quite a fan of eating raw fish, thanks. This one’s all you, buddy.”
Eclipse emits a distinct whine at your refusal, rays drooping.
“I’ll eat later, promise. It’s still early for breakfast anyways. But I guess I could always just take a chomp out of you if you want me to eat fish so bad, huh?”
Three rapid clacks of sharp teeth are your answer, Eclipse pretending to snap them at you instead like maybe he’ll take a nibble out of you, and you giggle at the fake threat. He squints at you, supposedly very intimidating, you’re sure. His fins flap against the surface of his water much like his tail, and the loud whoosh of air from his gills sounds like a heavy sigh.
“Adorable,” you remark, and Eclipse puffs, his ray-like frills expanding like an orange peacock. “Yes, yes, you’re very big and scary. Now go catch your breakfast, you oversized guppy.”
An aggrieved grumble from the mer shakes through your body, and Eclipse sinks into the deep, pausing long enough to make sure you’re treading water easily enough on your own once you’re submerged.
You give him a little wave, legs swishing beneath you, and a flash of warmth stirs in your chest in response from him.
The giant mer disappears from sight rather quickly, likely sensing the direction his prey has swam off to. He won’t be gone long. You’re confident in his hunting abilities, and the only times it takes awhile are when he’s feeling playful and turning it into a game.
Without the support of your friend to keep you afloat, you paddle over to your boat to conserve your energy. A quick climb up your ladder, and you’re aboard once more and perusing the still water-logged floor with a shake of your head. Your mild disapproval is countered by a sense of indignation within your core from the mer far below.
Not my fault.
Even when he’s focused on hunting, he’s always got to get his two cents in. You snort and step across the slick surface into your cabin. 
While food isn’t exactly on your mind right now, you do find something special in sharing a meal together, so you decide to rummage through your kitchenette for a small snack. There are some granola bars you’ve stashed in a cabinet exactly for this reason, so after snagging one, tearing off the wrapper, and disposing the trash in the bin so you won’t have to worry about it later, you shuffle back outside.
The sun is still in its infancy, but the thin streams of light are already casting a new layer of warmth. The streaks of burnt orange remind you of your beloved mer, rippling across the darkly painted sky. Minutes trickle by with nothing but nature for miles, allowing your thoughts to meander. As you take in its beauty, you’re reminded of its resilience and how it will continue to exist long after you’ve passed. The sun will continue to rise and set; the waves will continue to crash and roll and traverse the world. It makes you wonder, head tipping up to admire the stars, what it will be like one day when your and Eclipse’s time comes to an end. There is assurance in that you will go together, bound so intrinsically as mer and human. Such an occurrence is far down in the future, barely conceivable when you have so much life left to live with Eclipse, but as you stand under the starlight’s ever watchful gaze, you muse quietly.
Will you trade a life on the water for an eternity in the stars? Will the galaxies become your new waves, the constellations your new islands? What will it be like to explore the great expanse that rivals even your tremendous ocean?
Your vision shuts to the ethereal light, and you feel the answer in your soul that returns from the leviathan himself.
Harmony. It will be harmony, entwined with you and him forever singing that sweet song that ties you in scarlet thread.
Smile warmer than the sleepy sun, you’re not at all surprised when you hear a splash and open your eyes to see your close friend next to your boat again, waiting patiently for you to emerge from being lost in thought. His tender love is palpable, resonating from deep within your chest and guiding you over to him. As you near, you notice the edge of a tail fin poking out of his maw, and a snicker escapes you.
“Breakfast was successful, I take it?”
Eclipse hums and then in a perfectly unnecessary act opens his mouth to show you just how big of a catch he got. His rows of teeth have expertly speared the swordfish, and while impressive, you know why he’s showing off.
You hold up a hand dismissively.
“Yeah, still not happening.” You wave your granola bar under Eclipse’s dissatisfied scrutiny when he seals his maw shut in suspicion. “I found something else to munch on instead. Extra nutritious. You want some?”
Eclipse hisses like you personally offended him, and you bite back a laugh as you break off a piece of your snack and toss it in your mouth. Last time you tried to feed him some of your “nasty human food,” he wheezed and spat out the microscopic morsel and then proceeded to drag his claws against his tongue like you’d terrorized his tastebuds. He’s so goofily dramatic when it comes to most of your meals and snacks that don’t involve seafood, and he plays it up extra just for you because you adore his theatrics. You know as much because you’d asked him once why he’d reacted that way, and he’d answered with a photographic memory of your face flushed from laughter and your arms clutching your stomach from a time not too long prior.
Needless to say, your cheeks had immediately turned hot yet again, that time for a different reason, and you’d tried and failed to brush off Eclipse’s endeared cooing at your fluster.
He’s such a rascal. Wily prankster of a mer. You more than cherish him.
Taking another bite of your snack, you lean against the railing while Eclipse begins to chew on his meal. You know that one fish won’t be enough to feed a mer his size, but it’ll at least be enough to stave off his hunger for a little bit. The warmth in your core tells you Eclipse isn’t eager to leave your side for longer than necessary. He’s just as intent on companionship as you are.
Swallowing the mouthful of granola, you say, “I brought my pan flute with me again. Maybe we can give your song another shot later today?”
A tremendous purr rumbles across the waves. At the same time, the contentment behind your sternum spikes, and you sigh happily.
“I think I’ve got the first part down,” you add. “It’s what follows after that I’m struggling with, so it’s a good thing I’ve got such a talented conductor to help me.”
Eclipse’s delight transforms to a small grumble with an undertone of disapproval. His tail whacks the water behind him, and the giant mer gives you a disbelieving, reprimanding look.
Talented yourself.
Not expecting that, you smile sheepishly and chuckle a little.
“Thanks. I don’t mean to make it sound like I’m downplaying my abilities. Although your song isn’t exactly made for human lungs, you know.”
Dark pupils roll.
Siren song, comes the dry rebuttal. Natural. Weak human lungs.
You blow a raspberry.
“I’ll have you know I’ve got rather strong lungs for a human! And I can hold air for a long while too, which is why I’m even able to keep up with those drawn-out notes of yours.”
By this point, Eclipse has finished swallowing the fish he caught, and the bumpy texture of his burgundy tongue flicks dangerously across his teeth. The air charges with his intrigued hum, and you can sense your mistake the second you catch the mischief in his stare. Orange and crimson fins flutter, and a colossal maw nears until it hovers inches in front of you.
You’re already taking a cautious step back when the thought flashes in your head, one that is not your own.
Let’s test it then, the susurrous taunt curls around your mind, snaking like a low voice against the shell of your ear, and the blur of an arm is too fast for you to dodge.
“Eclipse!” you shriek with a laugh as the leviathan gently but gleefully snatches you up from your boat and brings you back into the water.
Your meager granola bar is lost to the waves and fish, but it barely catches your notice as the smug mer yet again deposits you on his chest, sinking onto his back with almost-feline elegance. The frills surrounding his face fan out like a blood-orange sunflower as they float in the water. Eclipse’s lower arms begin to lightly pedal across the waves, circling but not straying you and him too far from your boat. With his other hands, he keeps them cupped around you, preventing you from slipping off or getting away.
You know what he wants, can read his intent in the quiver of anticipation rebounding from your core that sings with the desire to dive. But the large mer is waiting for your approval first, not wanting to take you under without checking in regardless of his former tease. The considerate patience chases away the tepid air and flushes your heart with something even hotter.
Your smile is small and appreciative.
“Of course, I don’t mind taking a swim with you. I’ve gotta prove my little human lungs can outlast yours, right?” You pat against his chest. “Show me what you’ve got, big guy.”
Sharp teeth glisten wetly, Eclipse giving a hearty chortle at your challenge. His translucent fins catch the sunlight just as it skips across the indigo waves and reaches you, creating speckles of white gold atop every crest. Eclipse waits for you to take a few deep breaths in preparation, your lungs filling with air until you give him a nod. With a sweet smile, the mer begins to tip backward, sinking headfirst underwater with his hand cupping you all the while as you take the plunge together.
The water is bitterly cold the moment it touches your skin, and you instinctively squeeze your eyes shut at first as the ocean swallows you whole. But you’ve nothing to worry about in the grasp of your friend who keeps you clutched to a warm chest, the beating of his heart strong under your form even with layers of muscle between you and it. The steady thrum is like a lullaby setting your mind at ease, and soon, the flash of nervousness at diving dissipates like it was never there to begin with. 
A soft whisper of your name, wrapped in endless patience, coaxes you with a singular want. You feel a second arm slipping behind you, the first slipping lower, which is followed by a large palm spreading at your back and prickling at the strands of your floating hair, covering your entire frame with its size. In careful slowness, you dare to peek through just a crack despite the salty sting of the ocean. You want to see, just for a moment, and the second you do, you are so delighted you took the risk.
The brightness of the sun does not yet penetrate the surface of the deep, but it casts enough light to turn the ocean into an underwater paradise basked in violet hues.
Upside down, you and Eclipse float in the beautiful display of color that transitions from light to dark, the expanse above your head an incredibly rich sapphire. With every swish of his tail and flap of his frills, Eclipse creates a plume of bubbles that catch the thin light in this flipped world. Your legs curl tightly around his slick frame as much as possible, and a bountiful rumble erupts from your friend. He embraces you until there is no room left to spare, and your arms do their best to wrap around him as much as possible.
Golden eyes shine like pure light in the dim purple glow that is incrementally turning lavender while the sun climbs. Eclipse purrs greatly so that you can hear it even underwater. His heart pounds next to yours, a duet not unlike the song that the mer has sung for you since life was still so new to you and him. Age has not withered the exceptionality of it, but it has made you yearn for it all the more. You doubt you will ever stop longing to be close to Eclipse, and you can feel in your chest that he is much the same for you.
