#When was the last time i drew a quadruped

[rondo-grazioso]

mega absol

[ctrl-alt-tahu]

A Bionicle Advent Calendar: December 1st (Day 1)

The Prompt: Make one of your characters a human-like android and the other their inventor/owner/etc.

A mechanical being. That’s what Dume wanted. “Mechanical” was easy for Nuparu. Some quirk of his mind, some glitch in his own programming had given him the gift of assembling pieces. But after the Krahli, it was not enough for Turaga Dume that he make things mechanical; he wanted mechanical beings.

Not just a chance to improve on the Krahli, Nuparu mused to himself, as he sketched out a rough profile. Those had been modelled more closely on Rahi: quadrupeds, tails, stingers. If the Turaga wanted something more than that, well, he was going to get it. A bipedal design began to emerge from Nuparu’s etchings, but not some mere Matoran.

“Design flaw, really, the way Toa are just bigger Matoran…” muttered Nuparu to himself, “but if they don’t need a mask, we can do something useful with the head… projectile, maybe…”

~*~*~*~

Nuparu worked through the night several times before he was ready to present the first Vahki to Turaga Dume. It was elegant: lithe legs and strong arms, as capable of walking erect as leaping about on all four limbs. It could climb, run, shoot disks, and he was fine-tuning variable staves they would wield with terrifying powers.

“Metru Nui need never fear when it has Nuparu to guard it,” said Dume approvingly as Nuparu put the Vahki through its paces.

“It isn’t quite finished,” Nuparu assured him. “The internal programming is far advanced from the Krahli, but I haven’t quite got him lifelike yet. The gap between creative problem-solving and truly independent thinking is eluding me.”

“Then you have already perfected it,” said Dume. “We already have an abundance of truly independent thinking in Metru Nui; indeed, I sometimes think we have too much. Loyalty and obedience will serve the Vahki much better.”

“But, Turaga, without a full sentience, a Vahki would be easy prey for a Dark Hunter or a rogue Toa. If she were to stand a chance—”

“She?” Turaga Dume interrupted. “Nuparu,” he added more gently, “Metru Nui already has Toa. The Vahki will defend the city in numbers, not by outdoing Mata Nui’s creations.”

~*~*~*~

So Nuparu made the Vahki as they were: advanced, but short of thinking, and at scale they were a devastating force, but when at last he and his team had finished the assembly of some five thousand units, he returned to his workshop with the parts for one more and began again to tinker.

It was a frustrating process: the more he tried to imitate the biomechanical marvel of his own kind, the more Nuparu realised that it was a marvel and found his own efforts wanting. Nuparu made many visits to the Archives, studying the Rahi, who had life but no sentience, and Xo, as he had nicknamed the final unit, had become a talented household aid, was far smarter than Dume’s Vahki army, and had the downloaded knowledge of ten thousand battles, but she wasn’t alive: she had no thoughts, only prompts.

Many times he thought he had a breakthrough with Xo, only to find himself in another dead end, until finally, one day, after installing yet another modification, something had changed.

“There,” he said to himself, tapping Xo back to life, after downloading the update, “what do you think of that?” It was a modest patch, really, after some of the other things he had done, just a little subroutine to introduce dreaming, but it drew a reply.

“I do not understand,” Xo told him. That was normal enough, but there was a hint of curiosity or sadness he had never heard before: perhaps a longing to understand. This was good—

But then the doors burst open and a troop of Dume’s mass-produced drone Vahki entered.

“Come with us,” ordered their leader. Nuparu noticed that none of the standard Vahki seemed to notice or care about the shining black Vahki sitting beside his workbench. Even when she stood, none noted that Xo was there.

“Where are you taking him?” asked Xo, and this confused the standard Vahki, because they all knew.

“Don’t worry, Xo,” said Nuparu, “I’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

~*~*~*~

But he wasn’t. Nuparu was taken to the Coliseum, put in a pod, and that pod would not open until Whenua poured out his Toa power on the shores of Mata Nui, and Nuparu forgot. And for a thousand years, Xo waited: through the Cataclysm and the Visorak and long sleep of Metru Nui and the return of the Matoran, and she dreamed. And when the Matoran returned, no one remembered Nuparu’s workshop and soon he was gone on a quest to save the Toa, and he did not return until the end of the city. And still she dreamed.

But when the Matoran Universe was opened up and the Matoran excavated Metru Nui to bring as much as they could to their new home on Spherus Magna, Xo stopped dreaming, and she woke to Turaga Dume showing Toa Nuparu to his workshop, and there she was: jet black armour, still glossy and polished, dark blue glowing eyes, and the smooth body posture and fluid movement of, well, not a Vahki—not even a Matoran, really. She could have been a Glatorian—or a Toa.

“Well, well, Nuparu, your workshop has some surprises yet, I see,” said Dume. “I shall leave you to clean it out properly.”

“Nuparu…” said Xo. “You have changed.”

“I’m sorry,” said Nuparu. “I don’t know you.”

“Once, you made me,” said Xo. “You must show me the world, so that I can do as you have done: change.”

[kkurainmyheart]

This was a Old Jeanpiku 104th cadets au twitter thread, so it may not make much sense.

Jean's second day in the army was the first day Jean saw Pieck Finger. The girl had gone unnoticed in the presentation of the recruits, It wasn't until Marco told him "Jean, I want to introduce you to Pieck" that he noticed her. The girl was small, with gray eyes and black hair in a ponytail. She looked friendly and calm, she came from a small town that was completely destroyed in the fall of Maria and she only had one living relative, her lovely grandmother.

Pieck, Marco and Jean shared joining the army to be MP and have a better life, so it wasn't hard for them to be friends. Jean fell in love with Mikasa and Marco, Marco began to feel things for his little friend and She seemed to reciprocate his feelings.

Marco and Pieck were two birds in love, they both sat together to eat, they both put their sleeping bags together, they both smiled shyly, but neither of them confessed their feelings. Jean began to feel jealous, displaced.

Marco was his friend first, Marco supported him and believed that Jean would be a great leader; Jean was also jealous for not being able to have that kind of relationship with Mikasa so Jean and Pieck's relationship became competitive, they became distant. So the omelettes that Jean's mother sent them were only for Marco and Jean. The apples Pieck's grandmother gave them every week were only for Pieck and Marco; and Marco tried to fix this, he really did but Pieck and Jean were stubborn and proud.

Then the day to reveal the positions came and Pieck was 5th, just above Eren, Jean and Marco and although Jean was happy, the fact that Pieck was getting over it once again bothered him because now there would be no way to separate her from Marco and he never did. Rose Wall fell and many soldiers were lost. As they collected the bodies from the streets, Jean watched Pieck paralyzed; as he approached she hugged him then he notice why, they no longer had to fight, both had lost, they both had lost Marco and it was something that both hurt deeply.

Pieck and Jean sat together to watch Marco's body burn, When Jean stood in front of Erwin Smith to join the SC, Pieck stood next to him; when Jean cried because he missed his bestfriend, Pieck also cried with him while holding his hand.

So Annie betrayed them and it was painful; then Pieck's granny died and it was painful; then Ymir, Reiner and Berthold betrayed them and it was painful. And one pain came after another and that only made Jean and Pieck become more friends than ever; and it was Jean who brought her sleeping bag closer to Pieck's; And it was Pieck who stole food with Sasha and joked with Connie; and it was Jean who told Pieck about Mikasa and it was Pieck who happened to be the object of desire of the other soldiers.

And it was Mikasa who always defended Eren and it was Pieck who always defended Jean; it was Jean who was transferred to the Levi squad; And it was Pieck who became a member of the Hange squad. but still they both stayed close. Both were there when Historia ascended the throne and both celebrated for the last time before leaving for the battle of Shiganshina. And that morning before leaving Jean stopped Pieck in the corridor, because everything was the same but at the same time everything was different, and the friendship that Jean felt had been exchanged for deeper feelings. because it was Pieck the girl that Jean drew and it was Pieck the girl with dark hair that Jean had fallen in love, and he had to say it, because in this battle he could die and he didn't want to die like Marco, he didn't want to die without telling Pieck how he felt about her. But thinking about Marco made him feel like a traitor, Marco love Pieck first. So when she looked at him with her pretty eyes and her beautiful smile the words didn't come out of Jean's mouth. He just hugged her and said: "survive". They would both return from shiganshina and Jean would confess properly. Jean came back with a heart as heavy as when he left.

Because Pieck didn't return, Pieck was burned with her entire squad just like Marco's ashes. And Jean had nothing to remember her more than the lock of hair that he kept when she asked him to help cut it. they had many casualties, the only thing that increased was the enemies, enemies like the people who lived on the other side of the sea or like the quadruped titan that arrived just in time to save Reiner and the beast titan. and Jean lived like this, with the pain of losing someone he loved.

Then the yeager brothers took control of things, and Jean became an officer like Pieck and Marco always believed it would happen, and with his first salary he put a tombstone in they honor, a symbolic tombstone in the middle of a field of lavender and daisies for his two dearest friends. Friends who flew together through the blue of the sky, friends who once again left Jean behind and that made him cry with rage. Then Jean buried those feelings how they were burned ; So he cared for Mikasa, he cared for Connie, he cared for Sasha and he cared for Armin.

And they infiltrated Marley, and that was the worst for Jean because she didn't just see Pieck in his dreams. Dreams where he asked her to marry him and leave the military life, where she became a lovable mother and waited for him to return from the battlefield. Jean also started seeing Pieck on the streets of Marley, and saw her surrounded by a squad of men, and he saw her buying vegetables from the hand of that kind old man, and he heard her laugh singing in the corners. and Jean thought he went crazy and he didn't tell anyone, but when he really went crazy it was in the assault on Liberio. Almost killed a little boy! then from the cart titan he swears he saw Pieck emerge, But it was a game of his crazy mind, Pieck was dead, it was Pieck's spirit that had appeared to tell him not to lose his humanity so Jean again didn't say anything. He didn't say anything when Sasha died, he didn't say anything when Eren betrayed them and they were locked up, he didn't say anything when the walls fell, he didn't say anything when Hange asked him to join the alliance, Jean couldn't say anything when Hange told him and Mikasa that Pieck Finger was alive and was the Cart Titan.

