#Monster and a menace.

[fadedrainbowbookshelves]

You know she mailed that letter herself.

[keferon]

Monster hunter au part 3

Also known as “Drift is a giant fox beast” comic ahah

I like to think these trails are really important as a safe space for Deadlock. This is his home, these are his favorite routes and his familiar and safe space.

So when he shows his paths to Ratchet it's a big gesture of trust. Because they're what makes the forest his home and he's willing to let Ratchet into that home:)

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Also. This au exists in the same world as my Spellbound au. Just in case you wanna break your heart a little bit

[bluegiragi]

monster!au sketchdump #2

1-2: monster swap!! purely indulgent, since if they were actually these monsters from the start, they'd all have turned out different.

3: price in his prime! he was a real tank, but he grew out of his destructive phase.

4: preening time with gaz <3

early access + nsfw on patreon

[sibmakesart]

have some sketches

[hunterinkoseh]

I think I'm the only person in the world who downloaded the 'menacing macaw' costume for the Cohoot. You could hear it screeching from across the village. 😂 Here's a menacing macaw glaive.

[beaudesoleil]

almudron ily but you're such a pain in the ass to deal with

[ofswordsandpens]

"the Gabe and Sally dynamic in the show is abusive" and "the way they've portrayed Gabe in the show is distinctly different from his book counterpart and fans can criticize that" are two discussions that can coexist

[aberrantcreature]

Beast of Vengeance

Quest - Hunt Maul

Threat Level - ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Species: Brute Wyvern (Yes he is because I say so leave your nit pick correcting comments to yourself I have had enough of them.)

Elements: Fire

Ailments: Fire Blight, Bleed

Location(s): Coruscant, Dathomir, Mandalore

The dreaded, nomadic Maul is an invasive danger to all ecosystems it persists in. When natural food sources are low, the wyvern can survive for a long while off the energy and malice it produces in its body. It’s memory is long, and it’s ambition is great.

[cod-dump]

Price: Uh… why do you have a skirt of garlic?

Demon!Ghost: So Soap will leave my ass alone and stop trying to bite it

Price: Why would he bite your ass?

Demon!Ghost: He won’t because of the garlic. Aren’t you listening?

[cheriafreya]

You never cease to be a source of fascination... Delightful.

[dropsnectar]

New here, found you from your kitsune post. I don't know if this is the kind of ask you like but. I'm imagining fluff of the kitsune, maybe he takes a prank too far, messes with something too cherished, a necklace, stuffed animal, something of the sort. He hadn't expected to make you cry, that's not the face he wanted you to make. Quickly moving into a perceivable form while handing you back the thing he whisked away or helping you pick up the mess before coming over to kiss your face, wrapping his soft tail around you and rubbing your back. He hadn't meant to upset you this much.

Our Kitsunes nonsense strikes again!

Ever since he had revealed himself to you, things had been... entertaining. He still messed with you of course. It was in his nature to twist thongs to suit him, whether it be replacing your furniture with higher quality, more comfortable seating or you finding random groceries on the counter, often the ingredients of the dinner he wanted you to offer him tonight. And instead of waiting outside by that uncomfortable stump, he had graced you with his presence, his nine tails flitting about over a meal well cooked. It was only right that he sit with you, as he could see your face better from a chair, rather than a corner or a window.

Sensing his thirst for variety you had also started bringing different types of alcohol to dinner. You'd learn the stories and histories around each drink and share their tales over dinner. You only ever had a glass but your fox, not having to worry about work tommorrow, would take his full fill.

He was rather cute while drunk, moving you to the living room couch to cuddle as he'd ask you more questions, about the alcohol but mostly about you. His tails always had a habit of curling themselves around you, pushing you closer to him as he stared at your face with an unbreakable gaze. It made you blush.

Sometimes when you were midsentence he'd cut you off with a kiss, sharing the taste and tipsiness of the alcohol. But sometimes the two of you would talk all night, and he'd follow you to bed to watch you sleep in his arms. Hed been very clingy recently, ever since that night.