Suspended in place in the arms of your closest friend, you find breathing becomes meaningless. The separation that had kept you trapped on your small island and away from him is no more. Finally, you are together again, reunited under a fading starlit sky and within the pleasant rocking of a calm ocean. Home, at last. 
Once your lungs begin to ache, your eyes slip shut, and your smile grows when Eclipse presses his to yours. You happily nuzzle him right back, content to just hold each other like this in the morning quiet where nothing and no one disturbs you. The graze of his frills tickles your cheeks while he keeps you close. You stroke the ones you can reach at the sides of his head, and your movement is mirrored by the light carding of a claw through your hair and along the base of your scalp. The intimacy of it threatens to bring tears behind your eyelids, but any and all drops are carried away by the ocean when your eyelashes flutter with your cautious squint.
Eclipse rubs his scaly cheek against yours for a quick, last nuzzle. Though you’d prefer to remain suspended upside-down like this beneath the waves with him, your friend has your preservation on the front of his mind, and he sweeps his tail in a powerful stroke that rights you and him and brings you back to the suncatcher waves.
A prism of droplets sprays across the surface when you’re brought back up to blessed air that your lungs greedily take back in. After a hasty brush of your hand, you blink away the remnants of saltwater. Your lips twitch.
“I think I definitely outlasted you this time, big guy,” you playfully boast.
Scarlet fins flutter in amusement. Eclipse snorts.
If you say so, sea star.
You hum and tap a finger indecisively, rubbing one of his sharper points against your thumb.
“Well, I might be persuaded otherwise. I guess we won’t know unless we try again, will we?” Your smile flirts on the edge of a grin, but what Eclipse returns with next is enough to stun you.
If that is what you wish. Wherever you want to go, the ghost of an answer dances along your consciousness, I will follow.
His amber gaze is flooded with a softness that makes your heart quicken while you’re choked by nothing related to the air you breathe.
It’s funny, you think, how the universe works. To think that you would find your lifelong partner, someone who fits with you like a puzzle piece, out among the waves. Like you were made for each other, regardless of species or place or form. 
Here in the embrace of your soulmate, you’ve found everything you need. 
Eclipse warbles in surprise when you lean up and press a kiss to his forehead. There, you linger, shutting your gaze to the caress of his silky frills and the salty tang of his home filling your nose. The arms holding you wrap tighter, a third and fourth finding purchase around any part of you that isn’t covered like he can’t touch enough of you.
Your drenched hair runs rivulets down your cheeks, hiding the evidence of your pure happiness that wells inside you and sneaks past wet eyelashes. A faint sound stirs from the leviathan, dipping into a low tune that makes you bury your face in his precious rays and quietly sing along with him his siren call.
You don’t end up ever really responding to his avowal, but you think Eclipse understands you all too well. Locked together like this, you greet the morning as a reunited pair while the memories of a troubled past float away on the seafoam to break on a distant shore.
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tending-the-hearth · 1 year
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brain: you know you really should stop trying to come up with reasons for fives to still be alive, you're just grasping at straws at this point, you should let it go
me: you're right.
me: hey what if fives was only mostly dead after fox shot him and he was brought to mount tantiss to be the first clone that they experimented on and crosshair is put in the cell across from his and recognizes him from echo's stories and fives who got his "adopt every sad clone younger than me" gene from rex (so did echo) immediately goes into ori'vod mode and when the batch + rex + cody comes to mount tantiss echo is completely overwhelmed because his twin AND his vod'ika are okay and alive and safe, and on the flight back to pabu it's just echo holding fives and crosshair so tightly because his family is all together again and that's all that matters now
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cyberdragoninfinity · 2 years
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So thrilled and excited to finally be able to share my piece from the @ygocookbookzine !! I got to make a piece inspired by Mai’s favorite food, penne arrabiata, and this was some of the most fun I had drawing last year <3
Zine leftover sales are going on now! Check it out if you’re so inclined~
[don’t tag as ship please and thank you ❤]
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cuddles-with-dragons · 3 months
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I'M WATCHING THE BIG BANG THEORY AND THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT THE CLONE WARS OMG
uhh which one are they referring to tho
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paleontaxi · 1 year
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     @cflight  〢  cont from here .
There is indeed a right and a wrong answer, and he has shot people for answering incorrectly.  Usually, when people give a ‘basic’ response, like a T-rex, he shoots them because that’s not their favorite dinosaur; it’s just the only one they know.  It’s easy to tell when people are talking out their asses in a desperate attempt to get his gun out of their faces.
Fortunately for Ekira, he finds their answer satisfactory and clicks the safety back on his gun.  “That’s a good one,” he says, lowering his pistol, taking his finger off the trigger.  “Not a lot of people know its name.  All the long-necked ones get confused for the brontosaurus.”
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dragon-ascent · 11 days
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Imagine Rex Lapis wanting to increase morale during strategy meetings, so he tells his allies and adepti they are each permitted to bring one thing they like to these meetings.
Xianyun brings one of her favorite bubble-blowing contraptions. Ganyu coyly snacks on a whole bouquet of sweet flower petals. Marchosius polishes his favorite cooking pot as he listens. Guizhong cheekily plays her lute during bouts of silence. Xiao caresses a finch while he holds on to his god's every word.
It works; everyone's more relaxed and less on-edge when convening like this.
So anyway, that's how you end up on the Geo Lord's lap while he talks about infrastructure improvements and defensive training.
bonus:
"I don't want to!" you whine indignantly, racing down the streets of Guili Assembly.
"But I must hold you whilst I outline our allyship with the Sumeru gods," protests Rex, chasing after you.
"Your meetings are boring and have nothing to do with me!"
"But I have told everyone they can bring something they like - I cannot be the only one without."
"Go take a fluffy, furry cat or something!"
"But my dear, you are softer and your hair lovelier."
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zhongrin · 1 year
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a new age-restricted chatroom just opened! ⚠ (minors dni) ⚠
↬ (click to view) missing you ↠
𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
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◇ characters ◇ zhongli, childe, al haitham
◇ tags ◇ minors dni, modern!au, afab!reader, fem!reader, sexting (childe, zhongli), phone sex (zhongli, al haitham), established relationship, lots of dirty talking, abs & dick pics (digitally drawn/manga panel style), petnames (baby, babe, sweetheart, dear, darling, princess, love), praise (good girl), light degradation (slut, pervert), begging, brat taming (zhongli, al haitham), orgasm denial (zhongli), mentions of sex tape (zhongli), dom/sub relationship (zhongli), mentions of blowjob (childe), implied breeding kink (childe), sex toy (al haitham), no actual pics from 'your' side (pictures sent as ‘blank’ pic) from because everyone’s bodies are different &lt;3
◇ a/n ◇ yet another chatroom, and this time, a spicy one with a 'call' feature, as promised from wayyyy back last year lol i am praying and hoping and begging to rex lapis that this wasn't cringe or awkward but if it is then i will pretend not to hear and i will not perceive hskdjskdh also, al haitham’s part was inspired by this long-distance couple's sex toy.
◇ notes ◇ recommended to view via pc/laptop screen ◇ you will be prompted to give your name, but if you don’t feel comfortable you can skip them entirely - if you do give your name, the data will only be stored locally on your devices
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some little tidbits / notes:
yes, the wallpaper changes based on your local time.
(optional) send me screenshots of your favorite interactions or line lol
if you have yet to see ‘This chat has ended’ then- well, the chat has yet to end! be patient, it might take him some time to reply~ ;)
if the ui glitches, try turning the screen upright, back down, and then wait for a little (thanks @/prinrestcess for the tip!)
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© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
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◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea
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clockwayswrites · 7 months
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City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 3
WC: 1861 Masterpost CW: mentions of blood, past experimentation, and torture
Duke tugged the sleeves of the hoodie he had thrown on as he rolled out of bed down over his hands. The Cave was freezing. Usually the temperature was nice. Dressing up in layers of body armor and fighting crime made a person hot and the cool air of the Cave was a relief. When pulled out of bed by an all-hands meeting it was another story and so Duke tucked himself further in the hoodie.
He was pretty sure it wasn’t even his hoodie. This family (and those let into the inner circle) were almost all clothing thieves. Duke had even caught Wally West with his missing Gotham Academy hoodie once. The weird lack of boundaries had taken some getting used to. Seeing various family members naked for decontamination showers or medical procedures helped hurry that along. It was hard to care about who’s hoddie it was was after washing off cuddle pollen together.
The roar of a bike filled the Cave and Duke didn’t even look up. He knew the sound of Red Hood’s bike.
Man, he really had been in this family too long now, he thought and buried his face in his arms. Would they notice if he just went back to sleep?
“Perhaps some tea, Master Duke?”
Guess so.
“Thanks, Alfred,” Duke said and dragged himself properly upright to accept the mug of tea. At least it was warm.
Duke sipped at the tea, his favorite blend of course, as Jason sped into the Cave like the badass bastard he was. He spun his bike to a stop in one of the open spots.
“Hood,” Bruce addressed the other, the Batman™ gravel seeped into his voice even though he was dressed down in sweats, a hoodie Duke was pretty sure was actually Jason’s, and a brace on his wrist.
They all knew what Bruce meant though: report why an all-hands was called, why Tim wasn’t there, did those of them not suited up need to, was anyone they cared about hurt?
“No, old man, you report,” Jason said as he stalked up the steps towards them. “Who the fuck were you fucking fifteen years ago?”
Duke pinched himself to make sure he was actually awake and not still in bed having the most awkward dream. Alright, well, that hurt. So much for being saved from this conversation by the T-rex suddenly coming to life and breathing fire and them having to take it down with squirt guns and pool noodles.
He’d had some weird dreams since coming to live in the manor, alright?
“Um, ask what now, little wing?” Dick asked, looking between Jason and Bruce.
