Incredibly Niche And Also Cursed But It Came To Me In A Vision | Another One

some people think writers are so eloquent and good with words, but the reality is that we can sit there with our fingers on the keyboard going, “what’s the word for non-sunlight lighting? Like, fake lighting?” and for ten minutes, all our brain will supply is “unofficial”, and we know that’s not the right word, but it’s the only word we can come up with…until finally it’s like our face got smashed into a brick wall and we remember the word we want is “artificial”.

Boundless Caelus, the Sky Itself made flesh and bone, God of Death, God of Peace, God of Justice, as drawn by my wonderful friend Cover_Mystic.

She's supposed to look Greco-Roman, but the hair makes her look Egyptian. Not that it matters, I love her either way :D

Gotham Skies glow Brave and Bold

When Thomas Wayne dies, everyone feels it.

It doesn’t matter that it’s late at night. It doesn’t matter that most people are asleep or that some are so hopped up on caffeine they can taste color or that some are so drunk they can barely remember if they’re wearing shoes or not.

None of it matters.

Because suddenly, without warning, every single person in Gotham, from the poorest urchin to the sleaziest mob boss to the richest philanthropist, hears a sound like a gun going off right before something snaps.

It’s like the world stops.

Suddenly, breathing is impossible, throats caught on nothing but the shocking feeling of loss. Suddenly, skin becomes freezing cold, like all the warmth has been sucked from the room. Suddenly, knees buckle and eyes shoot open and heads turn unerringly towards the same place, looking to where there is now a hollow space in countless chests.

And suddenly, everyone knows.

Thomas Wayne is dead.

Gotham’s Sky is dead.

Someone killed their Sky.

The world stands still, breaths caught and fingers freezing and Souls screaming.

And then the world burns.

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Because if DC and Katekyo Hitman Reborn! existed in the same universe, you know everyone in Gotham would have Flames and you know the Waynes would be their Skies.

It do be like that

Version 4

Credit to RosaNRoss on ao3

It grows larger

A begrudging Happy Valentine's to you all! Stay safe out there, my fellow aromantics ...

The latest version, V5

I continue to torment my platonic spouse

Credit to RosaNRoss

The Nightingale sings

There is a time, when Bryce is young and grieving and furious, where she thinks of never Claiming anything.

She thinks of simply staying as she is, human-enough and powerless, because she has seen how her father struggled with hiding, with denying, for so many years and with so many people, and she doesn’t think she can do the same. Not when she has just watched her parents be lowered into the ground and buried.

She thinks of it. Consider it, even.

But then she thinks of the way her father’s face had lit up, that first time she asked why the stars were singing. Thinks of the first touch of moonlight against her cheek when she sat in her window late at night, soft and steady and comforting. Thinks of the weight of the shadows on her shoulders, a heavy blanket that covered her completely as she stared dully at blood soaked streets.

She thinks of all that and more, her father’s smile as he told her stories from days long past, her mother’s teasing at her husband’s delicate wings, Alfred dry sarcasm when once again faced with the glitter, and she knows that she will not be able to ignore the call of the Night when she is finally ready to lay her Claim.

She is a Fairy, after all. They can never resist that which Calls them for very long.

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I genuinely cannot remember how the hell I came up with this, but I found it in my docs folder a decided I might as well share it.

Hi friend! Came to follow from ao3! Hope you like it on tumblr!

It's been a bit strange, but also very fun! :D

You know, if you think about it a little strangely, then inviting a romance-repulsed aromantic to a wedding is a bit like inviting a nun to an orgy.

It’s just gonna end up with a bunch of people having a good time while getting stared at by a confused, horrified person who has no idea what is even happening or why everyone is so happy about it.