Some Father-son Relationship In An AU Where Strickler Adopts Jim When He Was A Baby And Raises Him Along

Some father-son relationship in an AU where Strickler adopts Jim when he was a baby and raises him along with Barbara💙💚

Walter Strickler - 💚 Posted on instagram at FedyJKN [COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN]

Little school doodle about a fanfiction I'm reading and seriously loving. I'll put the link below to read it and I recommend you take a look at all of this author's works because they are really talented!

Ehy guys I just dropped the first chapter on AO3 (below is the link, but if you want you can also read it here on Tumblr)

Hope you guys enjoy it!

Lullaby-(Prologue)

In the beginning, there were trolls, magical beings born from the hearts of special stones and become alive by forces unknown to us, and humans, devoid of any kind of magic.

In time, these supernatural forces that we think of as magical, crept into the hearts of humans and thus wizards were born... But wizards were not well liked by either humans or trolls and only a few of them were accepted in King Arthur's court, two of whom were Merlin and Morgana.

Merlin was very powerful and worked for King Arthur following his every order, but Morgana... No, she was a real rebel. She found trolls to be wonderful creatures, unlike her king, and believed that they had just as much right to live on earth as human beings. Perhaps that is why she sided with Gunmar, a powerful troll born from the heart of a rotten Heartstone from within, certainly not the kindest of trolls or the most tolerant of the sorceress's human nature, which he by habit calls "fleshbag," but still smart enough to recognize great potential in her.

The two had a plan: to create eternal night, so that trolls, vulnerable to sunlight, could live on the surface without fear of being brushed by the sun's rays, but to do this, Morgana needed to create spies who would bring information to both her and Gunmar and who could mix among humans without being conspicuous. And that is what happened: Gunmar ordered the Gumm-Gumms to raid every troll village, capturing the cubs and killing those who opposed his rule. Many baby trolls were captured during those bloody slaughters and many more died as a result of that unrelenting violence. The baby trolls were thrown into cages and kept segregated in the deepest darkness of the caves, away from the light and their families.

The cage cave was large, very large, and cold. The humidity could freeze the stone skin of the little prisoners and scratch their wills better than whatever torture their torturers had in servitude for them. Not seeing the starry sky, being far from their families, and the knowledge that they would never again be able to taste the flavor of freedom often made them beg to be killed there and then, so as not to further prolong the torture that, without the sensor of passing days, seemed endless.

The Gumm-Gumm often enjoyed torturing, beating and abusing them, but no hero in shining armor would come to their rescue....

The "loveless," as they were called by their tormentors, would all die of starvation, hunger and fear after endless and unspeakable tortures, and only death, their friend and salvation, would come to grant them sweet eternal rest.

This went on for years. Every now and then a cub would be taken out of its cage never to return, and it only withered those little hearts that had now lost all hope as far as an escape or a possible return to their villages was concerned.

That was the case for everyone, including the Izit cub, a race of trolls accustomed to living in the thickest forests under the starry sky. A tenacious specie, but too weak to be able to escape the clutches of Gunmar and his army.

The little guy had lost so much weight that his arms were as thin as bone, and the bright spots on his skin that once characterized his coat had faded over time, blending with the dark blue that covered most of his body. His horns, still just small stone lumps on his head, trembled from the frost along with his tusks on that dark, cold night.

He was hungry, but there was no food for him. There was hardly any.

Looking around he could make out fellow prisoners in the cages hanging from the ceiling and those on the ground like his own. All were huddled together, some asleep, some crying, and still others seemed not even to be breathing, perhaps dead for days.

One of the few moments of respite for the Loveless.

The Izit cub tried to warm his paws by blowing warm air on them, but his breath was reduced to a gasp. So, trembling, he clutched his knees to his chest and hid his face against the cold stone skin.

He remained like this for a long time, until a song rang through the air.

The notes were sweet, the voice singing to her melodious.

Little Izit strained his long ears and listened intently; it was not the first time he had heard that voice, yet, each time it caused him a strange sense of curiosity and surprise.

With the witch's song also came light. A faint light of course, but still a light.

Many trolls raised their heads in search of that spark in the dark, others fled into the darkness, aware of what was about to happen: there was only one reason why the light chose to come and visit the captives, and it was nothing good.

Only one among the hundred or so awake cubs remained still: the Izit.