“I asked what I asked,” Jason said. He’d made it to the computer and they all turned obediently to look at the screen. Jason tugged off his helmet and set it down as he leaned against the console. “Who the fuck were you sleeping with at that time, Bruce?”
Bruce stared at Jason for a long moment. “Selina, mostly. Some socialites and such maybe still. What’s going on, Jason?”
“Oracle,” Jason said, not taking his eyes Bruce. “Red should have sent you some media. You’ll get why. Throw something fitting up on the screen.”
Despite what the superhero community and Gotham thought, everyone in the Cave knew that Batman was far from unflappable. They had all pulled one over on him before. But Duke had never seen Bruce looking like that before. As that image went up on the screen, it looked like someone had just shattered his brittle heart into pieces.
Duke couldn’t blame him. The sickly looking guy on the screen made Duke want to go find someone to punch and it wasn’t his face the other was wearing.
“Holy shit,” Steph whispered.
“Father, what is the meaning of this?” Damian ordered.
“Jay?” Dick prompted when Bruce seemed unable to find the words.
Jason scowled down at the ground. “Red and I were on patrol. He noticed… blood.”
Babs brought another image up on the left monitor without prompting. It was a Gotham alley like any other except it was splattered with a green spray.
“That is Lazarus water, that is not blood,” Damian said. His words were as haughty as ever, but there was a wobble under them.
“It’s blood for him,” Jason said. “Trust me. I held the kid as Red stitched him up. Knife wound. It was the only… new wound. Oracle, did Red send you…”
A new image popped up on the left screen and Jason closed his eyes. Duke had to swallow heavily and look away himself. He got now why Jason came in demanding who Bruce had slept with. Bruce’s heart was going to break all over again.
“Who?” Cass signed. Her motion was sharp and aggressive as she pulled her thumb from her chin after the sign.
“We don’t know,” Jason said. “He was jumpy.”
The picture of the horrible injuries was replaced by a video, clearly from Red’s suit. The guy was pressed against the wall, one hand gripped tight over the wet, green stain on his hoodie. He looked dwarfed in it.
“Hey, looks like you could use some help with that wound before you bleed out,” Tim said in the video. Duke could hear how he was keeping his tone carefully light.
“…just who are you supposed to be?” The guy’s voice could barely be heard.
“You must not be from Gotham. I’m Red Robin, one of the heroes here.”
The guy snorted, curling further into himself rather than relaxing at that. “So you’re just going to hand me over to the government then?”
Everyone in the cave stiffened at that, including Jason, which was interesting.
“Why would I do that? I’m a vigilante. Do you know how illegal what I do is? I just don’t want to see you bleed out. Maybe I can even take you to a safe house where you can rest.”
“So that you can interrogate me? No thanks.”
“I mean, I’d like to know who tried to kill a kid, but that’s to make them pay, not you.”
As the guy gave a horrible laugh, Duke reached out and touched Cass’ elbow, reminding her they were all there. These sort of things always hit her hard. She sent him a grateful smile before focusing back on the screen. “Maybe I deserve it.”
The guy tensed suddenly, weight shifting like he was about to bolt as the video slumped slightly sideways.
Jason’s voice rumbled from close to the camera. “You’re what, sixteen?”
“…fifteen?”
“Uncertain,” Cass spoke. Duke had to agree, the guy didn’t know how old he was, not for sure.
“Yeah, no fifteen year old deserves to bleed out. You know who I am?”
Duke tracked the motion of the hood as it slipped. The white hair was curious, considering Bruce, but if the guy was a meta or had been in the Lazarus Pits long enough… or worse, both…
“I’m Red Hood. I protect part of this city called Crime Alley. I’m not afraid to kill a shithead, especially ones that hurt kids, but I never harm a kid,” the Jason of the video said, something they all knew was true. It was an argument still often enough on bad days. “I’ve got places to put you if you needed somewhere safe; places not in the system. Or we can get you somewhere. Do you have a place to go to?”
The guy laughed again. “That’s the thing. I do. I might, I guess. Just no one is going to believe me.”
It was Tim who asked, “Why won’t they believe you? Where do you need to get?”
After the photo earlier, they all knew what the guy would look like when he lifted his head, but it still made Duke glance over at Bruce.
“I need to get to Bruce Wayne.”
-
Jason motioned and the video stopped there and went away.
Bruce closed his eyes.
I need to get to Bruce Wayne.
Another son he didn’t know about. Another son he failed to save from a horrible childhood because he didn’t know they existed.
“He didn’t want to see you right away, but we think that Tim and I convinced him that we could arrange a meeting between you and him,” Jason said.
“Of course,” Bruce answered instantly.
Jason just gave a little nod and explained, “He doesn’t trust the offer, or us, completely. It was enough to get him to the safe house. Passed out on the way.”
“And still asleep,” Tim piped up from the computer. “I’ve been running analysis on the… collar he’s wearing. It’s definitely a one off, but very professionally made. There’s, well, there was a tracker in it that’s been crushed. It’s meant to deliver a shock if someone messes with it, but I can disable that long enough to remove it.”
“You should wait until one of is is there,” Duke spoke up. “Just… in case there’s a reaction when it’s removed.”
Duke ducked his head when all eyes turned to him, still bashful as the newest member of the family. Bruce had been trying to reassure the other, but he knew that was far from his own strength. Clearly he needed to try a different approach.
“Just, you know, he’s clearly a meta? Of some type? It’s probably a containment collar and it could release a, you know, backlog? Of power?”
“Good thinking,” Bruce assured Duke.
“Someone better get here quick then. I hate seeing this thing on him,” Tim grumbled. At least he agreed.
Bruce looked back at the photo still on the center screen to the pale, drawn face. Even in sleep his son’s face was etched with pain.
“Bruce?” Dick prompted.
Bruce took a breath and made himself focus, to be Batman, not a grieving father. How often had he had to make that choice? “Dick, you and Jason both should go. Tim, as soon as the collar is off I want you and Oracle working on it but stay mindful of traps.”
“Will do,” Tim replied.
“And what of the rest of us?” Damian asked.
His youngest had come so far, but Bruce knew this would be a big disruption for him. They would have to watch him. He caught Cass’ eyes and she gave the slightest nod.
“I want Robin, Batgirl, and Spoiler out on the streets. Don’t ask questions yet, we don’t want to lead anyone to him, but get a sense of the mood around the big players. If this is already on anyone’s radar, I want to know.”
“And you need to make a list,” Jason said. “Kid talked in his sleep, begged his mom to stop. Could just be nightmares…”
“I’ll make one,” Bruce said. His bedroom proclivities were hardly what the papers reported, but with how this new son wasn’t certain of his age, it could be pre-Dick, or even at the start of Dick joining the family. It certainly meant there would be more names then any of the years later on. Whoever it was though, Bruce would find them.
He had to try and do that much for his son.
--- AN: Not entirely sure about Bruce's part here, but he's always harder for me to write! I think goal is to get at least one POV with all of the kids, so I guess Dick's is next likely! I'm super fuzzy today (fatigue, day fuck it, seven? Eight? Of this headache), so I hope this is at least decent~
Stay delightful, darlings!
I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the masterpost to be notified!
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avocad1s · 1 month
Note
Requests are open and the latest sparked some ideas so…
Imagine the reader not having specific favorites, but more groups favorites, like a reader that’s a big fan of the Knights of Favonious or The Akademiya
Note: KoF, Adepti, Akademiya, Fatui, and the Abyss mentioned with some small snippets from characters in those groups. But all of them have a small overview of how they view your favoritism over them.
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The Knights Of Favonius are pretty humble unlike the other nations. Although they may be criticized by a certain tavern owner, even he won’t question your favor towards the Knights (openly). Having your favor feels like a blessing from the Anemo Archon, many of them even believe that handling the stormterror incident themselves made them win your favor.
Although he isn’t around currently, daddy I mean— Varka feels a sense of pride knowing he left the wellbeing in Mondstadt in good hands. He is looking forward to finally meeting you once he returns. Jean constantly overworks herself, but she’s knows that it’s worth it if she can keep your favor. Mondstadt might seem “inadequate” when compared to other nations when it comes to where you should stay but Jean will make sure you’re never uncomfortable.
When it comes to your comfort, Jean would turn to Diluc, he may not be apart of the Knights but he does own the Dawn Winery and everyone knows you’ll enjoy staying there. Outrider Amber will make it her responsibility to guide you to the heart of Mondstadt and back to Dawn Winery during your entire stay. She’ll teach you how to glide! Just be sure not to mention that to anyone else… some might be upset that she could’ve put you in danger.
Speaking of danger, Klee adores being able to play with you! She will take you fish blasting! Yes it can be a bit dangerous but it’s fun! However once someone realizes that Klee and Their Grace hasn’t been seen in a while, they begin to panic. Usually Albedo, Kaeya or Rosaria are the ones to find you first, then the fun is over. (Klee may or may not get solitary confinement 💀)
Kaeya is a smooth talker and very charismatic that it’s difficult to discern just how flustered he’ll get in your presence. He’ll use his good talking skills to get you to himself, usually inviting you out to Good Hunter or even for a drink (if you’re a drinker) but being in your presence and knowing that he is apart of the group you openly favor over anyone else in Teyvat makes him tremble. Although in front of you he’ll just give a simple smile and charm you with his flattery.
———
Oh the Adepti are so respectful towards you. I mean, they served directly under Rex Lapis for centuries. They do not allow mortals to disrespect Rex Lapis, I’d be surprised if they even let anyone have a thought that could be considered disrespectful towards you. They feel a sense of pride knowing that they are your favorite. However unlike the others, they aren’t too vocal about it.