Then he shot 4 times, and was swallowed and spat by the same woman who swallowed his heart and spit it back; and he felt disgusted, used, even more than when Annie, Reiner, Berthold or Eren betrayed him. Jean felt disgusted because he still loved Pieck,and he was happy that she was alive, but he knew he shouldn't feel that way, he should hate her for lying to them, so Jean thought of Marco, his poor friend who died loving this woman, believing that she was a good person, and she just played with his heart.

Pieck played with Marco's feelings and as if that wasn't enough, she played on Jean's feelings, and what angered Jean the most was that he knew that if he saw Pieck again he would forgive her for everything but Pieck didn't want to get off her titan. Pieck was like a caterpillar hiding in its chrysalis, and like a butterfly she emerged in the middle of the night when she heard the truth from Reiner's mouth. the atmosphere was tense enough when Yelena spoke. She mentioned Marco and it was then that Jean learned the cruel truth. If Annie and Reiner had killed Marco , Pieck did too. Reiner said

"sorry"

but jean didn't want an apology, then Reiner said

"sorry"

again and Jean just wanted him to shut up.

And Jean wanted to say it but then he notice that Pieck was standing next to him like so many times before, and she was crying just like that day where they both saw Marco's ashes burn.

"sorry for not telling you this sooner, Pieck "

And Jean knew that Reiner's apologies weren't for him. Jean looked at Pieck for the first time in many years before hitting Reiner. All the hate and words accumulated in years coming out of his fists. Then he just sank into the woods, he needed some mental peace. He stopped under the tree that let the dew of the night fall through its leaves. The night still had stars shining in the sky, before he liked to think that the three brightest were Marco, Sasha and Pieck. Now Pieck didn't have a star She couldn't have a star because she had sat next to him and was looking at him seriously.

"I don't want to hear your apologies " he told her.

"I didn't come to apologize, it would be to regret what I did and I don't, I just want you to hear a story"

Then Jean listened, looking ahead and his knees on his chest. He listened to everything she had to say.

He hear how she started her training to save her father; how She inherited her titan and lost Marcel before reaching the walls. Marcel who was her best friend and she liked him so much. How she fought with Reiner and separated from the group to work in the cereal fields. That the kind old woman that Jean and Marco knew as Pieck's grandmother, who sent them apples and bread she had adopted Pieck because she had also lost her family in the fall of Maria. That Pieck really suffered with her death because her mother died when she was born and that granny was the only mother she knew.

Jean wanted to tell her that his mother was still mourning her loss.

"Pikku would have been an excellent wife for you Jeanbo"

but Jean only pursed his lips and fists. Then Pieck told him about how he and Marco had become important to her. That the first one who fell in love was her, Marco was an angel who had left the world very soon, the fear of losing the people she loved took hold of her when she found Marco's body. Pieck didn't say it, but she knew Jean understood. Jean understood her pain and also understood that she had nothing to do with the death of her dear friend. and also Pieck knew that Jean understood why she didn't regret what she had done. Because the reason she and Jean argued in their teens days it was because they were both the same, and both understood the circumstances of the war and the sacrifices they had to make, they needed the balance that Marco caused in their lives, It was paradoxical that this balance was found with his death.

Pieck fell silent once her heart poured out her feelings, she needed a cigarette or two or three. she matched her breathing with his, it was then that she felt the big hand taking hers and then still in silence they both cried, they cried because they understood; they cried because they had been lost for so long and they had found each other again, to get lost again in a war that would only end with the extermination of humanity or their own deaths, whichever came first. And for the first time in years that night Jean brought his sleeping bag closer to Pieck's, and he slept with her little hand in his. and in the morning when they left the woods he had not spoken to her yet, but still he felt closer to her than ever.

They protected each other to get that ship back. And when they were on board that ship heading for the unknown, maybe heading to its end . Jean decided to talk. And he take Pieck's hand and drag her to the deck of the ship and the moon looked as beautiful as her eyes and her black hair was as black as the sky and maybe it was the alcohol he drank with Connie and Reiner or just his feelings on the surface. and maybe he just wanted to tuck Pieck's hair behind her beautiful ears. And maybe he should have said something and work things out but he couldn't, he couldn't even knowing that in a few hours, in a day or 2 he or she could die. but unlike that day before going to Shiganshina he didn't tell her "survive". Jean took Pieck Finger's face and kissed her.

He kissed her lips for the first time. At 19, Jean was giving his first kiss to the woman he loved and had loved, the woman he considered dead until a few days ago, Jean gave his first kiss in the middle of a war that could kill them and this first kiss could be the last then Jean kissed her again, and he kissed her again and she kissed him back. and again and again. and when he realized that kisses weren't enough to remember her until his last breath, he looked into her eyes, searching for an answer,without words they didn't need any more words because with or without words Jean Kirstein knew he loved Pieck Finger and if he died tomorrow he wanted her to be the last thing in his thought, in his mouth, in his heart. but did Pieck Finger love Jean Kirstein? Did she ever even like him?

Then she silently took his hand and brought it to her chest and he could feel her racing heartbeat and he got it. Pieck still held Jean's hand when they went down to the cabins and still held her hand as they searched for an empty one and he held her hand stronger when they were alone in the dark. and he kissed her again and held her hand all night, because his life was too short, his life could end in a few hours and he didn't want to go to the grave without loving her.

And they burned together but this time they didn't turn to ashes. And when the sun came out announcing the morning they were reborn. And Jean swore this time to protect her and live all his dreams with her once this was over. and Pieck promised herself that if this time she truly died, she would do so in the arms of the man in front of her. So they got on that plane and they fought that battle, and they protected each other but it wasn't enough.

it wasn't enough because the enemy seemed invincible and they both made decisions that no one else wanted to make. and when they were on earth after fighting in heaven, in hell unleashed, Jean watched as Pieck clung to that man who looked like her and he remembered his own mother and wondered what she was doing; but the battle was not over yet and when Jean realized that his destiny was extinguished there he didn't cry. It was strange, since he joined the SC he saw people cry and scream when dying then in that innocence of youth he thought he would do the same when his time would come; Marco had cried and screamed? but here he was, standing firm, watching the woman he loved being dragged into battle, Jean saw and heard Pieck cry but all he did was look into her eyes because this was not a goodbye,he would meet Marco first and then Pieck and then Pieck would join them and maybe Jean would have to explain many things to his freckled friend, things like: he fell in love with the woman that Marco loved too.

but he didn't care, Marco could hit him and he would still be in love and happy, the three of them would be together again, and he would also meet Sasha, and Connie who expected the same fate as him. The electricity ran through his body but in his mind his last thought was Pieck and when he woke up after that dream his concern was Pieck and maybe a little the world. Because Eren, without consulting them, had left them a mission and while they watched how Armin blamed himself by becoming a slave to politics and foreign relations his left arm hugged Connie, and his eyes were on Armin and his thoughts were on Mikasa, while his right hand and his heart were with Pieck.

Because they were his family and after Eren, Jean didn't want to lose anyone else, not even Captain Levi or Falco and Gabi and although it was difficult for him to admit it, he didn't want to lose that idiot Reiner or the unfriendly Annie, because they had all been pawns in a war that they didn't start, but they had the good fortune to finish or so they hoped and surviving locked in the walls was difficult, and surviving with what was left of humanity was also difficult, so their time as ambassadors was even more difficult but they endured it. They put up with it because they were together the same thing had happened and they understood each other; and during those three years Jean met Pieck's father, and after those three years Pieck was reunited with Jean's mother. Jean and Pieck brought flowers to Marco's grave while Pieck and Jean held hands, the sun illuminated them and the daisies were blooming more beautiful than ever and they knew that he was happy for them. And their hands never parted, They spoke and forgave each other, although there was nothing to forgive.

And the sun shone again the day Pieck and Jean were married. And the daisies bloomed beautifully the day they welcomed their first child. A beautiful boy with amber eyes and black hair, a child whose name was not discussed because they knew that Marco had returned to them and this time forever.

[autisticfangpyreclub]

Don’t fear the dark, let it protect you - part two

Lloyd never paid much attention to his dragon side. But he never could have imagined how much it wanted to be heard.

-

The smell of bacon and eggs greeted Lloyd as he entered the kitchen. He sat down at the table, and Zane handed him a plate.

“Sorry, it’s a little cold,” he said with a frown, “we were going to wake you up but…”

Lloyd shrugged. “It’s alright, don’t worry about it…”

He poked at the bacon with his fork, unease gnawing at his gut. He’d never had a problem eating meat before. He ate meat all the time. But the overwhelming smell of grease and burnt flesh coming from his plate was nauseating, headache inducing even. Suppressing a gag, he pushed his plate away.

Cole looked over at him in concern. “What’s wrong, you feeling sick?”

Lloyd’s cheeks flushed. “No, just, uh…” he stuttered, “I’m just not… uh…”

“You don’t appear to have any sort of high temperature,” Zane said, placing a hand on Lloyd’s forehead, “though your face is very red… is there something wrong with your food?”

Lloyd gently pushed Zane away. “No, it’s fine, but… do we have any vegetables?”

Zane blinked and raised an eyebrow. Everyone at the table gave him similar bewildered looks. “Vegetables?” Zane asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been really craving some all morning,” Lloyd replied, getting up from his seat, “we probably have some carrots leftover from thursday right?”

“Yes, but…”

Lloyd opened the fridge. He snatched up the bag of baby carrots and started shoveling them into his mouth. Zane stared at him, mouth agape.

