Uther Pendragon had a problem. He'd spent so long trying to search for the mysterious, elusive being roaming through the halls of his castle, his home. It wasn't enough that this…thing was clearly a magic user, no. This being also left some quite interesting messages in each room they've frequented.
Uther ordered every knight to try and capture the being, but so far, with no results. It wasn't until one day he entered his chanber and there, he saw them. White, blinding hair and electric orbs
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The creature was…. strangely stunning. So incredibly alluring. Beautifully enticing.
Sexy. As. Fuck.
Quietly, internally, Uther hoped the beautiful twink in his bedroom was into dilfs. It was his only chance at getting a creature this fantastic to……
NO!!! He shan't even think of it… This thing had been stalking the halls of his home. He couldn't just…
"I've been waiting for you, Your Highness" - the white-haired beauty had a purr in his voice. Uther shivered.
"Give me one good reason not to call the guards waiting outside this chamber right this instant."
"And take away all the fun we could have~?"
The night was certainly taking a turn…
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"I have no idea what you could mean," he retorted, "clearly you are here to murder me. Or curse me."
"Oh, darling." The creature slipped from the bed and wandered towards him, easy as if he owned the place. His eyes caught every ounce of Uther's attention. Against his better judgement, his tongue lay still.
"Tell me, your majesty, when do you take the time to rest?"
Hands began exploring his shoulders, sharp fingernails grazing his neck. The creature's teeth were sharp, his face elegant and alluring. "Why don't we relax together?"
A haze began to descend on Uther's mind, an all encompassing exhaustion. Hell yheah
Celestia had 1 rule when going out on missions with the league: never enter caves. She and caves never got along, not when she was made to soar through the skies, spread her wings and work her daylight magic all across the world. With Superman at her side, caves were slightly more manageable.
Or at least, they should have been.
Stupid joker and his stupid alliance with Discord. Now they were both stuck in the collapsed caves, the kryptonian crystals imbedded on the walls preventing her co-hero from getting them out through brute force.
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Celestia felt a dull throb of pain in one of her hooves, and her wing must have been stuck under a pile of rubble. Superman gazed at her white fur and the bloodstains on it.
"I'm so sorry, Princess Celestia. I cannot break through the walls. But… I think you could."
"My magic is not strong here. I think the Kryptonite… may just be my own kryptonite too."
"I will try to free you from this rock on your wing, but further than that, I'm afraid… It all rests on your shoulders."
Do pegasi have shoulders, Superman wondered, but refrained from asking.
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Superman collected all of his strength and heaved the rock up, freeing Princess Celestia's wing. She thanked him and tried moving it, but a sharp flash of pain stopped her. She had no choice. Even with a broken wing, she had to do this.
"Step aside," she said gently to Superman and began gathering her bearings. Nice and simple. Except it wouldn't be. Not this time.
Arthur thought he knew everything about humanity. Plus as a gay person, he prided himself to be the most knowledgeable about men especially. Yet when he saw a blue-eyed man who ALSO couldn't walk, he was shocked- How could one be so unloved by the red threads of fate to be simultaneously disabled AND cursed with blue shimmering orbs… The man,
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with his shiny, beautiful, sexy bald little head, was unfortunately irresistible. Blue orbs be damned.
They met as all good pairings of this kind do. No matter where you head, you will find a coffee shops. Yes, even in vaguely medieval fantasy settings. (See, Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldtree!) How Charles had found himself there, there's no way to tell. Probably some Otherworld bullshit. Blame Betsy Braddock.
Whatever it may be, Arthur could not tear his eyes as he strolled (rolled?) into the room with the grace of a man who really did NOT look as though he should have been born with blue orbs. Or natural blonde hair, for that matter. At the very least THAT ick had managed to fall away with the years.
It was fate. It had to be.
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There was no other option to explain this feeling which sprouted in Arthur's muscular chest. He wanted to say something, anything, but no word was coming out of his throat, his voice wholly stolen by the beautiful man.
The man who was looking at him, as if waiting for something.
"I'm sorry, did you say something?" he asked, trying to ignore his beating heart.
"I'm…looking. For someone," the man said, as if searching for the right words.
"Many people pass through here. Maybe whoever you're looking for has too. What's his name?"