Sharing tea with you is by far their favorite thing to do. Inviting you to Jueyun Karst to enjoy the finest of tea and meals while reminiscing about Liyue’s past is something they all always wanted. During the Archon war, while they all fought for Rex Lapis, everything was still in your name. So now that Teyvat is at peace, (for now) they just want to enjoy an eternity with you.
Xiao is usually the one who tries to stay away from you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be around, far from it, but in his mind he feels as if he’s only useful to you if you’re in danger. When you spend time with the adepti he is unsure if he should come. Would you even want him there? But the second he hears you call his name, he’ll appear no matter what. Prepared to face any danger you might be in… but there’s none. In fact it’s just you, Cloud Retainer, Moon Carver, Mountain Shaper, and Ganyu. Xiao would remove his mask and place down his polearm silently enjoying his time in your presence.
Xianyun who has just recently began visiting Liyue Harbor in her human form again is definitely most open when it comes to you. Spending all her mora to buy things she knows you’ll like (and getting scammed) and inviting you to join her and Shenhe for tea. If you’re not in the mood for tea? Why don’t the two of you dissect these new human inventions that managed to capture her interest. How exactly does this machine from Fontaine keep a kite floating?
———
The Akademiya values their wisdom over anything else, and now they have your favor? Well, they’re kinda smug about it, you know? Many of them already believed they were better than the other nations (cough, cough, the Grand Sage) and having you in their corner might just make them a bit more insufferable. Unless it’s after Nahida takes back the reign.
The Akademiya would prefer if you stayed in Sumeru. The second you’re ready to settle down, Kaveh will be the first to approach you, he would be honored to be the architect that builds your palace. Mora is no problem! (Because no one would dare charge mora for Their Grace) No matter, Kaveh is very good at what he does, do you have any preferences when it comes to the construction? Please tell him, he strives to make you happy and show off his skills to you.
The acting grand sage of the Akademiya, Alhaitham enjoys living a comfortable life and is not fond of being in the role of a leader. The second someone worthy comes around, he will resign as the acting grand sage and return to his previous position as the scribe who was never around during working hours. Despite his… unambitious tendencies (only doing what’s necessary), he’ll try when it comes to you. If there is something you desire or some type of knowledge you going through the Akademiya for, he’ll offer his help. Although he can be pretty nonchalant, he does enjoy being in your presence and if your favor towards the Akademiya began after he took on the role as acting grand sage, his ego may swell a bit.
———
As if the Fatui didn’t have enough power across Teyvat already and now you favor them. Her Majesty and the harbingers are extremely grateful of having your favor in their corner, but they are definitely going to exploit this. It’s so easy for them to obtain more and more power in the other nations with the simple use of your name.
However even thought the Fatui can all collectively agree that having your favorite benefits them all, they are still incredibly selfish with their own intentions. The second you enter the Zapolyarny Palace, the harbingers are quickly scheming on ways to get you to themselves.
Pantalone, by far the richest of all the harbingers, will always offer to take you shopping. You’re the Creator! You can have as much jewelry, clothing, and other accessories as you want. Just be sure to follow him before one of the others pull you away.
Arlecchino is fully aware just how… unsettling her true side might be to you. But worry not! If there is one person who can keep her sane, it’s you! Want to see a magic show? Or maybe even an opera? She’ll take you! Cracks of her true personality might show if the others try stealing you away though.
Capitano is truly a legend on the battlefield, no matter how the others feel about him. One thing none of them will never deny is his strength. He holds a sense of righteousness that some (one puppet in particular) criticize. But his righteousness shines through with you. If you show any interest in learning to fight, he would be honored to teach you. Or maybe you already have incredible abilities, you are the God of Gods, he would love to test his strength against yours. No matter who wins, he’s willing to go again and again… just don’t go to a certain ginger asking for a sparring match.
Pierro, the first to be betrayed by the Seven when they destroyed his home. Many would think he would hold some type of resentment towards you, but he doesn’t. He is the director of the harbingers and they listen to his orders (usually coming from the Tsaritsa) so when you visit Snezhnaya he is usually the one to assign one of the harbingers to look after you. However he’s not afraid to use his power so he can be the one to look after you. Much to the other’s dismay.
———
You favor… The Abyss? Sorry, I need to rub my eyes and read that again.
No one understands your favoritism towards the Abyss. “They hate humanity Your Grace… Perhaps you should stay away from them?” Is what you hear all the time. But no one can technically force you to stay away… not to mention no one really knows what the Abyss actually is.
Very few know of the leader of the Abyss, the Prince/Princess or rather the travelers sibling. They can’t see you as often as they’d like but on the rare occasions they can, they love speaking to you about their plan. Sometimes they’ll even ask you questions about the traveler, curious how their journey of meeting the Seven is going.
Although he is not apart of the Abyss, at least not anymore. Even Dainsleif wonders what about the Abyss is appealing to you. Even if you do not know it, he’ll be sure to keep an eye on you just in case anyone or anything tries to harm you.
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Note: While I was writing this and reading about some of the harbingers personalities on the fandom wiki, I might have accidentally gave myself a crush on Capitano 💀 I just know he is fine under that mask.
© avocad1s 2024
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drchucktingle · 1 year
Note
do you have any tingler suggestions for an asexual and aromantic buckaroo?
YES BUD all preferred pounds are valid including NO POUND AT ALL and this is very important, as i am sure my aromantic and asexual buds know.
as a buckaroo who spends a lot of time fighting against gatekeeping i will use this as opportunity to say yet again ALL ARE WELCOME IN THE TINGLEVERSE ESPECIALLY MY ACE AND ARO BUCKAROOS.
in fact, after chucks upcoming horror novel CAMP DAMASCUS i have another horror novel coming out next year from same publisher called BURY YOUR GAYS (i am being secret about plot of for now but trust me tumblr buds will like this one) but one of the MAIN LEADS of 'bury your gays' is an asexual aromantic bud and she is such a fun character REALLY enjoyed writing her and i am excited for everyone to meet her.
ALRIGHT as far as tinglers go i have written MANY pound free books that you can enjoy, some are about an ace or aro way and some are about consent or saying NO THANKS BUD but they all do not have sex in them. the favorite of most buckaroos is probably ABSOLUTELY NO THOUGHTS OF POUNDING DURING MY FUN DAY WITH THIS KIND T-REX BECAUSE I'M AROMANTIC AND ASEXUAL AND THAT'S A WONDERFULLY VALID WAY OF PROVING LOVE IS REAL
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if you are interested in whole collections there are paperbacks name of NOT POUNDED BY ANYTHING that you would probably enjoy. this series has three whole volumes just keep in mind not all characters in these bundle are ace and aro but MANY are. others just dont feel like a pound.
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examples of stories that are more about consent and importance of HOLDING BOUNDARIES would be something like JUST KIND OF IGNORING THIS SAD LONESOME T-REX WHO IS SCREAMING "DEBATE ME" FROM HIS FOLDING CHAIR which is about how sometimes best way to deal with goofball conservative 'commentators' is just ignore their scoundrel whining as they moan their lonesome ways in the dark. so there are no pounds in that one just ignores. it is available as audiobook and so is ace aro story above too.
anyway buckaroo hope that helps. if you want to see full list you can look on chuck website and trot down to section of tinglers that says NO SEX
thank you for proving love is real in your own way i am SO GLAD our timelines have crossed it is an honor and i appreciate it very much. had fun time revisiting these books today and look forward to writing more for my asexual and aromantic buds. LOVE IS REAL
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cc1010fox · 1 year
Conversation
The Commanders After Spending One Rotation In Fox's Position:
Gree: He just gives Fox a hug to make up for the last few years.
Cody: He manages to hold himself together until he can lock himself in a fresher...where he sobs loudly.
Ponds: He doesn't realize the office isn't completely soundproof, so everyone can hear his frustrated screaming throughout the day and right before he leaves.
Wolffe: He punches a wall until someone opens his (Fox's) office door.
Bly: He lasts three hours before he hurries away, saying something about needing to find Aayla.
Bacara: He walks out of it like it was another day on the frontline--but he's going to name every kill he gets in the future after the people he dealt with in Fox's position.
Bonus Captain:
Rex: "...I shot the chancellor."
Cody: "YOU WHAT!?"
Fox: "...You were always my favorite, Rex."
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throwaway-yandere · 5 months
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𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮 (Yandere!Neuvillette/Reader)
a/n: this was inspired by my favorite childhood TV show, House MD & Oedipus Rex. The plot was supposed to be something else but dingleaf happened one 4AM ago. Anyways, welcome to our first Throwaway-Thursday this End of Year Blues!!!
Unreliable Synopsis: Everyone held their breath when they heard ex-defense attorney (Y/n) say these words: "Your Honor, I would like to challenge Champion Duelist Clorinde to clear my charges."
CW: yandere themes, reader has so much spite I can fry an egg, hurt/NO COMFORT. Please prioritize your mental health if these CWs are triggering to you. (Note: The plot happens a month before the Fontaine AQ, so he doesn't know about what happened to Vautrin.)
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“Why the pale expression? Has the trial last week caused you tremendous pain?”
"Such pallor is caused by pity, not grief.” Neuvilette made his fragile excuse to reassure Furina, but the words did not reach her ears. The ringing of raindrops outside was louder, more convincing. Fontaine is vexed with storms near-daily. The sad verdant earth will soon sponge and dry the hydro dragon’s tears as always, but every man hopes they won’t drown first. 
At first, he was convinced what he harbored was pity. For the pessimists, Fontaine is a nation where virtuous pagans paraded themselves as rich and devoted ran amok. Absolute justice is a cartoonish ideal– lack of entertainment is the death sentence. 
Lady Furina was starting to believe he lives his life by a certain suspect’s final envoi: 
Count no man happy till he dies, free of pain at last.
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"Are you insane?!" Navia held your shoulders, eyes wide. 
This was the worst thing you could ever do to your best friend. 