“Lloyd, are you sure you’re… feeling alright?” he asked as he watched Lloyd toss the empty bag aside and move on to the lettuce.

Lloyd swallowed a mouthful of lettuce and shrugged. “I dunno, I feel fine, why?”

“Because you hate vegetables!” Jay said, “did you fall out of bed and bonk your head or something?”

Lloyd finished off the head of lettuce and stuck his head back in the fridge. He sniffed for more vegetables, growling when there were none to be found. He was still hungry.

Kai placed a hand on his shoulder. “Lloyd, what’s going on-”

He snarled at him, his teeth suddenly much longer and sharper. Kai jumped and drew back in alarm. “Woah, dude!” he yelped.

Lloyd slapped a hand over his mouth. How had that slipped out? His eyes darted between Kai, who was still slowly backing away from him, and the shocked faces of his friends. He shuddered.

“I… I have to go…” he mumbled, and ran out of the kitchen, ignoring the shouts behind him.

-

He didn’t stop running until he was outside the monastery, standing on a patch of grass overlooking the cliff. Lloyd sighed, and sat down to catch his breath. He shouldn’t have trusted those oni in his dream. He shouldn’t have let his oni side take over. Now he was turning into a monster.

...a monster with an unending hunger for vegetables, which to be fair, wasn’t the worst possible scenario. It was almost kinda funny. Okay, the snarling was bad, but he could deal with that.

Speaking of hunger, the grass he was sitting on smelled pretty tasty too…

Before he could stop himself, he was down on all fours ravenously munching on the grass. He probably looked so ridiculous. He didn’t care though, all that he could think of was how sweet and delicious the grass was.

“...guys, I found him.”

Lloyd froze like a deer in headlights. He hesitantly turned to see Nya standing behind him, and almost felt like dying from embarrassment.

“Um… this isn’t what it looks like,” he said weakly.

Nya raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because it kinda looks like you're on all fours eating grass like a goat.”

Lloyd looked down at his hands. “Okay, yeah, it is what it looks like…”

He stood up and brushed himself off, as the rest of the ninja gathered around him. Cole laid a comforting hand on his back. “Hey, no matter what’s going on right now, we’re here for you y'know?”

Kai nodded and patted Lloyd on the head. “Yeah, and sorry about what happened back there, I didn’t mean to scare you bud.”

Lloyd leaned into his touch and smiled. “Thanks guys… but you shouldn’t apologize, you were right to be afraid…” he murmured.

“Aw, don’t say that!” Jay said, “we’d never be afraid of you, even if you have turned into a werebunny!”

Lloyd squinted at him. “A… what?”

“Y’know, a werebunny, like a werewolf but a bunny,” Jay explained, “that’s what happened right? You got bitten by one and now you're turning! Oh no, tomorrow’s a full moon too-”

“I’m not turning into a bunny!” Lloyd shouted, “I’m turning into an oni!”

“Since when do oni’s eat vegetables?” Nya asked, “seems weird, given their whole destroy everything thing you think they’d eat meat.”

“Herbivores can be quite destructive, even more so than carnivores actually,” Zane said.

Lloyd groaned and put his head in his hands. “I don’t wanna turn into a giant bunny… wait, why aren’t you guys more freaked out? I just told you I’m turning into an oni!”

“Why aren’t YOU more freaked out?” Jay shot back, “I thought your oni side taking over was like your greatest fear.”

“It was, but… I had a dream last night that I turned into a full oni, but I wasn’t destroying anything, or hurting anyone,” Lloyd said, his body relaxing as he remembered, “it was… peaceful.”

“Have you talked to Wu about this yet?” Cole asked.

Lloyd shook his head. “No… but I think I should, before I start eating grass again… ugh…”

-

Master Wu was deep in meditation when Lloyd crept into the room. He sat across from him, and crossed his legs. Wu didn’t acknowledge him. The room was awkwardly silent for a moment.

“...I sense something is troubling you,” Wu said.

Lloyd flinched, then cleared his throat. “Yeah… so, um… it’s kinda hard to explain…”

Wu poured a cup of tea for himself, and then one for Lloyd. “I’m listening.”

Lloyd nodded in thanks and took the cup of hot tea. Deep breath in. Master Wu is part oni too, he’ll understand. “I had a dream last night… about the oni.”

Something in Wu’s expression shifted. His grip on his cup tightened. “...what happened in this dream?”

“I turned into an oni.”

Wu gasped and narrowly avoided dropping his cup. He coughed, composing himself. “You must’ve been horribly frightened by this vision.”

Something in the way Wu was looking at him made Lloyd nervous. Like he was being interrogated. He tensed his shoulders and looked away. “Uh… actually… it wasn’t that bad.”

An uncomfortable energy settled over the room. “What?” Wu asked, a dark tone seeping into his voice.

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy but when I was an oni, when I was with the other oni I felt…” Lloyd wrapped his arms around himself and sighed, “safe… like I belonged.”

Wu stood up abruptly. He grabbed Lloyd by the arm and pulled him to his feet. “Wait, master, what-”

Lloyd’s next words got caught in his throat. Wu was glaring at him, like he had done something seriously wrong. “Lloyd, listen to me, and listen well.”

The nervous feeling Lloyd had was crawling in his gut, making his head foggy. He tried to pull away, but Wu’s grip was strong. “Master please let me go-”

“The oni are dangerous, deceitful creatures who only crave destruction, you cannot trust anything they say.”

“Master, please stop, please let me go-”

Wu ignored his pleas. “You must suppress the darkness, or it will consume you, just like it consumed your father.”

At that, something in Lloyd snapped. He growled. His nails transformed into claws, and he swiped at Wu with his free arm. He hadn’t meant to scratch him that bad, but from the pained scream Wu made he’d obviously done some damage.

Lloyd scrambled back the second Wu let go of his arm. The smell of the blood on his claws only riled him up more, his eyes narrowing and illuminating the dark room with a neon green glow. “I told you to LET ME GO, old man.”

Wu gaped at him, gingerly touching the gash on his face. “How dare you use your claws against me nephew!” he yelled.

“I am not my father,” Lloyd snarled, “I’ll never be my father, and I do not fear the darkness anymore.”

Green scales covered his arms and legs. He grit his fangs as his horns tore through his skin, this time not bothering to grow them slowly. The pain only gave him clarity.

“You say oni are dangerous and deceitful… what are you then?” Lloyd asked with a scowl.

“Excuse me?”

Lloyd rolled his eyes. “You're more oni than me, and you know it,” he said as he approached Wu, claws bared, “maybe that’s why you lie, maybe that’s why you don’t tell anyone your secrets even when it could help them.”

“What are you talking about-”

“You lied to me!” Lloyd could feel tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, but he pushed them back, “you knew embracing my oni side wouldn’t make me dangerous, but you still made me suffer!”

Wu’s face changed from anger to sorrow. “Lloyd… I’m so sorry, but you must calm yourself-”

“SHUT UP!”

Fiery tears poured down Lloyd’s cheeks. Scales had grown over his entire body, leaving him thankfully fireproof. He cried out as his limbs cracked and popped, becoming more animalistic and quadruped, until he no longer could stand on two legs. He fell to the floor with a thud.

He looked up at Wu, terror in his eyes. “This… this isn’t like what it was like before… what’s happening to me…?”

“I… I don’t know…”

Rigged spikes formed on his wrists and ankles, and along his newly formed tail. He heard a gross tearing noise as large bat-like wings burst from his back and ripped through his shirt. Lloyd’s pained cries morphed into growls. His face pushed out into a snout, the final part of his transformation before he collapsed in exhaustion.

Before he passed out, he saw Wu standing over him. Hopefully this scared him enough to make him never want to grab Lloyd like that again.

-

“Oh youngling, you poor thing…”

Lloyd opened his eyes to see a familiar face leaning over him. A gentle paw touched his cheek. “Oni…?”

The oni smiled, and stroked his hair. “My name is Theta, actually.”

Lloyd groaned. “Theta… what happened? My head feels awful…”

“You transformed into a dragon,” Theta said quietly, “but don’t be afraid, in time you will learn how to control your shapeshifting abilities.”

“But I… I attacked master Wu…”

“Oh don’t worry about that, he deserved it,” Theta scoffed, “he won’t harm you ever again, I promise.”

A calming sensation washed over Lloyd as he was cradled in Theta’s lap. “Um… sorry for the weird question, but what pronouns do you use?” he asked.

“She her dear,” she replied, hugging Lloyd close to her chest.

Lloyd sighed in content, and snuggled into her warm fur. She hummed a lullaby for him, one his father had sung to him when he was little. He felt safe.

“Rest now child… even when you awake in the physical realm, my shadow will still protect you.”

[sys128]

when did u find out that you were a furry? fellow closet-fur asking

So first, let’s go back to the latter half of 2016. Y’know, that weird time where Google+ was a thing? I was 11 at the time, starting middle school (yes, I was obviously kinda young using a Google+ account but that’s beside the point) and I was starting to shift from my elementary school behaviors, but I still had it in me. I had a huge obsession with cats back then and would show my interest in them by resharing a ton of cat images and even vaguely roleplaying as my own cats I had in my home. I was a little weird, I’ll say that, but there isn’t really too much to say from that period.

When 2017 rolled around, I think I started to wonder about what it would be like to be a furry on a few occasions but I never really cared enough to really think about it yet. I believe late 2017 was when I started to draw anthro animals, but it could be as late as mid-2018.

The following year, in 2018, the wonders about being a furry from last year were starting to be more frequent and had truly caught my attention. First, I had become a fan of a few more animals other than just cats, most notably bunnies. I also started to create furry-related art. I made a couple of characters, a wolf and a rabbit, but the old images of them from two years ago are a bit difficult to find since I had posted them on a social media platform which is now defunct. Fortunately, I do have some fairly recent art of them that I drew back in March. I even put them in the same room as myself.