You were his favorite entertainment, as their was always something new he could gleam from you. A new reaction, new information, a new experience as you guys walked together under the moonlight. Their was an issue though. An annoyance. A bane of his that made possession boil in his chest and his hackles stand.

He had given you a gift, him! Holding you as you sleep! He was so generous, he knows this, sharing his heat with a human in the cold of night. He was saving your life really. But you had this... habit. Instead of pulling yourself into his warm chest, or wrapping your beautiful legs around his tails. You had a habit of holding this... thing in your arms.

It was a pillow-like thing, an anima. Pperhaps a dog? Or a bear. The thing was so weathered it was hard to tell. And you'd kiss its little snout every night before you'd snuggle it and pass out. It wasn't every night, just the nights he was your big protector spoon.

But still! He could be small and fluffy too! He had a fox form! You should have kissed his snout.

When his graciousness had finally run out he took that wretched little pillow and dropped it out in a marsh pond in the woods. He even magicked the pond so no one else could find the thing, lest you wander about in the woods and find it.

What he hadn't expected was to find you the next day searching every corner of the house manicly, like hed stolen your paycheck for the next month.

He makes himself known and you rush to him, desperation and panic in your eyes.

"Where did you put my stuff animal? I know you like to play games but this is really important!"

His eyes narrow in disdain.

" You mean that little plush rag? Why do you need it? I can hold you so much better than it can." He refused to be sorry but your eyes welled with tears as the realization flit across your features. Hurt. True hurt filled every crevice if your face and his stomach turned. No no, he didn't like seeing you like this, not that face. Never that face, he didn't want it.

"My grandmother gave me that stuffy before she died. Its all I have left to remember her. Give it to me now."

Immediately, he magicked up the plush. It was dripping and muddy. You grabbed for it quickly but he held it up above your head, a finger out. He magicked it clean, then passed it back into your arms. He understood now. Once, he used to have a grandmother too.

Blazing hot shame trickled down his throat and blazed into his stomach. His ears pushed flat against his head as he felt sick for what he had done. There would always be games to play, but he never wished to hurt you. And with something so sentimental too. Family was everything after all, especially to a kitsune.

"There is no excuse. I will never touch it again, I promise."

You held your stuffy to your face, staring at his limp tails and flat ears. You had never seen him so openly ashamed before. Pride was like air to this being and to see him so devoid of it was novel.

"I'll forgive you. But only on one condition."

He looked at you, eyes tired.

"What is that, then?"

You held out your stuffy with both arms.

"You kiss his snoot and say sorry."

He looked at you, and with as much poise as he could manage, he kissed the plastic nose of the stuffed animal.

"I'm sorry, little thing." His eyes went back to you.

"So you like small fluffy things, huh?"

You gave him a small smile.

"Maybe. Whats it to you?"

Their was a puff of white smoke. When the air cleared you looked down to find a small fox kit, staring up at you with big adoring eyes. You squeeled, and carefully set down your stuffy on the table.

You leaned down to the kit and hesitantly pet his little head. It was soft. He chirped at you, encouragingly and you pulled him into your arms, cradling him to your chest as all of his tails wagged about and brushed your skin.

You knew it was him but you couldn't help it. You crooned and pet him, kissed his snout and his little fuzzy forehead. You snuggled him furiously and sat with him on the couch. You swear you could hear him purring the whole time, the grumbling making you feel calm and at ease with him. Eventually, you lean foreward and kiss his forehead again.

"You are forgiven."

[piratefishmama]

I Wish | Part 6

It was a clean sweep, the guys called it quick enough, which was disappointing for Eddie since he’d never come across a monster quite like the beast he had to play with, but no amount of quick thinking from his band mates could save them from the untimely demise of their characters.