The woman, continuing to chant, moved forward looking ahead. She did not seem particularly interested in the contents of the cages or in assessing how Gunmar's prisoners were doing, rather she seemed serene. She kept murmuring the notes of a song in a language the little trolls had a hard time chewing: human.

The witch advanced until she passed the cage of little Izit, who meanwhile dared not look up or move even a muscle. He would have liked to see the light, but to what end? It would only remind him how much he missed the freedom and the starry sky that he had so loved to look at when things were not yet so hopeless.

The footsteps suddenly ceased and with them the divine singing.

There was a clang of metal and the cage door opened.

Not even at that moment did little Izit look up. It was only when a hand was extended toward him and the smell of living flesh permeated his nostrils that he let his four bright eyes wander until they met Morgana's green ones.

She was beautiful. The red hair, the thin lips, the gentle smile... she was so bright.

"Hey little one..." She whispered, cautiously. She tried to caress his face, but Izit's pet retracted his head slightly, startled by Jade's hand.

"I will not hurt you..." The woman continued in a melodious voice.

How could a voice sound so sweet?

"How long have you been here?"

The puppy did not answer, but his eyes spoke for him: He did not remember; he had forgotten what it was like to be brought to that place and thrown into a cage, he had forgotten what his name was and what his parents looked like.

His mind was a blank slate, perfect for what the witch was looking for.

Morgana's gaze softened incredibly, giving way on her face to an even warmer smile.

"Come here..."

The woman's arms picked up the troll's slender little body and lifted him effortlessly. He offered no resistance; after all, if his fate was really to disappear as the other "Loveless" before him had done, he might as well go along with it. Even if he had wanted to, he would not have had the strength to fight anyway.

As the witch stepped away from the cages, walking between two massive trolls with a creepy iron mask on their faces, she stroked Izit's head, running a hand through the blue hair and feeling the still-developing horns.

"Now that you have me, you will no longer be alone." She whispered into his animalistic ears. The troll cub snuggled up to her and let her song lull him as his eyelids grew heavier. Although he was afraid, Morgana's presence helped calm him and for a moment he wondered if indeed that witch would be able to make him feel loved again.

And so it was: Morgana gave that puppy all the love that only a mother can give.

She fed him, gave him a name, a warm bed, educated and trained him...

And then... She slaughtered him.

She broke his bones, changed his nature and made him unrecognizable in the eyes of the other Izit.

She transformed him into something that nature would never have combined: an impure troll, capable of walking among men in the sunlight.

She transformed him.

She turned him into a changeling.

YOUR ART IS SO AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 😍😍

AWWW really thank you, this is very sweet! It definitely made my day better🥺💛

Anyway if anyone has any requests for drawings please post them in the question box!<3

Strickler headcanon?

Strickler Headcanon!

Ehyy, here are some headcanon about our favorite old avocado:

So, he definitely was a spy infiltrating Germany in World War II and that's how he met Otto.

He loves classical music because it allows him to concentrate, but often he simply prefers complete silence or white noise to relax his eardrums after days and nights of hubbub between school and Janus Order.

When he is anxious or particularly nervous, he tends to click his pen over and over again because it gives him a sense of security.

He loves oil paintings and museums of ancient art, from classical to Renaissance. (+Tries to convince Barbara to accompany him to exhibitions but she is more of a modern art type ((but they still go anyway(≧▽≦))))

He has learned to cook very well over the long span of his life, but there are still foods he doesn't mind eating raw because of his Troll nature.

He tries to suppress his Troll nature and control his instincts as best he can, but sometimes in small moments where no one is around, he does not even notice that he is letting it out in small gestures.

He used to have a tail to fly better, but he lost it in the dark lands in a fight with a Nyarlagroth and had to get used to flying without it. (But to this day he still feels the ghost of his tail.)

He spent most of his life in England, but has lived in many places. (He was born in Italy.)

He loves to take Barbara to decidedly sophisticated restaurants with atmospheres perfect for a date and usually with great views outside.

He loves it when Barbara strokes his hair or scratches his chin, but hates it when she touches his neck because he remembers all the times someone wanted to slit his throat.

His senses of sight, smell and hearing are very refined, but often ignores what he hears so as not to create discomfort in his students.

He is as bisexual as any changeling, but has a great preference for women.

He often has nightmares about the dark lands or Bular's abuse.

Loves basking in the sun but often gets gloomy remembering the fact that he may not enjoy that light forever.

He has an obsession with Napoleon. (Don't ask)