The first couple of months in 2019 were mostly the same stuff, but things started to shift around mid-March 2019 when I first tried to associate myself with a Glaceon character. I actually made Glaci (quadruped Glaceon with longer fur, a hat, and a bowtie) my main character for a while until November of the same year, where I edited a Glaceon Minecraft skin to edit the tail and add clothing to it to make it feel like, well, me. What I got was Rai, I gave the character the name when I was done and it wasn’t used until I first drew Rai the following month. I also thought the skin looked pretty nice so I eventually thought it was worth making an entire character out of him eventually. I actually checked the exact second I saved the skin to my computer. (‎Saturday, ‎November ‎16, ‎2019, ‏‎12:18:38 PM)

So, I guess I have found our answer now in a sense! Right down to the second, you now know the date and time where I likely started truly referring to myself as a furry! Now ain’t that something!

Anyways, closet-fur you say? I got something to say about that as well. Now, in an oversimplified manner, I’d say the steps to me becoming a furry are like puzzle pieces, and it happened once I’ve had a sufficient amount of these pieces and when they all fit together nicely. If you want to come out as a furry eventually, you have plenty of time to get ready for it, no one is really stopping you at all. Once you’re ready, I also think it’s best to start letting people know in smaller amounts (like a friend group for instance) and let more people know when you’re feeling comfortable enough as time moves on. I’m saying this because that’s how I did it, and it worked out pretty well in the end. Again, it’s completely your choice as to if and when you want to let people know! I just wanted to say this, and I hope this helps you decide if you want to come out as a furry or not!

Thanks for asking! I hope you had a good time reading this as I did drawing the first image and typing this answer up! :>

-system128

[minimarker]

The Talllle of Glennnn and Daaaale

(and Gaiiiil and Marrrrsha)

(Note: some of the footage of the 2017 P4A was lost. This compilation was the best I could do from my memory and the footage available. If I made any mistakes or forgot any parts I apologize.) 

In the 2017 Project for Awesome the Missoula crew were hanging out the first night when Brit Garner brought a bunch of props from a local theatre. As Hank said, “Brit is here and she brought… something terrifying.” That terrifying thing was Glennnn the sheep. From one angle Glennnn looks like he smoked a bunch of weed and then killed someone. From another angle Glennnn looks like he’s very tired and knows a lot about you. From yet another angle Glennnn looks proud, like a spiritual teacher. Like a gentler Rafiki mentor. Apparently, Victoria looks at Hank like Glennnn a lot, especially when he has “ideas.” Glennnn reminds Hank of Undertale. At one point Glennnn was called the Merlin to Hank’s King Arthur. Hank quickly became so attached to Glennnn that he promised to work Glennnn into the sequel to his book.

Glennnn came to the stream with two hats: a green visor and a gold crown. When wearing the green visor, it seemed like he will do your shady taxes and launder your money for you. Or maybe play poker with his friends. Does he have a gambling problem? No, he’s just a CPA. When wearing the crown, he is King Glennnn. We will get to that later.

Soon a consensus was made on the spelling of Glennnn. Glennnn must have 4 n’s, three of which are silent. It does not matter which three are silent. Later we learned that Glennnn is pronounced “Glen” if the last three n’s are silent and “Gle-n” if one of the later n’s is the audible one. At this point chat was overtaken with sheep emojis, all from Glennnn the Sheep Father. Some chatters went overboard and were informed that Glennnn can’t have five n’s, we must keep it reasonable!

Quickly we learned more about Glennnn: he is a hollow shell full of wisdom … and MURDER. Hank claimed that NASA is hiding the fact that for years they have observed Glennnn through a powerful telescope. Someone claimed that Deadpool wishes he didn’t wear such a skin-tight suit and instead wore Glennnn’s hat… and nothing else. 

Meanwhile, the nerdfighters quickly made social media accounts for him. Glennnn The Sheep soon had an Instagram with a screenshot of the P4A stream as the profile picture. The bio read “Hi, my name is Glennnn, the last three n’s are silent. My favorite people are the Nerdfighters that are currently watching the livestream of the Project for Awesome!” A twitter account was also made for Glennnn, @GlennTheSheep. Later, when describing the discrepancy in n’s on social media, we were advised to type as many n’s as your heart tells you to find Glennnn on social media. 

Soon Matthew Gaydos joined the stream and was introduced to Glennnn. Matt found his legs “interesting” and when chat asked him how to buy the sheep Matt said “You can’t! Glennnn is a human! No, he’s not!” Hank questioned if Glennnn is 100% sheep and Matt clarified that he is 4% wood and 96% sheep. When Matt had to step away he left Glennnn in charge of the stream.

Somehow Glennnn lost his hat. Matt gave him the crown and declared him King Glennnn. King Glennnn of the Glen, Hank added. It is Glennnn’s Glen, he is not king of the forest. Daaaale is his brother, King of the Dale. And Marrrrsha, of the Marsh, is their sister. Clearly glens were named for Glennnn. As Hank said “If Glennnn can see you, you are in his Glen. You are turning into a sheep. Can you feel it?” 

Hank invented a new version of Instagram for Glennnn: Glennnnstagram. All pictures on it are of sheep and glens, except the one picture of a dale from when Glennnn visited Daaaale. Chat suggested a Glennnn theme park and Matt seemed confused about what that would entail. Hank suggested making a hat with Glennnn on it as a perk for P4A 2018 (as of the posting of this it has not been announced as a perk but Glennnn and Daaaale plushies are totally a thing!). Much of this conversation happened while Hank’s face was being painted to look like Pizza John. Hank then declared that Hank-Pizza John Green of the Glen is a subject of King Glennnn. Chat requested that someone kiss Glennnn and Matt promised that someone would at 1.4 million dollars. Hank offered to kiss Glennnn, although I am not sure if he ever did. 

Soon talk turned to a major event in Glennnn’s past. Apparently, a sheep’s hair is only shorn when he loses in battle. Glennnn’s hair is the longest in the Glen. Daaaale’s hair is slightly longer. Glennnn of the Glen is the hero of the Battle of Glen-Dale. The elves know him. Songs have been dedicated to Glennnn. It is proposed that Lin-Manuel Miranda or Al Roker should write a musical of the battle of Glen-Dale. 

Then Rodney appeared and it was confirmed that Glennnn has Rodney’s back because, of course he does. Rodney said, “the sheep is everything” and as Glennnn was passed from person to person we learned that holding Glennnn feels so right that you forget he’s there. For a time Glennnn wore the frog hat instead of his crown. We also learned that Glennnn plays the banjo just like Ed Helms and Ryan is his middle name. Maia and Valerie drew Glennnn eating corn in a timed competition.

The next day we learned that Glennnn is everyone’s baby. He belongs to the world. Unknowingly, Destin was encouraging donations by offering to write donors’ names on magnets and one was a sheep. The chat insisted that the sheep was Glennnn. Soon a donation came in from Glennnn but Destin rejected his name because he “is not a real person.” The chat declared that while other magnets were worth a certain donation amount the sheep should cost $1000 in honor of Glennnn. Ben donated $1000 and Destin insisted “but does he want the sheep?” He then offered that Ben could name the sheep whatever he wanted. When Destin wrote on the sheep he could feel how much it mattered to chat. “This is the most important thing I’m gonna write on a sheep, probably in my life.” Destin writes “Ben (Glenn)” and chat quickly corrected: Glennnn has four n’s. 

Back with the Missoula crew we learned that Glennnn is Tuna’s favorite quadruped. Since we had last seen the Missoula crew, Ashe had made a painting of Glennnn. The donations reached a milestone and Brit brought in a surprise. DAAAALE HAD ARRIVED! Daaaale bowed to Glennnn, for he was the hero of the Battle of Glen-Dale. 

“All hail Daaaale!” someone declared. “Disagree!” countered Hank. Soon it was questioned where Marrrrsha is and Brit clarified “I drive a Honda Civic, I can only do so much.” After a brief debate, it is confirmed that Daaaale has four a’s and can be pronounced as “Dale” or with a bleating sound in the middle (like a sheep). Soon the battle between Glennnn and Daaaale was sparking again, they began to tally a donation battle between the brothers. “Is the vote just a tally? I’ve made a spreadsheet!” someone said, proving how nerdy we all are. The spreadsheet was put to use as the tally was called the “popular vote” and the spreadsheet was used to count the amount donated to each sheep. Suddenly most of the Missoula crew was on Daaaale’s side. “We’re just excited by the new thing” said Caitlin (and seconded by Hank). 

The following was determined about the First Battle of Glen-Dale: 

-It took place in 1994 (Possibly 640? Possibly yesterday? It couldn’t have been yesterday!) 

-Different spellings are all accepted: Glen-Dale, Glennnndale, Glennnn-Daaaale 

-Hank’s recap of the Battle: “This is Glennnn, king of the Glen. This is Daaaale, king (queen?) of the Dale. The Dale and Glen were once one land until the Battle of Glennnndaaaale. Very sad for Gaiiiil, their mom. Their sister, Marrrrsha, inherited the Marsh that no one wanted, so it is a peaceful land.”

Now we are in the Second Battle of GlennnnDale! Accusations were thrown at the brothers and slogans were created: 

-Glennnn had cow pox and did not tell his lady-friends about it 

-A vote for Glennnn is a vote for cow pox for the entire flock 

-Tip the scale for Daaaale 

-Justice for Daaaale 

-A win for Glennnn is a fail for Daaaale

-Daaaale has kind eyes (contrasting the discussion of Glennnn’s eyes from the first day) 

-“If Daaaale fails I will wail”- Julie 

-Glennnn is such a good friend! 

-RiverDAAAALE! 

-What do we know about Daaaale? Nothing! 