They didn’t have enough spell slots, hit points were straggling, their potions mysteriously vanished, the weaponry they were sure they had in reserves had been used, and only one real lucky saving throw wasn’t enough to save them the following turn.

The False Hydra lurking in the cliffside caves of Rainwund snatching sailors, their ships, townsfolk, and livestock got them. Each and every one of them.

They knew what it was too early though, with Eddie’s flippant dismissal of characters his bandmates were supposed to know, his adamant insistence that no, the town was always that quiet the hell are you talking about, Gare?

Jeff made a spot on educated guess.

It still hadn’t saved them in the end, Dougie’s character lost first with a frankly dreadful saving throw, followed by Gareth’s own little gnome who lasted one full turn longer than he should have, and then finally Jeff himself, but he’d called it. Eddie knew his own friends back home wouldn’t be so quick to catch on, which was the only saving grace for this short jaunt into futuristic DND possibilities.

He could completely blindside his friends.

Probably for the best given this whole thing was meant to fit into a neat little segment on a talk show. Not to span across hours and hours of gameplay, they were already cutting it close to too long.

So, Eddie wrapped it up. With Jeff’s demise, Eddie rose to his feet, arms extending in a great sweeping arc “You fought bravely, oh daring soldiers of ill-fate, however upon this sorrowful day, the town of Rainwund was lost to the song of the False Hydra, it, and it’s victims, would be forgotten by the world and all who walk upon it. Perhaps one day, one fateful day, a new team of would-be heroes will find and defeat this deadly foe, but until then… I humbly bid you fallen soldiers, a peaceful journey to the great beyond.”

The lights dimmed, and for a moment, there was silence while set personnel found their places, then the lights overhead relit with the cameras refocused on the desk and chairs, where Jimmy had relocated.

“Everyone give a big hand to the members of Corroded Coffin!” Applause and cheers rang through the studio, over which he made quick work of reiterating album release dates for them, followed by a quick request of, “stay tuned after the break we’re joined by the cast of MARVEL’s new—” Eddie tuned him out for the rest of it, they were being guided off by stage crew, their segment was over, it was done.

The bubble of imagination popped, the activity giving Eddie a modicum of comfort was over and done with, and maybe he’d stretched it on just a little longer than necessary with peppered suspense, but he couldn’t hold off whatever came after anymore.

Steve met them behind the curtain, beyond the veil of stage lights and TV magic, he gifted the boys little Tupperware containers which they plucked from him as they walked by full of snacks he’d apparently pilfered from the catering tables, Eddie however, he gently manoeuvred Eddie into a side room out of the way with a chirped little “and you’re coming with me, hotshot.”

The room which was dressed up like some kind of fancy dungeon, had curtains pinned to the walls, fake candles flickering on tables, and in the middle, surrounded by chairs, was a table topped by a haphazardly drawn dungeon map and a few mini figs, it looked a little bit like a discount version of his drama room domain in high school.

“What’s goin on?”

“Jimmy wants to do a little opener introduction thing with you as the frontman of the band, it should have been filmed before but you were a little in your own head, so to make you feel better they figured it’d be best to do it afterwards. It’s nothing scary, it’s to go with your little DND thing out there, he wants to basically ‘walk in’ on you as a dungeon master, scheming with a few of your mini figurine things. Maybe throw in a little maniacal laugh for him to walk in on. Is that okay?”

“Oh, uh… yeah, okay, yeah that’s fine, I can do that” one last thing to do, not that it mattered much, but it was part of the experience! But then… thinking about it, “is there any point to that though?” Steve raised a single brow in question “I mean, I’m going home right?” The second brow joined the first and Eddie couldn’t help but panic a little. “I am, right?” He couldn’t imagine going through all that without the assurance that he was going home after it all.

What a wild thought, considering fame and fortune had been the goal for so long, just one interview and he was ready to throw in the towel, and it wasn’t even a bad interview. He just… didn’t feel the happiness he thought he would.

He felt… lonely.