"Maybe I am." You told her, chuckling slightly as your thumbs caressed the nerves behind her palms. Navia, as intimidating as her occupation was, never once gripped you this hard. 
You wish you could hug her fully.
But these prison bars are holding you back.
"Can you blame me, Nav?"
"Don't." She glared. "Don't do this."
Navia trembled.
"Please, don't follow Dad..."
The blonde woman was reduced to a young, hopeless girl. You saw a reflection of the small Navia who lost Callas, and that short glimpse was stretched into a whole tragic spectacle. 
"I'm begging you, (Y/n). Please… d-don't go away. Don't leave me too…"
This was the cruelest you've ever been to someone you love.
But also the kindest you've been to yourself.
"There's nothing else I can do, Nav."
"W-We can always do something! There must be a way!" She screamed gutturally. "We'll find a way to make that Chief Justice pay instead. If there's a will—"
"But there's none. There is no will in me left."
"Then hold on to mine, for Archon's sake! Depend on me!"
"What for? We both lack the means to grasp our Archon's hand." You shook your head, grinning without life. 
You wiped the tears off her cheeks. In a small fraction of time, you trembled, showing a bit of soul.
"Our Goddess has abandoned me. Everyone and everything but you had." You said. "Dear Navia, don't make this harder for yourself. Let me go."
"(Y/n)..."
Her grip relaxed.
Navia finally let go.
But that was not the scene's last word.
Clorinde sprinted towards your cell, seething in electric rage. Navia stepped back. Their relationship might be less than cordial, but Clorinde was also your friend.
And after all these years of friendship, she never would've guessed you would elicit such melancholic frustration within her.
She knows she'll come out of this duel victorious.
She knows if she doesn't say a word, she'll be the one to bury you six feet under.
Clorinde's fists clenched and her breathing grew harsh and difficult, unable to accept your inhumane gaze.
"Is this your solution, (Y/n)?"
From the tone of her voice, this would not be a pleasant conversation. One wrong word, and you'll see a side of the Champion Duelist not even her court opponents knew.
You nodded.
"Yes."
"State your reason."
"Because this is the only way I'll die with dignity."
"Die… with dignity?"
Something inside her cracked.
"Yes." You nodded again, becoming uncertain. "At least with this, there would be something Neuvillette cannot decide for me. And (Y/n) (L/n) chooses a dignified death."
“DEATH HAS NO DIGNITY!!!” 
You and Navia flinched at the sudden sound.
Clorinde screamed, feeling her eyes burn. Her veins became more prominent in her face and her skin reddish. The sheer force of her scream was enough to bring your full attention to her, yet to the duelist, her uncharacteristic outburst meant nothing.
“DEATH WILL ALWAYS BE UGLY!!! DEATH– DEATH IS NEVER BEAUTIFUL!!! IT IS ALWAYS SINISTER— LOATHSOME AND VILE.”
"Clor—"
She pulled you by your collar.
“There– there is only dignity in living.” She trembled, casting her gaze down. “You can live with dignity– but you can’t die with it.”
For a while, only her unsteady breathing could be heard.
Clorinde eventually calmed down, her heavy sighs and frantic pants slowing as the red hue of her face somewhat returned to its usual pale complexion. She couldn’t afford a second more to process her growing grief.
"Find another duelist."
As a successor to the Marechaussee Hunters, there's no one else you need but her.
"But I want you."
"(Y/n)."
"You've always been my idol, Clorinde." You told her solemnly. "I always thought you at least made my clients have a clean death under your blade."
Clorinde paused.
That, she cannot deny. 
She did spare mercy to the people you defended. But she doesn't understand how you fail to comprehend why she couldn't bear to bring herself to enact the same reprieve for you.
"Retrieve your gloves. I don't and I won't accept your challenge." Clorinde closed her eyes. "Live your days in the Fortress instead. Death is not the solution."
You laughed. As if you'd let yourself be under Wriothesley's guidance when you can smell from miles away that he's one of Neuvillette's lap dogs.
"Isn't this suffering enough?" You spoke with a casual lack of self-preservation. "I don't want to live under Neuvillette's scrutinizing eyes. Not anymore."
You looked up.
That empty smile was no longer on your face.
And that was somehow more frightening than it should be.
"So do your job as a champion and end it all, just like what you've done to Uncle Callas and the others."
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Your last conversation with the Duke was not as memorable as when he caught you spiking the Iudex’s cup, yet you’d give his personality credit where it is due. His was certainly a memorable one.
Wriothesley stood a few steps away from the bars while you purposefully cornered yourself. The distance was noticeable. It was clear that neither of you was close to each other. This was mere formality brought about by one of your should’ve-been victims.
“So, you sure don’t want to be roommates?” Wriothesley asked. "Or you know, see old friends and family down there?"
"I'd rather not disappoint them with my presence."
“So, you're a coward?" He asked, intending to provoke you.
"Maybe?" you answered, mimicking his tone. "Wouldn't know. Last time I checked, I was an honorable defense attorney. But suddenly, the Iudex had a change of heart."
"Neuvillette didn't have a change of heart. You are a terrorist."
You laughed sardonically, "suppose so."
You both weren't entirely wrong. Friends and foe alike know you've turned to rebellion after the justice system had failed you repeatedly. Neuvillette's lovestruck fixation was merely the final straw.
“You’re walking on a death sentence.”
“No shit,” you clicked your tongue and continued. “What else do you think this is for?”
“The Iudex was convinced that you’re acting out because you had a guilty conscience, and he’s very willing to drop those charges and forgive you.”
“Guilty conscience?! HA!!!” You laughed. “As if I felt guilty for what I’ve done. If anything, I’m rejoicing.”
Wriothesley smirked, but it faded quickly.
“I told him the same, but then he says if that were true, you’re probably just masking it to play the villain’s part.”
“Do you believe every word he says?”
“No,” Wriothesley did not hesitate to answer. “I know a criminal when I see one. And I also know when a criminal can get away with their mess.”
“The jury thinks otherwise– the oratrice cannot be wrong.” You snickered. “I’m as guilty as they come, hands filled with arsenic and all.”
"You can still get out of this. Sure, you'll get a stern talking-to— a lecture on the virtue of honor and respect. But in the end, he'd give you a second chance. He's still hoping that a mutual agreement will arise in the end."
You expressed your disinterest with a droopy-eyed “Blah, blah, blah…”
Wriothesley frowned.
“You’ll make him depressed.”
You raised an eyebrow. 
“And you think I care? Fontaine can flood next month. Just as long as I die tomorrow it’s none of my business.”
“Well, it’s your call,” Wriothesley said. “If you’re willing to throw your life away like that, then you probably wouldn’t survive a week underwater.”
He wrapped a hand around one of the bars.
“You know, (Y/n),” the Duke looked at you dead in the eye. “Marriage with the Iudex isn’t as bad as you’re making it out to be.”
You laughed.
“What makes you say that?” You smiled through gritted teeth. “Are you his second spouse?”
“I’m just saying,” he shrugged. “You could’ve just lived a bit more silently.”
You glared. 
“Are you saying I should live like a caged bird? That I should accept that our system here is rigged?”
“I’m saying you should’ve been more grateful with what you have.”
You scoffed.
“Wow.”
An awkward silence followed after. It wasn’t as if a quip was hard to form– but the historical context behind whom you were speaking to made weighing empathy over spite a challenge. You knew of his past, his name or lack thereof, and quiet allegiance to Neuvillette. Sigewinne had made sure you knew of it to glorify the adoptive “father” of the Melusines. Wriothesley owes him his survival.
But "Wriothesley" of all people should've known that those who know morbid truths cannot be silenced forever. 
And Neuvillette owes you a peaceful death. 
… The Duke sighed, noticing that his admiration for the Iudex did not align with his current morals.
“We’ll forever agree to disagree on this, won’t we?” He asked.
“Hopefully not forever, I don’t want to stay here for much longer.”
Wriothesley chuckled at your morbid joke. But before he could walk away with a less-than-heavy heart, you shifted from your corner.
“Hey, Wriothesley?”
He turned to look at you– your hand specifically.
It’s a letter.
“Mind handing these to the authorities?”
Wriothesley’s eyes widened.
“Is that–”
“It’s a written confession,” you chuckled. “Don’t ask me how I got a pen and paper. I know that damn bastard forbids anyone to lend me anything that’ll help me write a final will. Gotta say, at least his etiquette lessons had some use. At least my last words are in pretty cursive.”
He didn’t say another word. 
The Duke left the room, empty-handed.
No one wants to see the Iudex more heartbroken than he already is now.
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The interrogation room was small, but not to the point that there was a minimal budget for its construction. You sat on one end behind the glass divider after one of the guards took your letter. There were only plain walls and two lightbulbs on the ceiling. At the center of the room is a table with two chairs on either side, no pen or paper. 
Nothing but an empty table. 
But the quiet comfort was gone when the man of the hour closed the door behind him. As the ticking of the clock becomes more softer, the two individuals would be forced to sit for the duration of this “interrogation.”
It was none other than your husband, the Iudex, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, and the bane of your existence.
Monsieur Neuvillette.
His back was straight; his eyes, “stern” and focused. He clasped his hands together, fingers intertwined. His gaze searched for something— regret, remorse, anything that could make the upcoming nightmare disappear. 
Neuvillette's voice was “calm” and “collected.” 
But you didn’t buy it. Not with his messy hair, his forlorn look, his frown. You rarely saw him cry. You had a gut feeling he hides it by standing amidst heavy rain, but this time the redness of his eyes and puffiness of his cheeks says it all.
It’s a heavy downpour outside. 
He can’t be bothered to hide his tears from the public eye anymore.
"In your own words, please explain why you had attempted to poison me."
Your eyes lit up. He immediately wished he could take those words back. 