-Daaaale is against Net Neutrality 

-We are feeling sheepish about Glennnn 

-Daaaale will prevail 

-Tip the scale for Daaaale 

-Glennnn and Daaaale have beef with each other 

-A vote for Daaaale is a vote for a world of snacks

The Battle paused to introduce and catch up the new guests. Brit explained everything as “Brit brings props from community theatre but they are now their own things and stories.” At this point Daaaale was wearing Shrek ears because Shrek lives in a swamp. (I’m still confused on this one since a dale is not a swamp.) The new guests were happy to jump into the Battle and insisted that cow pox gave us vaccines. As their connection to the stream went in and out it was commented that the Battle is causing wooly connections and shear brilliance of puns. I’m not sure you herd me. Chat declared the puns to be flocking awesome. 

As the Battle waged on and the donations continued to pour in Brit called for peace: “I need to take them back in the same vehicle.” Hank agreed, adding that Glennnn and Daaaale need to go sit in the same basement together. Soon donations were submitted for peace and were tallied under the joint ticket of Gaiiiil and Marrrrrsha. Unfortunately, this peace was short-lived as the debate was reignited by the question of if Glennnn or Daaaale is older. Eventually it was decided that they are twins but Glennnn is older. 

As is to be expected, Harry Potter was soon pulled into the battle. In the heat of anger Glennnn was declared a Slytherin but it was soon walked back. He is a Gryffindor. Daaaale is definitely a Hufflepuff. Both Glennnn and Daaaale love Harry Potter. The discussion of Harry Potter brought us back to Nerdfighteria and Brotherherd 2.0 was born, as were its fans the Herdfighters of Herdfighteria. Quietly Brit lamented, “Why do I feel like they are never going to be returned?”

“I’m for Daaaale, but when I look into Glennnn’s eyes I feel the need to vote for him” commented Hank. There is definitely something about Glennnn’s eyes. Ben (possibly the same Ben from before) made a big donation in Glennnn’s name. He was declared Glennnn’s SuperPAC which was soon replaced with SuperHERD (or SuperFLOCK). Since Glennnn was given larger donations than Daaaale, Glennnn was declared a puppet for Big Sheep. Soon the Second Battle of GlennnnDaaaale was ended due to the $5154 donation that did not vote for either sheep. The votes were tallied and Glennnn won the Second Battle of GlennnnDaaaale. 

As they were finishing up for the night Brit went to wash dishes and found a picture of Reed hugging a different sheep from the theatre… and also a large goat (which Brit did not bring to the stream because it was too big). 

You would think that would be the end of Glennnn and Daaaale for the evening BUT NO! They traveled to Synema Studios to visit that crew into the wee hours of the morning. Michael Aranda questioned why Glennnn gets to be the lord and savior (and wear the crown). He was then given a quick recap of the story. Soon it was discovered that Glennnn and Daaaale were in marching band together as drummers. As the stream continued the Synema crew gave Daaaale a lot more attention than Glennnn because Glennnn is a king and “Daaaale just lives in a swamp” (Note: a dale is not a swamp). At the end of their shift Michael declared that it was more of an honor to be in Daaaale’s presence than Glennnn’s and chat was offended. 

As the 2017 Project for Awesome came to a close Hank thanked Glennnn and Daaaale for their efforts. Glennnn appeared to celebrate the end of the livestream. After John and Hank said goodbye the last shot of the stream was Glennnn.

(Here’s a link to my Butfartman Lore Compliation.)

[mr-gooseyshoes]

(ASKS ARE OPEN!!! Version 1.1. The original should be referred to as ‘Version 1.0’. Full size of the regular version [3000x1000] in my Sta.sh!

Feel free to ask these guys questions! Or maybe roleplay with any of them. I have enough spare time for both! 😊

Anything with an asterisk is IRL or other matters involving the character.

‘COO’ stands for ‘country of origin’, ‘COR’ stands for ‘country of residence’.)

Info on each character, prepare for a long read.

🍰 Mr. Gooseyshoes 🎸

Full name: Yvan August Gooseyshoes (Originally nameless, then titled ‘Clumsy One’, then was eventually given his current name.)

Species: Humanoid toon

Height: 4'4 ft

Est. age: Mid-late 20s / Canonical birthday: August 31st / ‘Creation date’: Same day, 1931

COO: France 🇫🇷

COR: United States 🇺🇸

True origin*: (When I decided to play around with my Robloxian’s look, I made the limbs and torso different colors: left arm green, right arm red, torso blue, left leg white, right leg black. At the time, I couldn’t easily determine his gender, but he was undoubtedly male-presenting. This dated back between 2013 and -15, possibly making him the ‘youngest’ member.)

Beginning: Starting off in black & white comics translated from French, Yvan was a mischievous slapstick character with a lack of common sense. He had companions; his cousin Kenneth (can also be called ���Ken’ or ‘Kenny’), and a rogue clown named Barry. He was the clumsiest of all, and was (and still is!) known to swing large items around, knocking the other two over; this lead to a fight, but they made up later.

(cont.) Despite the antics and mean-spirited remarks the two made at strangers without him, Yvan mostly stuck to jokes and harmless pranks…when he’s not accidentally being hit in the face with planks and canes. There were even colored animated shorts of the three, a series which only lasted a couple of years due to budget problems; the three went their separate ways, until meeting again decades later.

📖 Ollie 🎶

Full name: Oliviero Percy Rigatoni (Originally just ‘Oliviero’)

Species: Humanoid toon

Height: 4'3 ft

Est. age: Mid-late 20s / Canonical birthday: September 18th / ‘Creation date’: Same day, 1971

COO: Italy 🇮🇹

COR: United States 🇺🇸

True origin*: (I drew a picture of a man with blue skin and reddish-pink eyes, somewhat like the current design. The only things that haven’t changed are his hair and eyes. This estimates back to 2011.)

Beginning: N/A (TFW you’re too mentally exhausted to continue writing stories about your own characters. Don’t worry, I’ll get to it!)

⛪ Doug the Dog 🎼

Full name: Douglas Noah Beagle

Species: Anthro dog toon

Height: 3'2 ft

Est. age: Early 30s / Canonical birthday: May 21st / ‘Creation date’: Same day, 1994

COO: United States 🇺🇸

COR: See ‘COO’

True origin*: (In this universe, he’s a toon; but in the real world? He’s an arts & crafts sockpuppet from my old church, hence why I gave him a cross and halo. He doesn’t have his ears, but the hair is there. I also based the sweater off his sock design, making the brown a little darker so it didn’t look weird. Est. 2004-5, making him the ‘oldest’.)

Beginning: There was a drop of Christian faith in the neighborhood. A local church had lost a lot of members over the years, the lack of interest among youth causing too many seats to go unfilled. Thanks to 3 of the churchgoers having a knack for drawing; they passed around ideas back and forth until eventually settling with Doug and his family; his father Harry, his uncle Rufus, and eventually, Roxanne in “Episode 10: Someone I Know Isn’t A Christian. What Do I Do?”. They already had their own website, and Flash animation was all the rage at the time!

(cont.) Was it easy? Not really. But Doug did have fans, even receiving letters from a few of them straight to the church nearly daily. The makers received a lot of attention across the web, the cartoon dog being loved for several different reasons; his important life lessons, his adorable appearance, his kindness, and his relatable nature. Some news: As all 3 animators started raising families of their own, the responsibility of running the series went to younger members so that the original ones could spend time with their kids. (A lot of time passed since 1994. They were 14, 15 and 16 upon starting; the 9 new members are all between 15 and 30.)

📼 Troy ⚽

Full name: Troy Nate Donaldson

Species: Cyclops-esque toon

Height: 3'10 ft

Est. age: 13 years 🔞 / Canonical birthday: December 9th / ‘Creation date’: Same day, 1979 (First televised 1985. Seems he’s been a youngin for an awfully long time…)

COO: United States 🇺🇸

COR: See ‘COO’

True origin*: (Like Ollie, he started off as a drawing; I even drew him with a tornado for a mouth once. The only differences being that I gave him longer hair up front, and a wardrobe unlike his original one.)

Beginning: Two brothers had a great idea for a show; animated figures cross into the real world via portal, walking into the backyard of a human kid named Jesse. Troy would be seen exploring elements foreign to him; such as ladybugs, soccer balls, and the grass being green. Because of time limits, Troy was never given a mouth outside of concept art, which meant not worrying about lip syncing when they had other things to do.

(cont.) Jesse taught Troy how to play 1-on-1 soccer, then taught him how to spell larger words such as ‘dictionary’ and ‘encyclopedia’. The show also had montages of Jesse chasing after the one-eyed people (including Troy), which was a running gag involving disguises and leaving messes behind. The show ended in 1990, 5 years after its first episode, as there was no more of the story to tell. To this day, he is still a child by choice.

📚 Mrs. Donaldson 🍇

Full name: Athena Jessica Donaldson

Species: Cyclops-esque toon

Height: 5'2 ft

Est. age: Mid-to-late 30s / Canonical birthday: April 15th / ‘Creation date’: December 12th, 1979 (First televised 1985.)

COO: United States 🇺🇸

COR: See ‘COO’

True origin*: (I thought of a beautiful cyclops-looking woman. Smart, too. She just popped up into my brain while drawing some art.)

Beginning: Before becoming an art teacher, Mrs. Donaldson was a guardian of her hometown (in our world, that’s like being a cop), making sure no one suffered as a result of crime. One day, she felt that Troy needed to be educated about alternate dimensions, which led her to take him to a vastly different version of America; or more specifically, a human family’s backyard in Tennessee. While the location was random, the weather was just right. Unfortunately, the portal was open for too long, a bunch of Troy and Athena’s people ran out from it with joy, then it closed behind them indefinitely. Due to the fuel inside of the portal wand being extremely hard to find in this dimension, they were gonna be stuck here for a while.

(cont.) They were not ones to panic so quickly; instead, they sought out knowledge and resources from this different Earth. She played the role of protecting these people before, and would gladly do it again. Athena did not star in as many episodes as her son did, her count being 283 out of 294. She also taught morals when not teaching the basics of art, ranging from honesty to sharing. Parents complained about her old outfit, so the brothers had to put her in what she wears now to avoid being cancelled before wrapping things up.