His band were off with their snacks, hadn’t even looked back as he was guided away from them, his ‘partner’ had ditched him before the whole thing, he’d ‘blocked’ him, whatever that meant, and even the fun opener with the host wasn’t a whole band thing, just him. On his own.

All alone.

“If you want to, sure, just say the word. Didn’t you wanna experience this first though?”

“I guess…” Steve took one prolonged look at him, then snapped his fingers, the flickering faux candlelight froze, the sound from outside the room stopped, everything just. Ceased, and Steve dropped the mirage of normalcy he’d adopted to blend into the masses, returning to the damn near ethereal looks he’d had when he’d first appeared “Steve?”

“I’m not going to force you to experience something you’re emotionally done with, Eddie.” Steve stepped closer to him, just close enough to take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. His hands were warm, big… comforting… fingers smooth but they tingled against his skin, as if the digits themselves were wrapped in a magical field of energy. They probably were. They were an instant balm to his drooping mood in any case “If you’re done with this… if you’re tired, you can opt out, leaving this time behind wont hurt anyone here, you can go back home, and we can do something else.”

Gods there was just something so dangerous about Steve, not in the literal sense, although probably yes, in the literal sense too, but he was so… everything. He was everything. His eyes alone, the worlds most valuable golden trinkets couldn’t compare to the shimmer in those eyes of his, as subtle as it may have been, there were flecks of gold in that hazel-green hue. Eddie could have probably lost every single minute, second, millisecond of his available lifetime, just looking at him.

How did he ever think this man was just a random homeless stranger wandering in from the cold? Better question, how was he going to manage being even remotely normal around him going forward?

“I feel like, if I stay… I’m going to walk directly into like, the worst possible thing an it’s gonna make me feel like shit, what’s the odds of that?”

“Mmmnn” he squinted an almost pained expression, tilting his head just a little as he thought about it “ninety percent chance of a bullshit experience.”

Eddie took one more look around the room, then down to his aged and weathered hands clasped within Steve’s own, nodded in self-affirmation, and then met Steve’s eyes once more. “Steve… I wish we were home.”

With a twinkle of the golden flecks in his eye, a warm smile on his lips, and a snap of his fingers, the makeshift dungeon room melted away out of existence. He hadn’t witnessed this the first time around, getting to that time had been a black out, and then he’d woken up to it all. This time, Eddie got to watch.

He got to watch as the world reshaped, formed around them, he got to watch his hands de-age, the wrinkles of time worn into his skin disappearing before his very eyes, tattoos that’d marked his arms vanished until only the ones he recognised remained. His clothes returned, his body regained its youth and all the aches and pains that’d lingered in the back of his mind as a rockstar faded away.

And just like that, the trailer materialised around them. It was dark outside, as if nothing had changed. As if no time had passed. The smells, musty cigarette smoke, the faint scent of coffee, the pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof and gravel outside. He was home.

And Steve was still there, smiling at warmly him, as if he hadn’t just reshaped reality around them, as if everything was normal.

“Better?” His voice even sounded warm, like a heated blanket on a cold day, instant all enveloping comfort.

He wanted to say yes. Wanted to at the very least nod his head, but everything all at once was so very too much, everything he’d been working towards, that they’d been working towards, the band practices in Dougie’s garage, the ‘gigs’ at the Hideout, all the talk, the plans, the promises to themselves that they were gonna make it, they were gonna do something with their talents.

He’d hated it. He’d hated everything about it. He couldn’t even recall if Wayne had been mentioned during the whole ordeal. Was Wayne still around? Was he present? In his life at all? Had he just abandoned his uncle for deeply unfulfilling fame and fortune?

His next exhale came with a sob he couldn’t hold back, and instantly he found himself drawn into two broad arms and a strong embrace. “Oh, Eddie… hey, no it’s okay, I’m here, it’s okay, you’re okay” words uttered so softly into his hair, close enough to his ear that he didn’t have to strain to hear them over the opened floodgates that were his sobs.