So, he’s still in denial. Neuvillette seriously didn’t think you wrote the letter. He probably didn’t think it was your handwriting. It was almost insulting.
“Oh, Monsieur! You are as generous as they say, finally letting your spouse speak for themselves!” You grinned sarcastically. “And they say chivalry is dead! DEAD!!!”
He cringed at your pointed enthusiasm.
You recount the day you attempted to murder him, describing how you had slipped the poison into his favorite cup. How you didn’t really care to hope it wouldn’t be noticed since what mattered more to you was his death over your own freedom. The more detailed you became, the more it suffocated him.
“But, as you can see, you’re alive and I am behind this glass window,” you tapped the divider. “Away from you, at last.”
He bit his lip.
“(Y/n)—”
“I hate you.”
He breathed in shakily.
“I know.”
“And yet you still fell for it.” Your voice suddenly softened. 
“Why?” You continued. “Why did you believe my act for the past month? I know you had your suspicions, so why? You knew I was just playing along to get your guard down– to act like some loving housewife so I can find the opportunity to smother you with a pillow– so… why?”
“Maybe…”
Neuvillette took a deep breath.
“Maybe it’s because dying by your hands would be a dignified way to go.”
Your eyes widened. The air turned to glue. Breathing became a challenge.
He looked up, meeting your gaze. Monsieur Neuvillette was serious. No shifting position can make you feel comfortable. 
Because Neuvillette in his most sincere form of speech is the most brutal.
“I just wished to be loved by y-you,” his voice cracked. “Even for a moment, even for a lie, I would die to know I was loved by you.”
His face crumpled, tears flowing freely. He reached a hand out against the glass window, his palm marking the divider. Neuvillette was breathing erratically, desperate to hold you. The pain in his chest was getting heavier, much like the rain outside. You almost couldn’t hear him from all the background noise, and you wished that was what happened. 
This was the man who took your clients' happiness. The man who took Uncle Callas away with his rationale. The reason for your unhappiness.
And yet, you couldn't think of any other person who would love you as much as he does. 
“Y-You know me for who I-I am,” he gasped out. “I am but a weak and beaten down man w-who couldn’t express himself like a human being. Y-You were there, you comforted me with not a smile, an umbrella, or thoughtless words of encouragement— you accepted me for who I was with a warm embrace.” 
You hated it. 
You hate how your heart ached for the man that made your life a living hell.
“I was the leader of the Revolution and I needed intel against you, nothing more.” You spat. This time, you were the least convincing one. “It was an act of kindness I shouldn’t have done.”
“Yet it has helped me more than you had accounted for.”
“And never before have I ever regretted playing savior.”
“I was merely attempting to reform your life,” Neuvillette breathlessly spoke. “I wished to set you on the right path. You were a gifted individual with great connections. Your peers had high expectations of you. For you to throw that away for nonsense activism— no— terrorism is heartbreaking. And I—”
Neuvillette gulped.
“I didn’t want to face you on the other side of the courtroom.”
You laughed.
“Some things are just fated to happen,” you said. “An old astrologist told me that. She told me I was bound to get myself in deep legal trouble. Growing up, I figured it might as well be a cause worth doing if it’ll lead me to that path eventually. Why else did I become a defense attorney in such a hellishly political land?”
He trembled, tears falling at a faster rate.
You almost wanted to reach out and wipe those tears away.
Almost.
“Must you treat your life as though it is disposable?” Neuvillette asked, choking slightly. “Why are you…”
You digressed. “You’re not going to retract those charges are you?”
“I did.”
You frowned.
“But Lady Furina would not allow it,” he shook, frustrated. “She found out about your past, your hatred for her so-called incompetences and published lese-majestes.”
“Good for her, good for her.”
Neuvillette’s hand slowly slid down.
“I can’t… I cannot watch this…”
You felt a surge of confidence, for Neuvillette was indeed devoid of hope. You've never seen him with his head hung low. What went through Neuvillette's mind remained uncertain. Perhaps, just a small piece of him knew you could never be his. Perhaps he knew that you were destined for a doomed fate.
But it doesn't matter. 
All that mattered was that you were free.
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That was a month ago.
The rain had been going on nonstop for thirty days, and the Hydro Archon had every right to worry. 
“I can’t sleep…” Neuvillette thought he spoke out loud, but it was just a whisper. He’s growing weak, his sleep deprivation catching up to him.
“Then come lay your head down,” she yawned slightly, fanning her breath. “Such heavy thoughts need a place to rest.”
“An irresistible offer,” Neuvillette mused humorlessly. “But I must decline.”
“Oh Neuvillette, when will you relax from this role you carry?” The archon spoke rhetorically.
Neuvillette chuckled sadly.
The heavy downpour wouldn’t stop. 
Perhaps…
Perhaps when the day comes and he is stripped of dignity.
Maybe then, he’ll have his rest.
Neuvillette had already forgotten why he was crying that fateful day. But in those memories, he recalls he was callow and unformed. Was it due to an unfavorable trial? The problem evades him. His recollection remains only in how the people reacted around him. Many asked if he was okay and he'd reply with a simple "I'm fine". And he was, until he could no longer convince himself with that lie. He was certain he was about to dip his toes in another cycle of nihilism.
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And then you came.
“Monsieur Neuvillette?”
The rain was pouring out in the cemetery. You were there; your presence questionable. He knew that you arrived intending to probe whether or not he was a sovereign dragon, but he gave you the nod of acknowledgment.
“Greetings, Mx. (Y/n),” he answered, “I trust you’ve been well? Is there a person whom you’re visiting?”
He asked in sheer politeness despite knowing your motivations.
“...”
You frowned.
“How long?”
“Pardon?”
“How long have you been carrying that loneliness, Monsieur?” You asked, voice louder. “How long?”
His lip quivered.
“Centuries, perhaps,” the Iudex thought he could pass it off as a light joke to catch you off-guard, but it came off as too sincere. “I do not keep track.”
You cautiously and awkwardly approached Neuvillette, and without a word, wrapped your arms around him in a comforting embrace.
Just like what Uncle Callas had done for you before.
Your existence here was anathema and your words were seditious. His initial reaction was to resist because he knew you were just like Vautrin. He knew you were secretly seeking vengeance because the oratrice unfavorably judged numerous friends and family.
But he needed it. He needed this badly.
It was then that the Iudex decided that he needed you. That he will keep you.
Neuvillette cannot handle another Vautrin— he can't handle another Carole. So, he'll do it right this time. He'll keep you safe, from your illegal associations and even from yourself. 
And it was a selfish yet necessary need.
A lump formed in his throat as a tear fell, trickling down his cheek slowly. He allowed himself to melt in your hug, trembling. 
“You’re going to need all the hugs you can get if you’re planning to stay as Iudex for centuries more,” you whispered. “You’re resilient, but in this world, that solitary resilience won’t be enough, won’t it?”
Unable to maintain his stoic facade any longer, Neuvillette gripped you tighter in that embrace, his vulnerability finally resurfacing physically rather than Fontaine's rains. Surprised by his sudden tirade of sobs, you embraced him with all the warmth you could muster. At that moment, you had an epiphany. Despite the enmity of their positions, they were the same. Both of you were victims of a nation that demanded more in your assigned roles than you could bear.
“If you'd let me, I'll be the person you’d come to if you ever need a hug.” You weren’t sure if you said it as a devious plan or an act of empathy. “I wouldn’t mind. Not at all.”
You've made yourself important to him now. 
Neuvillette cannot lose you too.
As he clung to the solace you inadvertently provided, you can't help but wish you never extended that small comfort months later. Every inch given could be exploited, and when you offered him a shred of empathy, he had seized it and turned it into a mile-long advantage. The vulnerability shared in that hug was the dangerous crack in the sword you've worked so hard to maintain.
And so, when the time came you faced Champion Duelist Clorinde with it, the gaps broke the sword completely and with its death came soon the end of your life.
She was right. There is no dignity in dying with a broken hilt.
But there was peace.
And as much as you hated Neuvillette, you wish he’d have it too.
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"I've made it this far, and all I've ever done was in accordance with what fate and others wanted of me. In my demise, let me do something for myself." “After all, I’ve learned from watching Uncle Callas when he fought Champion Duelist Clorinde— an encounter I’ll surely experience in the next few days— that there is beauty in the end. In his last moments, my much younger self saw what expression he wore.” “He was content. The most content I had ever seen in someone's face.” “It was then that I had an epiphany. One that I hope my “husband” Neuvillette will remember, and I care not if it will bring him comfort or pain.” “What I learned was simple:” “Count no man happy till he dies, free of pain at last.”
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Taglist (lmk if you want to be added on the other three fics!): @ayadikreino @kireeen, @pebblemacaroon, @thelostpanta, @vennnnn-diagram, @sagekun, @vadelma-yatta, @detectivei @sugarplumcutiepie @sunhareskies @dxprived4-starboys @unloadingdata @harmonysanreads (amen.) @atomicsoulhumanspy @sangoqueenkoko @pix-stuff @dilucragnidvr 
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DP X DC AU Danny & The Little Dead Girl
(title pending lol, Danny and Curare adventures pt 2!) Pt 1 here My AU art
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Monday comes, as it is won't to do, and Danny has to go to school which means the baby halfa has to come to school too.
" ok, so, one rule for today, big rule, you gotta be quiet in class. Uh-"
Danny pulls his phone out of his pocket as their bus hits a pot hole. Sitting right at the front means they catch the momentum first and he has to hold Curaré against his side lest she go flying into the aisle.
A couple voices grumble behind them at the jostling as Danny gets his text to speech open.
" Necessitas ser quieto en clase. ¿Entiendes?" The Google robot lady voice translates for him.
Curaré blinks at him from behind her little paper face mask and looks from the phone to him curiously.