💷 Ken 🚬

Full name: Kenneth Joseph Cross

Species: Humanoid toon

Height: 4'3.5 ft

Est. age: Early-to-mid 20s / Canonical birthday: March 4th / ‘Creation date’: August 31st, 19??

COO: United Kingdom 🇬🇧 (Made by a Frenchman, though.)

COR: See ‘COO’ (Sometimes goes to America, but only to visit relatives.)

True origin*: (Okay, so I thought ‘Why not draw a guy with a large grin/frown?’ I sometimes pictured him in black & white stripes as well, but maybe I’ll use that kind of design for his pre-color days.)

Beginning: N/A

🎭 “Barry The Buffoon” 🔨

Full name: Fionnbharr Patrick Emmett (Originally nameless, then only titled as “The Buffoon”, then was eventually given his current name.)

Species: Humanoid toon

Height: 4'1 ft

Est. age: Mid-to-late 30s / Canonical birthday: May 6th / ‘Creation date’: August 31st, 1931

COO: Scotland (Made by a Frenchman, though. No Scottish flag emoji? Boo. ;n;)

COR: See ‘COO’

True origin*: (I was inspired from watching some cartoon shorts from the 20s and 30s, mainly B&W ones. Plus, I wanted to give this random clown a meaningful role.)

Beginning: N/A

🍮 Buford 🐕

Full name: Sir Buford of Birmingham XIV (the 14th)

Species: Quadruped dog toon

Height: 1'3 ft

Est. age: Bet. 1-5 years / Canonical birthday: September 1st / ‘Creation date’: January 29th, 2003

COO: England 🇬🇧

COR: United States 🇺🇸

True origin*: (I imagined Yvan having a talking dog who truly loved his master, making sure he was happy and healthy. I hope he actually looks like a Scottish terrier, or at least some kind of terrier breed/mix.)

Beginning: Sir Buford was one of the secondary antagonists of a show called “Canines Out Of Line", an ongoing series about bipedal dogs breaking the law, spending money carelessly, and doing things I shouldn’t mention. (equivalent rating of TV-14) Buford was a dog that gained the ability to speak by accidentally eating a dog treat, which his then-owner pulled out of a strange beaker containing unnamed chemicals. It was meant to be thrown out, but Dr. Mecha (no medical degree) wasn’t fast enough. She marvelled at how her pet (at the time) started talking like an Englishman, taking notes on his newfound vocal abilities.

(cont.) Sadly, when word spread around the neighborhood about a talking dog, the COOL blew up Dr. Mecha’s lab and tried to force Buford to join; he refused, and was held hostage. He fought them off, escaped back to his home, and came back to see the female scientist who cared for him still alive, making it a happy-ish ending. Despite that, things only got darker from there. From the start, he was determined to bring C.O.O.L. down, one way or another.

More characters coming soon?

[f-nodragonart]

Hey I drew this guy a little while ago, but his design was gifted to me. I changed it a little bit to try and match the ideas for the species I had, but I don’t think I did enough. I’ll change almost anything to make it more anatomically correct and make sense! (He needs to stay fluffeh) Here’s the lowdown:

Greater Golden dragons are insanely smart with intelligence comparable to that of humans and are one of the dominant species on the planet. They have hands which they use to their full advantage, and are one of the more artistic species. They are most well-known for their fantastic and beautiful architecture, and other dragon species who want gorgeous buildings often employ this kind of dragon. They prefer talking out problems over battle or war, but they will defend themselves if necessary. Their favorite weapon, like most dragons, is the spear (this can be changed if the shoulder/body type is incompatible). Fire breath attacks are almost never used in fights against other dragons as most have built an immunity to the flames of others. Fire is therefore saved for ceremonies or hunting.

Greater Golden Dragons will live anywhere they can, their magical fur excellent at keeping heat/cold out, making them one of the few dragons immune to ice breath as well as flame. Both male and females have throat fur and head/tail feathers, but males will always have considerably more (this is a pic of a male). Males with larger and more luxurious shiny fur are seen as more attractive and may spend several hours a day grooming themselves. These dragons originally hailed from forests, their short wings perfect for flying in dense trees and making sharp turns. However because of their large bodies it is difficult to take off from the ground, although possible. They will usually climb a tree and jump out of it to help with this problem. Their diet consists of meat and fish, the latter almost being considered a delicacy and favored by most of the species.

I did royally frick up the back feet…he’s standing on his toes for some reason, but that shouldn’t be a thing. They can climb trees, but they’re not supposed to be very good at it (just good enough to awkwardly take off from the lower branches) I also tried basing their necks off of swan necks, but I think they might be too thick for that? I dunno. I thought long necks would be good for hunting fish.

the biggest overall change I’d suggest to this structure is to make it more lemur-esque. the tool-use and general leanings towards tinkering and artistry would better match a body structure with 1) arms that have dexterous hands + shoulders w/ a full range of rotational motion (thus, collarbones), and 2) hips + spine built to hold the body upright for significant periods of time. bodies like those of lemurs or even squirrels are a good way to balance both quadrupedalism and dexterity. just keep in mind what must be accommodated for. lemurs and squirrels, for example, can’t walk quadrupedally in the same way as typical quadrupeds, nor are they at all suited for bipedal walking of any sort (tho lemurs can at least leap bipedally)

this focus on arboreal locomotion would in turn make these dragons MUCH more able climbers. it might do, then, to switch up their talents– instead of being bad climbers, they’re bad walkers/runners b/c they’re just SO GOOD at climbing

(you could also go for a more knuckle-walking chimp approach instead, but I think that would diverge too much from the original concept here, if u wanted to keep any semblance of it)

given all that, here’s what I’ve come up with

note the curve of the spine here, with the shoulders lower than the raised hips. this is a stance common to a lot of arboreal quadruped designs (sans chimps, of course), b/c this particular lifestyle leads to shorter front limbs and longer hind limbs for enhanced leaping power

you could make the hind limbs stand plantigrade when relaxed if u wish, tho a lot of quadrupeds of this sort still walk on their toes when quadruped anyways, so I don’t think it’s a stretch to allow for comfortable digitigrade standing as well. tho if u do go w/ relaxed plantigrade standing, this is more of the position u’d want

also note the length of the foot here– it’s p short when compared to quads w/ more ‘strong’ structures (cats, dogs, etc.). this foot has still gotta have the ability for plantigrade mobility (even if it is just leaping rather than walking), which is reserved for shorter feet

I changed the neck b/c arboreal critters– or any critter that needs to have a good, unobstructed view of their hands/paws when doing dexterous tasks– tend to have shorter necks. + I don’t think that a neck made for fishing is entirely necessary if these dragons may very well just use their hands or spears to catch fish. tho I did try to keep the neck a little long, and even made it curve under (rather than over as in lemur spines) to keep the feel of the original neck

however, this is one of those things that’s much more a personal aesthetic choice for me, given the information u’ve described for this species. a long, flexible neck could work just as well, if you base it more on a bird that often tucks away their long neck, such as a green heron

not that swans can’t tuck their necks, but basing the neck on a bird that keeps their neck tucked when relaxed naturally bases your dragons’ eyesight in the proper range to see their paws for dexterous tasks. tho this tucking is a lot more difficult when the ribcage isn’t as wide/open as a typical bird ribcage, but not necessarily impossible. a lemur body actually makes this a little easier, since they have collarbones to space out their shoulders, whereas ‘strong’ quads like cats and dogs don’t

either way. I personally prefer arboreal creatures w/ short necks, but long necks can work as long as they can tuck away when the creature is doing dexterous things, or leaping/flying, etc.

I made the wings a little bigger, b/c even if they’re supposed to be short, the length u had originally gave the impression these dragons could only glide for short distances, or at the most have short bursts of flight. tho I still tried to make the wings relatively small for high loading, and wide for high ratio, + a rounded tip, thus making for a wing made for maneuverability

I also lengthened the tail to aid an arboreal lifestyle + balance while leaping (or however these dragons move around)

the last main change was the scales. the white scales are represented by green in my drawing, and u can see I changed all their positions. I rly don’t understand why they were originally on some of the most flexible parts of the body (and I imagine that was part of the original design u were gifted, rather than ur choice), but that doesn’t rly work out too well 

junctions like the crease b/t the thigh/hip and shoulder/neck simply CANNOT have hardened scales in the way. even on reptiles, these areas usually either have bare skin or have veryyy small scales w/ a lot of space in-between

usually, large/hardened scales over the back of the spine would be fine b/c torso vertebrae typically don’t flex much in that direction, BUT your dragon has wings right there, which would cause a lot of movement in that area. even worse, the scales on the original are based directly between the flight feathers and body, breaking up the feather-based connections between wing and body, which could hamper flight

anyways, I moved these scales to areas where there isn’t a lot of flexibility, like the topside of the lower arm/leg, the topside of the foot, and on the tops of the fingers/toes (between the knuckles, not on top of them). these are common scaley places on many animals, even when the rest of their bodies are fluffy (think birds), b/c these scales provide protection to limbs that see a lot of potential damage from hunting/clinging. I also put a layer of scales on top of the snout b/c there’s usually not a lot of movement there, and it’s also a popular spot to put decorative scales, if u like them enough to keep them

the scales on the underside of the tail are directly influenced by the anomalure– an odd little arboreal rodent that has scales on the underside of the base of their tail to help w/ clinging

I think it’s a nice way to incorporate more of those scales into the design while retrofitting them for a distinctive purpose. if u don’t like them, I still suggest making at least part of the underside of the tail bare to help w/ clinging

I also thought the yellow neck scales were odd– I just don’t rly get them. if the rest of the critter is furry (including the face), I don’t see why the neck would be covered in scales. thus, fluffy neck

hope this helps!