Geralt observed the room, searching for his new informant. It's been a few days since he started tracking the one man who could tell him anything. According to his information, the man he was looking for had an intriguing sense of style, a strange accent and would break into song once in a while. He surely wasn't looking forward to the songs.
A man with chestnut tussled locks drew his eyes. He sat hunched at a table.
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The Witcher almost left out a grunt of exasperation. This man could either be the worst creature he had to face yet: a British man. British men were not to be confused with British women, who were, as everyone knew -especially the Dandelion- could be compared to goddesses of charisma. As for the British men… to explain it simply, they were the total opposite. A true failure of humanity with their pompous accent and malevolent rizz that could turn even the most thirsty of succubus.
But Geralt needed a contract. Needed the money to prepare for winter and so, he approached the monster, not without touching his
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sword, just in case (what did you think that was going to say, pervert?)
"'ello luv. lovely day 'ere having."
Geralt wanted to vomit.
"I'm looking for information."
"Well, for a lovely lady like yourself, anythin'"
He must have been drunk. VERY drunk. He started reaching for his guitar, so Geralt slapped his arm on the table to stop him.
"Cease, minstrel."
"Is that some kind of slur?"
"I do not care enough to call you a slur."
Harry looked away. Dejectedly.
"I like when men like you are a little mean."
Geralt had to admit, he had a soft spot for singing twinks of this kind. But he couldn't cave. Not here, not now. He had a job to do and he would do it, damn it.
i'm out of time uhhhh they bickered a bit more and then fucked. love is love gay rights happy pride
Characters: UCD's very own Newman Building & Thomas the Tank Engine
Thomas sought purpose. He had spent what felt like eternity (which you could say the limbo of being a children's entertainment mascot is akin to) moving forward, forward, forward without any goal in mind. He needed somewhere to head to. A track to follow.
After soul-searching, Thomas finally understood - what he sought, was love.
But a train engine can't love a human. At the very least, Thomas was not interested in a human romance. So he wandered. He rode on and on, an ache in his heart. And after what felt like a thousand days and nights, he saw it.
UCD's very own Newman Building. Perhaps the most conventionally attractive building Thomas had ever glimpsed. And that's when he knew he had finally found something he could truly love.
But loving Newman would not be easy.
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It started with trying to strike up a conversation. Thomas was not used to saying much, and inside his blue metallic shape, there was little room for anything other than a simple hello.
But there was no reply. Only the wind around this striking, leaking building howled around to the accompaniment of seagull cries.
Newman stood, unmoving.
This made it even more alluring.
Thomas decided he would try a different tactic.
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They were many doors to the Newman Building yet Thomas knew only one could lead to the cold heart of his true love. After much pondering whether where he should start to make his entrance, he decided on an even bolder approach: drowning himself.
The cold water was… cold as fuck. This was clearly the worst idea and God knows he had been allowed many as a literal servant for kids all around the world. He could feel his wheels getting heavier, and his eyes were beginning to close when he felt it. Something, as light as a feather, stroked his grey face.
Forcing himself to open his eyes again, he saw no one else than Stacy, the messenger of Newman smiling at him. He knew he had succeeded
It was supposed to be a regular day. The last thing Adora wanted was to be met face-to-face with someone claiming to be a "god".
"Sorry sir, you're gonna have to repeat your name to me."
The man with the floral print shirt looked at her as if she had two heads. He seemed so confused that he didn't notice the waves reaching his trousers.
"Poseidon." he said slowly. "And my fancy glasses have been stolen."
She nodded, as if knowing exactly who this man was.
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She had seen him before. Or at least, she thought so, given she hadn't stopped dreaming of a weird ass junkie with the fanciest, weirdest glasses she could ever gaze upon.
As a matter of fact, she saw them everywhere. When she woke up next to Catra, she no longer saw magnificent heterochromia orbs staring back at her but two azure flamingos glaring back at her. And when she had the misfortune to meet her own reflection, it wasn't two but eight flamingos -still blue- piercing, challenging her.
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She startled awake that morning, later than usual to the point where she barely made it in time for breakfast. There, Chiron called her aside.
"Adora," the centaur started, the air felt heavy and solemn. "You know the history of your father and his brother. How petty feuds have been at the center of some of Earth's worst periods."