He’d tried so hard, for so long with that one goal in mind. And he’d hated it. He couldn’t even stick around for a whole day without the promise that he could get the fuck out of there at any point, and even WITH that promise, he’d bailed early. He couldn’t handle it. He didn’t want it. After all that planning, all those promises to himself, to the band… he didn’t want it.

He was already too far into his life to plan for anything else. He wasn’t getting into college, he struggled to hold down normal jobs, not that he could even get one with his family name hanging over his head, with Al and his bullshit haunting him around every goddamn corner. People wouldn’t even hide their damn sneers, probably wouldn’t even interview him even if he did wanna work there, which he probably didn’t.

His life was one big dead end. How would he even face his friends? How would he even explain it to them? That he couldn’t, that fame wasn’t meant for him? That the cards of life would hand him the shittiest of deals if he stuck around for that draw?

He only vaguely registered Steve moving him as he spiralled, as he sobbed into the Genie’s shirt. The gentle guidance that took him from the living room where they’d rematerialised, to the chaos that was his own bedroom, and then onto his bed, ever so gentle in his manoeuvring that Eddie only realised they’d switched locations when Steve actually wrapped him in his own blanket, always with one arm around him. Never letting him go. Ever so attentive to his charge. Eddie chanced a look at him, his eyes wet, red rimmed, Steve looked perfect.

Of course he looked perfect. Not a hair out of place, his skin shimmering gold in the light. Perfect and entirely too soft in his attention on him.

“I—” Steve shook his head, his smile lacking in pity but drenched in sympathy.

“It’s okay, Eddie… I get it. This is a lot, what you’ve seen, witnessed, what you now understand about that life it’s a lot to take in. You’re going to hurt for a while, but you’ll be okay.”

“W-what do I even—even do now? I—I was gonna—the plan was always—I don’t have anything else, Steve… what am I gonna do?” His friends would be fine. They’d always be fine. They had options, parents who forced them to think of what ifs, of back ups for if the fame and fortune didn’t work out. Funny how it wasn’t because it wouldn’t happen, but because it would, and that it’d suck.

Eddie hadn’t even let Wayne try and make him think of back ups. Fame was it, stardom was the end goal, they’d be famous, and everything would be perfect. How naïve he’d been.

“Whatever you want, Eddie, you have a genuine Genie right here” he even motioned to himself, smile widening a little in a kind tease, before it softened once more just for him “but right now, I think you should sleep, we can go through the rules of Genie ownership in the morning.”

“Rules?” Eddie sniffled, lifting a blanket covered hand to wipe at his face, it was fine, his blanket had seen worse. God he was so tired all of a sudden. Probably the meltdown.

“Genies come with rules, Eddie, we come with guidelines. You kinda ploughed through with that big one right from the jump, didn’t really give me a chance to give you the run down, no harm no foul though, you’re safe, and you’re wiser. We can go through everything in the morning when we’re less frazzled.”

“Okay… but wait, my uncle, he’ll be home in the morning, he doesn’t—doesn’t know you’re here, where are you even gonna go?”

“Crone used to say that like the Fae—” Eddie wasn’t going to bring that up but he clocked it, the word snagged in his tired brain like a fish in a net, Fae, there were Fae? Fae were real? Steve continued undeterred “—‘my surroundings adapt to my presence’, like how she just blends into wherever she pops up, it’s weird, but it’ll be like I’ve always been here to him. He won’t even notice the difference. Nobody will. Just don’t send me back to my bottle, don’t tell me to go into my bottle. Don’t do that.”

“… Why?” Not that he would if Steve didn’t want to be in the bottle, but didn’t Genies just… stay in their bottles? Wasn’t that like, their homes?