-Mod Spiral

[pamphletstoinspire]

THE PROPHECY OF Habacuc or Habakkuk - From The Latin Vulgate Bible

Chapter 1

INTRODUCTION.

Habacuc was a native of Bezocher, and prophesied in Juda some time before the invasion of the Chaldeans, which he foretold. He lived to see this prophecy fulfilled, and for many years after, according to the general opinion, which supposes him to be the same that was brought by the angel to Daniel, in Babylon, Daniel xvi. (Challoner) --- He might very well live to see the captives return, as only sixty-six years elapsed from the first of Joakim, when he began to prophesy, till that event. He retired at the approach of the Chaldeans, and afterwards employed himself in agricultural pursuits. (Calmet) --- The sins of Juda, the coming of the Chaldeans, and the relaxation of the captivity are specified; and in the canticle, the appearance of Christ, the last judgment and eternity, (Worthington) are mentioned in the most sublime style. (Haydock)

Chapter 1

The prophet complains of the wickedness of the people; God reveals to him the vengeance he is going to take of them by the Chaldeans.

1 The burden that Habacuc, the prophet, saw.

Notes & Commentary:

Ver. 1. Burden. Such prophecies more especially are called burdens, as threaten grievous evils and punishments. (Challoner) --- He says not against whom, because the menace is directed to persecutors in general. (Worthington)

2 How long, O Lord, shall I cry, and thou wilt not hear? shall I cry out to thee, suffering violence, and thou wilt not save?

Ver. 2. Save. Some think that he expresses the sentiments of the weak, like David, (Psalms lxxii. 2.) or what he had formerly entertained. The language of the prophets is very bold, Exodus xxxii. 32., Job iii. 3., Jeremias xx. 14., and Jonas iv. 8. (Calmet)

3 Why hast thou shewn me iniquity and grievance, to see rapine and injustice before me? and there is a judgment, but opposition is more powerful.

Ver. 3. Opposition. Septuagint, "the judge receives" bribes. (Haydock) --- Such was the state of Juda after Josias, Jeremias xxi. 12.

4 Therefore the law is torn in pieces, and judgment cometh not to the end: because the wicked prevaileth against the just, therefore wrong judgment goeth forth.

Ver. 4. No explanation given.

5 Behold ye among the nations, and see: wonder, and be astonished: for a work is done in your days, which no man will believe when it shall be told.

Ver. 5. Among. Septuagint ye despisers. St. Paul nearly agrees with this version, Acts xiii. 41. The copies vary, as the Hebrew has done. (Calmet) --- The apostle gives the mystical sense; the literal is very obscure. (Worthington) --- God answers the prophet's complaints, and shews that the Chaldeans shall punish the guilty, and afterwards be themselves chastised.

6 For behold, I will raise up the Chaldeans, a bitter and swift nation, marching upon the breadth of the earth, to possess the dwelling places that are not their own.

Ver. 6. Chaldeans. Nabuchodonosor was the first of this nation who attacked Joakim, and having conquered all as far as the Nile, returned to succeed Nabopolassar. He afterwards came upon Jechonias and Sedecias, &c. The prophet might have all this in view, particularly the first invasion. (Calmet) --- Bitter; warlike, as all the Greek historians remark. (St. Jerome) --- The Chaldeans were not yet arrived at such greatness, and of course this is not the Habacuc specified [in] Daniel xiv. (Worthington) --- Yet the same prophet might foresee it. (Haydock)

7 They are dreadful and terrible: from themselves shall their judgment, and their burden proceed.

Ver. 7. Proceed. They admit no authority but their own. (Calmet) --- This pride will prove their ruin. (Haydock)

8 Their horses are lighter than leopards, and swifter than evening wolves: and their horsemen shall be spread abroad: for their horsemen shall come from afar, they shall fly as an eagle that maketh haste to eat.

Ver. 8. Leopards: the swiftest quadrupeds. (Calmet) --- The horses near the Euphrates were swift and warlike. (Oppian.) --- Swifter. Hebrew, "sharper" (Haydock) in seeing, even when there is no moon. (Elian x. 26.) --- Evening. Septuagint, "Arabian." (Haydock) --- It may denote the hyena of that country, which is most terrible. (Guevar.)

9 They shall all come to the prey, their face is like a burning wind: and they shall gather together captives as the sand.

Ver. 9. Burning. Hebrew also, "eastern," which is hot, and raises the sand of Arabia so as to be very detrimental. (Calmet) --- Out of 2,000 travellers from Mecca to Aleppo, only twenty-nine escaped such a storm, or kamsin, in that vast desert, August 23, 1813. (Rock. 312.) (Haydock) --- Sand, from various countries, Isaias xx. 4. (Beros. cited [by Josephus,] contra Apion i.)

10 And their prince shall triumph over kings, and princes shall be his laughingstock: and he shall laugh at every strong hold, and shall cast up a mount, and shall take it.

Ver. 10. Prince, or "it," the nation, ver. 10. Hebrew, "They," &c. --- Laughingstock, (ridicule.) Nabuchodonosor raised or deposed princes as in jest. (Haydock) --- Sennacherib's officers were or had been kings, Isaias x. 8. --- Mount. Thus cities were chiefly taken, Ezechiel iv. 1. (Calmet)

11 Then shall his spirit be changed, and he shall pass, and fall: this is his strength of his god.

Ver. 11. Spirit; viz., the spirit of the king of Babylon. It alludes to the judgment of God upon Nabuchodonosor, recorded [in] Daniel iv., and to the speedy fall of the Chaldean empire. (Challoner) --- It shall yield to the Medes, &c., after conquering the Assyrians. (Worthington) --- Fall. Hebrew, "sin." Septuagint, "obtain pardon." --- God: "idol," Chaldean. "This is the strength of my God," Septuagint. God forced the proud king to confess that his great exploits were not to be attributed to himself or to idols. (Haydock)

12 Wast thou not from the beginning, O Lord, my God, my holy one, and we shall not die? Lord, thou hast appointed him for judgment: and made him strong for correction.

Ver. 12. Die? We hope that this scourge will not entirely ruin us. --- Correction, like Pharao, Exodus ix. 16.

13 Thy eyes are too pure to behold evil, and thou canst not look on iniquity. Why lookest thou upon them that do unjust things, and holdest thy peace when the wicked devoureth the man that is more just than himself?

Ver. 13. Look, with approbation (Calmet) or connivance.

14 And thou wilt make men as the fishes of the sea, and as the creeping things that have no ruler.

Ver. 14. Ruler. People are subdued by Nabuchodouosor. (Haydock) --- They make little resistance. (Calmet)

15 He lifted up all them with his hook, he drew them in his drag, and gathered them into his net: for this he will be glad and rejoice.

Ver. 15. No explanation given.

16 Therefore will he offer victims to his drag, and he will sacrifice to his net: because through them his portion is made fat, and his meat dainty.

Ver. 16. Drag, adoring his own arms and prowess, (Sanct.) like Mezentius and Capaneus:

------ Dextra mihi Deus, (Virgil, Æneid x.)

Te voco, te solum, superum contemptor, adoro. (Stat. x.)

--- Guevare thinks fishes were adored, as they were among the Syrians. Nabuchodonosor attributed all to his own genius, or to Bel, whose statue he set up, Daniel iii. (Calmet) --- Victorious nations thus honour themselves and not God.

17 For this cause, therefore, he spreadeth his net, and will not spare continually to slay the nations.

Ver. 17. Nations, of every country. (Worthington) --- Few have been so much addicted to war as Nabuchodonosor. (Calmet)

[inkuisitivskins]

LivMiles werewolf AU. 👀

1) Give me a pairing.

2) Give me an AU setting.

3) I will write you a three-sentence fic. OOPS LOL

Under a read more because.. this was kind of a long drabble I’m sorry :’) I’ve just been wanting to write an AU like this for quite a while

Warning for slight blood and body horror

He had noticed her growing more distant during the last few weeks. Distant, and moody. 

Many of her soldiers would joke about the monthly cause of her heightened aggression, though Miles knew otherwise. He also couldn’t help but notice how it happened on every full moon, and when he would politely question her about it, she would always avoid the question– which was unlike her. He had noted how she was always able to tell him anything, save for the reasons behind her hostility every night leading up to, and the eventual leave she took from the fort, the night a full moon rose into the sky. 

Miles was never a man to jump to conclusions, but he would admit to himself that he was growing increasingly worried. Every episode of hers would grow more vicious until this last time, where her absence from the fort had last longer than a single night. Frankly, her leaving the fort without informing him, her adjutant, her personal assistant, and her best friend, worried him– but an unexplained extended leave terrified him to the core. What if something happened?

She had assured him one of the earlier times that her absence was merely a nightly walk, and she did not leave the confines of the area surrounded by the fort, on the Amestrian side of the border, of course. She never “took a walk” in the no-man’s-land between Briggs and the Drachman border, yet Miles still grew increasingly nervous. Even in Amestris where there were no human enemies, the snowy mountain range around Briggs was still inhospitable; being inhabited by dangerous wildlife and even more dangerous, unpredictable weather. 

Sure, the werewolf myth had crossed his thoughts, and wolf chimeras were absolutely a real thing, but he paid no mind to it. If his general had been a chimera, he would like to believe that she would have told him, since the existence of chimeras was tied directly to the military and experiments it had done. Come to think of it, if she was, she most likely wouldn’t have kept it any sort of secret, since the fort was of military purpose, after all.

Still, he found himself quietly making his way down the elevator of Briggs, almost precisely at midnight, when the fort was still, except for the few nightly workers and soldiers who were given the graveyard shift. He didn’t know why he held an unlit lantern in his grasp�� he had been tossing the idea around for quite a while, but he supposed he was finally, actually, going to go out looking for her. An absence of two days was far too long for comfort. 