Adora nodded, curious but anxious.
"It seems the Oracle has spoken. There is a new quest, and it befalls upon you."
"Poseidon's fancy glasses," Adora gasped.
"You know already?" Chiron asked, surprised.
"I've dreamed of it, I think."
"Indeed. It seems, Poseidon's fancy glasses have been stolen and he is accusing your dad, Zeus, of being at the root of this crime. You have until the Winter Solstice to find them."
"The Winter Solstice? But that is barely two weeks away!"
"That is why you need to get ready and decide on your questmates as soon as possible." Chiron said.
Adora did not need time to decide. She already knew who she needed on her quest. Her friend Bow, a child of Hephaestus known for his inventions, and Glimmer, a daughter of Iris more than able of holding her own in a fight. This would be her team to save the world.
Aang looked around. Yes, this place would be perfect. His career as a travel writer had been short so far, but it had certainly kept him occupied since his defeat of Ozai. He was yet to find a place as unique as this one - The Isle of Berk.
Aang could see dragons flying from mountain top to mountain top, aiding the locals in their work. The locals themselves were more than happy to welcome an outsider, greeting him with wide smiles. But most of all, at the centre of the village, a young man named Hiccup, right around his age, awaited him to give him a proper tour of the strange Viking settlement.
Aang was beyond pleased. The next volume of his most recent travel book was shaping up to be something truly special.
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"Welcome to Berk." Hiccup proclaimed, probably having done this many times before. "Where dragons and people live in harmony and peace." as he finished the sentence, one of the houses went up in flames. Aang stared at the rising fire, dazed, quickly noting down the details in his notebook.
Hiccup winced and began leading him away from the burning house.
"Does this happen often?" Aang asked, fascinated. He clutched the pencil tightly, ready to note down everything his guide would say.
"We're…still getting used to the 'living in peace' part. But no one has bad intentions."
Aang nodded and quickly scribbled words into the notebook.
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"You know, i have some experience with peace making." He said, setting down his notebook to observe the other. "I also used to ride a dragon, in another lifetime."
The viking smiled at him nodding towards his own dragon, a night fury, Aang was told as he quickly filled in his notebook.
"Would you like to go on a ride with toothless?"
The avatar could barely contain his excitment, grinning widely as they set off.
Aang hadn't felt such a feeling of freedom since the genocide of his people, but up ther, in the sky, he coudle breathe again. The world seemed small, and the problems he used to have were even smaller.
Up there in the sky with Hiccup, everything was okay.
Michelangelo woke up with a start. He looked around realising he wasn't in the sewers that he was so used to. A voice boomed overhead, gently saying his name.
Michelangelo.
The ninja turtle struggled to his feet, seeing the dark walls of a palace rising all around him. A dark figure appeared in front of him, shifting, but settling into the form of an older man.
"Hello, my dear", he said, before extending his hand to the mutant.
"I am Hades. You have been gifted to me to pay for your family's debts, Michelangelo".
Michelangelo looked into the dark orbs that were Hades' eyes. He was dead?
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"Are the other dudes okay? Did Shredder get us?" he eyed up the figure as he perched himself on a nearby bench -- trying to process this revelation.
"Splinter exchanged you for their safety once his gambling debts caught up with him -- you were the collateral paid in blood when I came knocking." Hades' mouth had broken into a wide grin.
"Splinter… no. He would never…" Michaelangelo wiped sweat from his brow as the heat of the room started to get to him.
"I'm afraid you don't know your 'master' quite as well as you thought you did. If it's any consolation -- he's ensured your fellows will continue gifted with my protection for years to come."
A fury broke out behind Michaelangelo's eyes as he drew his weapon at the frail-looking man. His grin broke further as his form shifted into
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a huge hellhound, sharp teeth gleaming. Michelangelo froze, unable to move even if he wanted to. The hound gave a screech, which strangely reminded him of laughter. The beast was laughing at him, merciless and unfeeling. He wanted nothing more than for this nightmare to stop.
Just as quickly as the hellhound appeared, Michaelangelo was once again staring at the man. Just as in his other form, he was laughing.
"all that anger and frustration. Let it out, here it is possible."
Michaelangelo tried to stop the tears from falling.