This is the game they've been playing since last night, Danny says something in English robo lady repeats it in Spanish.
Danny doesn't know if Curaré understands how the phone speaks or even that it does but she's giving him her favorite little blank expression so he assumes she gets it. At least, she hasn't really disagreed or disobeyed anything he's asked of her yet so...not gonna look that gift horse in the mouth Danny boy!
..
School goes well, mostly.
They get through the metal detectors and bag checks at the front entrance just fine. The security guards barely glance at Curaré once they confirm she isn't hiding a Glock or something under her shirt. Which it's kinda sad to know gun control is a cross-dimensional American problem but it's on brand if nothing else Danny thinks.
They get to first period without stopping at Danny's locker and settle down in two desks by the back door. This is Danny's usual spot, well usual as of a month ago, it's mostly empty back here now but Danny used to have a seat partner.
(A seat partner who had a kind of shady tweaker vibe that Danny would have been worried about but that kid went home early one day and never came back so....it's Curaré's seat now.)
The little dead girl looks even littler sat in the desk-chair combo, she can barely see over the top. Danny stacks three dictionaries under her for a boost then he gets her set up with some pencils and paper and the single highlighter he found on the floor his first day here.
Curaré seems vaguely interested in his offerings ,after Danny shows her how to use them to mark the page, and starts creating cautious marks of her own.
She keeps glancing back up at Danny as if to confirm that this is still fine? And he nods his head every time trying to be encouraging as it becomes obvious that nobody taught this kid to write inside Fosters Home for Real life Assassins. Which Danny thinks is poor planning on there part because really? If your Assassin can't write how the fuck were they supposed to leave ominous threatening warnings? Or fake suicide notes? Or any number of written props to flesh out a cover story.
Whatever, obviously the assassins raising Curaré sucked ass all around so he can't say he's surprised but he is majorly disappointed.
As the bell rings for first period a whole slew of teens rush in ahead of the teacher Mr. Berk. Simple guy, grey beard, coke bottle glasses, smells like Vics vapor rub, the works.
He's like the most chilled out version of Mr. Lancer ever so he's alright in Danny's books. Plus he only has one "rule", as long as your butt is in your seat by the time he calls your name for attendance he won't mark you late. In Gotham, where everyone and their brother has enough late marks from shitty public transportion to get detention, it's a pretty sweet rule.
So Mr. Berk takes attendance like usual and only pauses on Danny and Curaré in the back for a brief moment.
Curaré stops drawing and stares down Mr. Berk like he's the T rex from Jurassic park. Frozen in place and without breaking eye contact. He stares back at her completely unphased.
" A small visitor then?" He says.
Danny nods. " My sister"
" Mhm" Mr. Berk says already moving on to the next student on his roster.
Danny breathes out huge sigh of relief, that was so much easier then he expected.
They more or less repeat this exchange the whole day. Mondays suck ass because it's one of the only days Danny actually has all 6 periods, but they make it through 1st, 2nd, and nutrition unscathed.
By lunch time Danny thinks they might actually be home free, if no one is gonna bring up the whole freaking child tagging along with him then he can probably just bring her with him everyday.
Maybe he can find her some work books and she can learn the alphabet? And addition? That's like on track for 4 year olds right? Danny can't remember being 4 but that feels right to him. He will educate the child in his care like the responsible almost adult he is. She will go to college!
At lunch Danny sits them at the back of the school right next to the teachers lounge because it's mostly deserted.
In Danny's exprience the best place to hide is in plain sight. He's been sitting here everyday since he enrolled himself and the teachers have never noticed him. Their way too busy trying to get any kind of break from teaching high schoolers to be concerned.Which Danny is greatful for because he has broken the rule about using his cell phone at lunch 50 times at this point.
Listen he has to do universe research when he has access to wifi! Which he only does at school. The administration should be glad he's using his lunch period to educate himself really.
So they eat by the lounge. Danny has Curaré face away from the door so she can take off her face mask and eat unencumbered.The cut on her face is still gnarly, it looks an almost enflamed purple as it tries it's best to heal.
Danny had given Curaré a little immuno-boost with his own ecto the night before to try to speed up her healing factor. But like any Halfa, basically just Danny's personal experience, you have to nourish the ghost half and the human half in equal parts to heal all the way.
It's not until home room, period 6/7, that the metaphorical straw breaks the metaphorical camels back. or the real straw to the metaphorical camel? Did camels even carry straw? where would it go? Between there humps? Not important Fenton!
Home room was a grade A disaster.
Mr. Perez, Danny's kind of ancient home room teacher, who was for almost all intents and purposes blind, had a freaking nose for trouble. It's like he could sniff out vapes and cell phones as soon as they hit the stale class air. Danny thought this would be the easiest class by far, Mr. Perez wouldn't even see Curaré let alone smell her.
And at first it seems like he doesnt, Mr. Perez takes attendance and skips right over Danny and Curaré with no fanfare.
Danny thinks that's the end of it and starts to breathe easy until 15 minutes before the final bell when Mr. Perez' TA asks him to step into the hallway with her for a second.
Danny generally liked Mr. Perez's TA, her name was Sabrina Kahn and she was the kind of girl Jazz would have hung out with.Straight laced, wore argyle cardigans, read books, the smart sort. She looked Jazz's age too, maybe 21ish and she always rolled her eyes when people gave dumb answers in class.
She looks a little embarrassed to be speaking to Danny which immediately sets him on edge.
" It's okay that you brought your little sister today but, I'm sorry, you won't be able to do that again. A bunch of your teachers made complaints with the front office and Mr. Perez got a call about it ..."
Sabrina had always been nice to him and now she was about to ruin his whole week.
" But Ms. Kahn-" Danny started.
She gave him a sympathetic look " Lemme guess, your parents can't take her to work so this was the next best option?"
Danny closed his mouth and nodded, that was actually a much better lie then he was gonna tell, thank you Ms. Kahn. ( But also Boooooo curse you Ms. Kahn!)
" Here, I know it can be hard to find childcare for metas, especially ones as ah-vibrant as your sister. My brother had the same trouble with my nephew."
Sabrina hands Danny a flyer, it's still warm from the printer, it looks like it's just a screenshot of an email.
"Thanks?"
The TA rolls her eyes, wow a lot like Jazz then.
" It's the address to that daycare and a referral. They only take kids by word of mouth, they're kind of... off the books. But their good people! I hope they can help you Danny."
The paper is on off yellow, as Ms.Kahn heads back into homeroom Danny feels all his hope go with her. Shit, what was he gonna do now? He looks through the little glass window in the door to the back where Curaré sits, she's already watching him. He tries to smile at her, be reassuring, he's not sure it works.
......
When the bell finally rings Danny picks Curaré up and puts her on his hip to avoid her being crushed by the rush of high schoolers who stampede out the door in front of them.
The flyer from Ms. Kahn feels like it's burning a hole through his pocket as they ride the bus towards the Narrows.
Danny cased the house from the flyer with maps street view as well as he could. It showed a skinny sublet house across from a small strip mall and laundrymat.
Inconspicuous sure, maybe even innocent looking but well...you could never tell in Gotham, all the buildings looked sort of evil by default. It was probably because of the gargoyles and the general low level stink fog that seemed to always be out.
The big city™ really made Danny miss the suburbs of Amity Park more then just the regular gut wrenching home sickness. Oh what'd he'd give to take a deep breath of air and not inhale the smell of piss when he walked down the street.
They get off the bus at the corner a block from the daycare.
Danny holds Curaré's hand which makes for slow going but seems like the right thing to do. She's never wandered off but Danny didn't want to give her the opportunity to either.
As he helped her climb the three short stairs up to the house Danny was suddenly hit with a wave of panic.
What the fuck am I doing? Am I really gonna take care of this freaking Halfa ghost baby for the next 18 years? Im not even an adult! I work weekends at BatBurger for minimum wage WTF?
Danny's hands began to sweat and his stomach cramped. Oh fuck, here was the existential crisis he'd been waiting for since he first decided to take Curaré from the leagues super secret baby basement.
Oh shit he couldn't breathe, what was he gonna do! OH fuck think!
What would jazz do? Call child services and offer psychological support. Not Uber helpful in this case Danny didn't know the first thing about psychology and Gotham CPS was actual prison.
What would Sam do? Assassin babies are hella counter culture but maybe find a cool rich eccentric family to adopt them? Nope, not gonna work Danny only knew one eccentric rich girl and she was a whole dimension away. FUCK THINK FENTON!
What would Tucker do? In this situation ask Google, homeschooling is big these days so maybe if you leave her in the apartment while your gone with an iPad-
" Hey you alright there dude, can I help you?"
Danny choked on the end of his anxiety panic badbadbad spiral and looked up.
The front door to the house was open and just inside the threshold stood a younger teen, maybe 16? With the kind of fade haircut Tucker always whined he couldn't pull off and a bright yellow hoodie.
Danny held his breathe for a moment making sure he felt it burn up his lungs and throat before letting out a big sigh.
" Yeah, yeah sorry kinda zoned out there I'm just uh kinda nervous I was told to come here for Daycare help for my little sister?"
Curaré looked at the stranger in the doorway with the same wide eyed blankness she stared at everything with. Funnily enough she was still holding Danny's hand, had held on through Danny's entire mental meltdown too despite the ecto sweat. Danny felt oddly touched by the gesture, even if it was more likely that the little girl wasn't bothered by his crisis then her being sympathetic.
The teen in the Yellow Hoodie raised an eyebrow at Danny as he fumbled the paper from Ms. Kahn out of his pocket to hand over.
Yellow Hoodie took it and looked between it, him, and Curaré.
" You're not a cop right? You have to tell us if you're a cop"
Danny made a face, " no, I'm not a cop! I would never be a cop, cops suck."