“Cause you’ll lose me, I’ll lose you. I told you this already but…it's been a long day. Listen... sending me back to the bottle is equivalent to banishing me and you’ll never get me back again.” Maybe not home then, Eddie’s eyes widened, suddenly sobered by the idea of Steve just vanishing because he’d said something stupid. “I had a master last half an hour once because he told me to get back into the bottle to hide from his wife. I’m here, nobody will know what I am, nobody will think anything is wrong with me being here, won't even question it, don’t send me back… please?” Steve took his hands into his own, holding them tight in his warm, tingling grip “I—I don’t wanna go back.”

It was the least composed he’d seen the Genie since he’d met him what felt like weeks ago. It’d been a few hours. A few hours, and that was in another timeline, time didn’t even seem to have passed in his own.

He looked… desperate. Eyes wide, pleading. A smarter man might have questioned him, checked for loopholes, traps, anything nefarious a Genie might hide in plain sight, they were supposed to be tricksters after all.

But Eddie was not a smart man, he was also completely gone over those eyes. Tragic, really.

He sniffled once more, but nodded his head, eyes drooping, exhaustion catching up to him after his almost cathartic meltdown. “Okay… but where are you going to sleep?” If Genies even slept, it wasn’t like there were many options in the single bedroom trailer. Wayne had to sleep on a fold out cot in the living room for crying out loud.

“I’ll sleep with you, that’s fine right?” Oh.

A smarter man, would also probably just use his unlimited wishes to wish for a second bed, but again. Eddie was not a smart man.

“Yeah okay, that’s uh—that’s okay.” Eddie was in fact the least smartest man he knew.

Steve smiled brighter than the goddamn sun, and Gods both young and old, Eddie was so very fucked.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Holt getting into a bad situation and taking off his headphones and it’s just Jackson “too tired for this shit” Jekyll armed with nothing but audacity and a scalpel.

And he’s the one they should be afraid of.

[starry-bi-sky]

Mother of Monsters - DPxDC au,,,, snippet? headcanon thing? I briefly wrote words

Layal's (Fem!Dan's) aesthetic swerves from one side to the other on the metronome: either she's dressed like royalty (she is a combination of Vlad and an Al Ghul, after all), adorned in silks and satins and gold. Or, and you'll see this on her island more often than anywhere else, she's dressed like a farmhand.

You see, it's hard to wear your favorite silks when you have to bottle feed a wyvern later -- for more reasons than just getting it dirty. Getting any form of stain out of silk is so difficult, but trying to keep a squirming little beast still against the fabric even more so. They can be so clingy, and she's lost many of her favorite robes against their knife-sharp claws.

And you can't play with the stymphalian vultures while wearing your favorite gold bangles and ruby earrings, or you'll lose your hand and never see either of your earrings again. They love their shinies, magpies, all of them.

And oh, ancients forbid, her greedy little sea serpents found it funny to snag their maws on her velvet sleeves and hems and drag her into the water with them. They were practicing their drowning techniques, and while she couldn't be more proud, she wished it didn't have to come at the cost of her nicest clothes.

So yes, it didn't take her too long to realize that her favored extravagant style had to be swapped out -- for all of their sakes.

[drac-kool-aid]

I like how in these past two entries Dracula is just There In the Background.

He's a flying bat, maybe a bird, he's that figure on the seat over there in the distance with the glowing red eyes. This is so different from how he menaced Jonathan (where he was the creepy old man that is Actively Keeping Me Prisoner yet still wants to have nightly chats) or the Demeter crew (where he understand the Nothing is Scarier trope and generally keeps out of sight till the end).

This time, he's just chillaxing in the background because we've had those two instances of different flavors of horror, and now we are thoroughly terrified of him, so just seeing him in the background is enough.

And this kind of tickles me in a weird way because I do so love when you can see the danger. It may not be actively menacing you. In fact, it may be moving away from you. Honestly, you don't even know if it has noticed you, and it's still TERRIFYING.

Like, sure, the idea that the monster is watching you and you not realizing it is scary, but sometimes you watching the monster is worse.

[serpentgoat]

ITS JOHHHNNNNN THEE HEE