" Right." Yellow Hoodie said still suspicious " So you wouldn't mind if I called your referral up?"
" Be my guest dude."
The teen pulled out his phone and made sure to keep steady eye contact with Danny. Who could do nothing except not look away during this, the world's most impromptu staring contest, until Yellow Hoodie put his phone away.
" Just wanted to see if you were bluffing. Sabrina called earlier said she'd sent someone our way but you can never be too careful. Come on in. "
Danny felt the wind go out of his sails for the second time that day, what was with people and making him anticipate the worst.
.....
The inside of the house was old, homey, but old. It had very obviously been well lived in by a few generations of children, easy to see from the scuffed floors, chipped crown molding, and the sheer number of framed photos that hung on the walls.
There were signs of new life about too, some toys scattered on the floor, walls that were covered in butcher paper and crayon as high as little hands could reach, and oddly enough some scorch marks. Although, Danny's supposed that an unlicensed daycare for meta kids worth it's salt ought to have a least a few burn marks. For posterity if nothing else.
" I'm Duke, I volunteer here when I can but the place is run by the Mariscos, Mrs. Marisco specifically. She's been in the game for a long time" Duke nee yellow hoodie said as he stopped them in front of a closed door.
The hand made sign on the door said Office in nice scribbly lettering and it was hung on with a peg and twine. Real kitschy.
Danny could just make out the sounds of kids playing in another part of the house and was a little impressed that Duke had managed to keep Danny from seeing even one tiny tot during the impromptu house tour.
" I gotta go help Izzy with the kids, this is Mrs.Mariscos' office just knock before you go in, she might be on the phone."
Duke nodded to Danny, smiled down at Curaré and disappeared down the hallway.
Leaving Danny and Curaré alone in front of a closed door once again.
Danny looked down at Curaré and she looked up at him, she was characteristically silent.
" This feels like a job interview, did you bring your resume? "
Curaré blinked.
" Yeah, me neither. But I think if we both give her puppy eyes maybe our combined under aged-ness will activate her maternal instincts and she'll be forced to accept us?"
The nerves were back, they had never really left but now they had settled like a rock at the pit of Danny's stomach.
He couldn't bring himself to knock on that office door just yet so he fussed over Curaré instead. Kneeling down he straightened the collar of Curaré's hooded jacket and moveed her little backpack strap back up her shoulder where it had slipped.
" We got this. It's you and me now remember, even if this blows and you have to come to school with me for the rest of year it's you and me." Danny rested his hands on little shoulders and hung his head. " Jeez, I sound like my mom"
"No need to be so nervous Mijo! My Chiqis never met a kid she could turn away."
Danny's neck had never snapped up so fast in his life.
Curaré hadn't been looking up at him at all. No, Curaré was staring up towards the elderly woman floating near the ceiling.
Which was not great, because Danny for all the time had spent in Gotham had never seen another ghost. Not a single one.
Which was unsettling on its own but not bad per se, he'd thought maybe this dimension was just different, not enough spectral energy to manifest a ghostly body.
But no, again nope, this was so much worse.
No ghosts was easy enough to reationalize but one ghost? One ghost meant there was enough spectral energy, one ghost meant something was really really wrong with Gotham.
Because if there was only one ghost in a crime ridden pissed off city like this where the shit were all the others?
--------------------------------------------------
Yo! Just wanted to say thank u for all the support on part 1, did not expect people to like or care about it lol. Anyway back on bullshit, I've had this written for a while but didn't have the insp to post it until now.
Might write more, might not, you get one bat cameo for reading this time ur welcome.
Forgot to add this to the first post, it's in the reblogs, but TLDR Curaré is an assassin from batman beyond.
Note: if you wanna see cool art for this AU check the Danny and the little dead girl tag on my blog!
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saggitary · 1 year
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Clone Wars Headcannons
All over the place but yeah enjoy
Ahsoka will let her men test out pick up lines before shore leave and give them tips on how to better pick up girls
Ahsoka picked up her eye rolling habit from Wolffe
Fives and Echo refer to Rex as “oh captain my captain” (Rex is very annoyed)
Clone troopers sleep better when they cuddle up with someone
Anakin has given Ahsoka and many of his men heart attacks when he randomly removes his prosthetic hand
There are painted line of the Resolutes floor near the medical bays to mark how far troopers have made it when they attempt to escape the medics
This usually ends with the medics full body tackling their vod and occasionally their Jedi
Hardcase has the furthest mark with Fives very near behind him
Much to Wolffe’s dismay young animals love to imprint of him during campaigns, he says he hates it but Sinker once saw Wolffe carrying around a baby loth cat wrapped in one of his blankets
Rex is a natural blonde due to a mutation and I will die on this hill
Fox and Wolffe have the highest spice tolerance of their batch and their brothers are very concerned for them
Based on the scene in the Umbara arc where Tup is hanging onto the gunship handle with 2 hands, he is a very nervous flier
Ahsoka noticed that Tup was a nervous flier and now tries to get on the same ships as him to help keep him calm
The 501st has different tallies up throughout the barracks for random things like ‘how many times the general loses his lightsaber’, ‘best quotes for the week’, etc
Clone troopers speak mando’a, kaminoan, and basic fluently
Rex always wins arm wrestling contests, even against Anakin
Ahsoka learned how to play sabacc from the Wolf Pack and has been banned from playing in most 501st circles because she always wins
The CCs have the ability to sleep with their eyes open and Wolffe and Fox actively chose to do so to creep everyone else out
Cody has broken his wrists and his shins from fist fighting droids but he continues to do it
Many troopers in the 501st have also attempted to fist fight droids but quickly stopped when the medics refused to treat them
Anakin has also attempted to fist fight droids and damaged his cybernetic hand enough that he had to get a new one
Ahsoka purrs when she sleeps close to other people 
Hardcase almost cried when he first heard Ahsoka purr because he thought it was cutest damn thing
Capture the flag is the 501st’s favorite down time activity
Cody has hidden drugs in Obi-Wan’s tea to make him sleep which Obi-Wan was rather offended by but continued to accept all tea given to him by his commander
Ahsoka set up a projector in the rec room and on hyper space trips she plays holomovies so her men can be ‘cultured’ 
Ahsoka is good friends with Padme and Riyo Chuchi and regularly gets together with them for girls nights
Rex has gotten a tattoo while drunk but Cody is the only one that knows about it
Ahsoka found out when her men’s birthday or decanting days are and makes sure to wish them a happy birthday
Ponds, Bly, and Fox were very confused when they received a transmission from Rex, Cody, and Wolffe’s vod’ika wishing them a happy birthday
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0h0possum · 3 months
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Codywan Headcanon/AU that lives rent free in my head
I think my favorite codywan headcanon/AU is that they are just so good at being professional and discreet when they need to, for literal years, that no one knows they are a thing.
Like my favorite idea of codywan is that they both agree their duties and obligations come first. Honestly they kinda deal with it like a business contract. They sit down and agree: yes they have feelings for each other, yes they want to be together, yes they want as much as a relationship as they can get now since they both never know when one of them might die, yes they need to put their war duties first, yes Obi-wan will always put his Jedi duties first, yes Cody will always put protecting and creating a future for his brothers first, yes the will keep this relationship under raps as it could be under scrutiny for breaking GAR and Jedi rules, yes they will only act as a couple when off duty.
They are just the opposite of Anakin and Padme, no one knows about them. Cody and Obi-wan aren’t trying to hide it per say, they just are so good at being The Commander and The General that no one would ever think they were anything but professional coworkers and maybe friends. Even if there are signs they may be more, their friends and family overlook them because ‘Cody’s too strict about following the regs to be interested in a relationship’ or ‘Obi-wan is too focused on being a model Jedi and following the Code to be in a relationship’.
They are too good at balancing their lives and being ‘The Unproblematic Couple™’.
So when the war ends and they defeat Palpatine, save Anakin and get the clones rights (because we only Stan happy endings in this Codywan house), they both agree mutually to take a break.
Cody takes time to find himself away from the GAR and being The Commander. He spends time with his brothers and helping them all find their feet once they leave the GAR. He helps build a life for them all, while also taking time to find who he is besides a soldier.
Obi-wan spends time reconnecting with Anakin and Ahsoka, making amends with both of them. Getting to finally return to being a peacekeeper and not a General at war. I imagine he would maybe step down from the council to just be a simple Jedi. Not Master of Sorensu, youngest ever High council member, The Negotiator, General, or Sith Killer.
After their short break they agree to start meeting up again, seeing if they still feel the way they did about each other when not in the stressful environment of war and an army setting. But, lo and behold, they still of course love each other. (All the while everyone just assumes it’s Obi-wan and Cody meeting up as ex. Coworkers. They used to be the best of FRIENDS during the war)
After Obi-wan sees Anakin is fine (living with his wife and kids) and the rest of the Order isn’t in dire need of his help, and Cody sees his brothers are finding their feet in the world without need of his leadership, they both just decide they’ve been dating long enough (a few year during and after the war) and they’ve put other duties ahead of theirs relationship long enough.
They just fucking get married and buy a house. Obi-wan leaves the order and Cody moves away from his brother. And they just get married.
WHICH COMES OUT OF NOWHERE TO EVERYONE ELSE. Everyone’s like “??!!!”, “since when have you two ever been together?!”
And fucking Obi-wan and Cody (with biggest deadpan older brother energy) just say “oh yeah, since like the middle of the war? We thought you guys knew? It just never came up in conversation?”
Just absolutely bamboozling everyone in their lives. Rex and Anakin both are like “YoU nEvEr ThOuGhT tO tElL mE? YoUr BrOtHeR?”. Cue Obi-wan and Cody vaguely shrugging and saying ‘there were more important things going on’.
But yeah I just like the idea of Cody and Obi-wan jump scaring their families with their relationship.
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