He made sure the fur on his coat was snugly against the back of his neck to keep out any cold as he lit the lantern, exiting the iron walls of Fort Briggs. The night was dark, but the full moon cast an eerie light that reflected off the snow and caused it to look blue rather than white. He lifted the lantern and started walking– in what direction, he was not even sure. He just had to find her. 

Not much time had passed when he happened upon an unusually large footprint in the snow. Normally, he paid no attention to the animal tracks that would litter the snow once one drew far enough away from the fort to find wildlife, but this was even larger than a bear’s. Twice as large, actually. 

Miles didn’t notice himself staring in dumbfounded awe down at the huge print, until he heard a deer cry out nearby. His red eyes snapped up in the direction of the noise, and he immediately hurried over. One again, he didn’t know why. Maybe it was because he loved animals, and if one was hurt, he may try to help. 

Maybe it was because something in the back of his mind knew what was going on. 

He topped a snowy hill, freezing in his footsteps when he saw it. A deer carcass sat in the snow, freshly killed, by what large, looming mass of fur hunkered over it. Its long, white fur stood out against the seemingly blue snow as it tore into its kill, too distracted to notice him.

Why, was unbeknownst to him, but he spoke out, “Hey!”

Immediately couldn’t even begin to describe how quickly the canine head swerved to stare at him. Its maw was bloodied, and its eyes seemed void of pupils in the way they reflected the light of Miles’s lantern. His heart stopped instantaneously, terrified. 

It lunged at him, knocking him onto his back with its long limbs– thankfully, the impact was soft due to the snow. The figure, however, pinned him, breathing heavily and snarling as its eyes remained locked on his, the iron stench of blood strong on on it as it clung to its fur. Heat seemed to be radiating angrily and dangerously off its large body, and Miles could only stare up at it in sheer horror. 

It was this moment, though, when it knocked the lantern from his hands, and he could fully see the color of its eyes. It’s pupils were visible slits now, but the irises were a bright, icy blue, that seemed to be glowing in the darkness of the night. There was only one living thing he knew that had eyes like that. 

“Olivier?” He breathed, chest heaving. Teeth still bared, the wolf sat up ever so slightly, its small ears pricking forward as he spoke. He watched in silence as its pupils widened and shrunk as it focused its sights on him, obviously in deep thought. It still seemed confused, so it bent down, frighteningly close to his face, and touched its nose gently to his cheek, sniffing deeply– the deep noise of its breathing loud in the major’s ear. 

In one motion, it straightened and leapt off of him, its heavy feet strangely quick in the snow as it fled. 

“W-wait, please!” The Ishvalan scrambled to his feet, losing his footing on the snow several times as he grabbed his lantern and hurried to pursue the creature. He caught a glimpse of it running along the treeline, noticing the moonlight on it– the light catching its white fur, seemingly reflecting off a golden hue. 

Thankfully, the snow was deep here, so it was not difficult for him to follow its tracks. Eventually, he came upon a clearing that was surrounded by snow-laden trees, where the footsteps seemed to stop due to the light snow that was now beginning to fall. 

“General?” He raised his voice, looking around. “Please, I want to help you! I’ve been so worried! I-I…” He continued, quieting down. In truth, he was always so protective of her because she was the person he loved most in this whole world. Not only had they slowly gained each other’s trust through their work, but they eventually became best friends, and around that time, Miles finally had the guts to admit to himself that he’d fallen in love with her.

And, in all honesty, if this was Olivier, this changed nothing. It was still her same soul, albeit clouded with a primal need to hunt, and he would give his life to keep her safe.

Heavy steps crunching in the snow behind him caused him to swing around, the force of which sent his lantern flying, since he didn’t have a good enough grip on it with his military-issue gloves. The beast was stalking him, its large paws seemingly moving in slow motion as it crouched. Even with knees bent, its height was that of a normal-sized bear. 

“Olivier,” Miles said again, his voice breaking slightly. He loved her, but he didn’t want it to end like this for him. He had grown up being told folktales by his mother, and one of the ones that stuck with him most to this day was the one about werewolves, where, when under transformation, they had no conscious control over any of their actions. He knew it wouldn’t be her fault, but he also knew that he had made a promise to himself long ago that he wouldn’t die before he told her that he loved her. 

“Please…”

It gained on him, still slowly, until it sank down into the snow, ready to lunge again. 

“Olivier, I love you…”

Instantly, it lifted its head, pupils dilating to circles. It yelped suddenly, the shrill noise not matching the large and powerful body, as it stumbled forward. It lost footing in the snow, tripping onto its stomach, yet already too weak to pick itself up again. Contorting in sharp pain, the beast seemingly began to shrink as the fur retreated into the skin. In a strangely human way, it hid its face in its large paws, its pointed muzzle still peering out between the paw pads, as the whole body lost fur and began to grow more human features once again. Bones were heard cracking as the spine realigned and the pelvis opened to also take on the shape of a person’s rather than that of a quadruped mammal; arm bones shortening from the length they were as not a pure wolf’s, but a monster’s. Blonde hair that matched the gold of the fur soon took over on the head as the canine snout disappeared. Soon, all that remained was the motionless figure of a woman, quickly being consumed by snow. 

Though he was in utter horror from what just transpired before his eyes, Miles shakily stood, urging his body to move despite the shock it was experiencing. Completely ignoring his lantern, he immediately undid the buttons on his coat and hurried to his superior, shedding it quickly. She was limp, so it was difficult, but he managed to prop her up enough to wrap his coat around her, swiftly lifting her bridal style, making sure all of her bare skin was covered by the heavy fabric. 

“Olivier?” He asked, panting due to the shock that remained, his breath leaving him as puffs of smoke in the cold air. He moved a hand to rest two fingers on the side of her neck, sensing a weak pulse– yet a pulse nonetheless. 

At his touch, her eyes fluttered, opening weakly. Though it was obvious how weak she was, his face immediately brightened at her sign of life. 

“I’m sorry,” were the first words that left her, her voice scratchy and soft.

“No, don’t,” Miles replied quickly, bending down to retrieve the lantern. She wasn’t very heavy, and he was rather strong, so he had no trouble carrying her. “Just please be okay…”

“I’ll be fine,” she rasped what sounded like a chuckle as the corners of her lips lifted into a weak smile. “Happens all the time. It’s always painful like this…”

“I’m sorry,” her adjutant responded, walking as quickly as he feet could carry him without fully breaking into a run. He smiled down at her gently, understandingly, “I just wish you told me.”

She shrugged gently, voice still faint, “Lycanthropy… runs in the family. Skips some members sometimes, though…”

“No shit?” Miles breathed, flashing her a small smile, just glad that she was making coherent conversation. He wanted to keep it up so that she didn’t slip back out of consciousness.

“Passed down the Armstrong line for generations,” she sighed shakily, to which he laughed softly. What he wasn’t expecting was the ginger, feather-light touch of her fingertips against his dark cheek, which drew his attention down to her and caused him to have somewhat of a surprised look on his face. 

She gave him the fondest smile she could possibly muster in the state she was currently in, “I love you too.”

—

I drew like all of the inspiration from this from that one post going around a bit ago about how in some legends, werewolves could be transformed back by confessing to them or throwing clothes on them or something like that? Even if that isn’t right and my memory’s failing me, that’s how it works in this AU HAHA

Anyway yeah, I already apologized but this drabble was so long x’D I’ve just been wanting to do a supernatural AU like this with them for a while so I was SO happy when you asked this haha. Either way, thank you so much, Katie!! I’ll be posting this in my Livmiles drabbles collection on ao3 if that’s cool!

ALSO I based the werewolf off the Wolf Beasts seen in Bloodborne. Basically wolves with long creepy limbs

Thank you so much!

[cottoncandylesbo]

here’s pearlmethyst

there’s not much fluff but it’s there. i tried to make it not just a generic “they kissed and hugged because they’re pure uwu” fic im gonna put a readmore because its really really long 

Amethyst walked through the entrance of the Crystal Gems’ wooden house. Ramshackle as it was, she felt comfortable and safe within its warm walls. She smiled to herself as she looked to her left at the coffee table in front of the couch, still messy with scattered board game pieces from game nights that got a little too heated. She continued to the circular room that held the warp pad, where she would have walked past if Pearl had not returned to the house using the warp at that very moment.  “Hey, P!” Amethyst greeted her, surprised at her unexpected but welcomed return. “Oh, hello Amethyst!” Pearl returned. She tucked the crystalline globe that was in her hands under her armpit. “What’s that?” Amethyst questioned, cocking her head to get a better view of the shiny object. “Were you just on a mission?” “Oh, this is an artifact I’d been meaning to retrieve for a while now. It was causing problems for some humans in another town so I thought I might as well…” She trailed off, eyes drifting off in memory of the task she had completed. “Whoa! What does it do?” Amethyst asked, drawing closer to the orb and staring at its multicolored reflective surface. “Ah- well- it’s dangerous, so I’d rather get it bubbled quickly before anything-” but she was cut off when Amethyst grabbed it from her lazed grasp. “It’s so pretty, Pearl! Is there a gem in here?” She continued to stare at its surface as she shook it roughly and listened for any sound. “Amethyst, no! Please be gentle with it, it’s powerful and unstable! I don’t really know what it can do!” She reached her hands out but kept them a small distance back, nervous to touch the rainbow sphere. “Alright, sorry P.” Amethyst said, snapping out of her distracted staring. “I don’t wanna make you worried. Here, you can have it back.” She held out the artifact to Pearl and looked toward the floor. “Oh, thank you Amethyst.” Pearl reached out to grab hold of the orb, but when she laid hands on it, it began to emit a faint but steadily brightening glow. Soon, it rose out of either of the gems’ hands into the air, and began to take form. Bright white appendages grew from all sides of the glowing sphere, glowing brightly. As time progressed, the limbs took shape as hands, legs, and even a beak. The creature that was forming itself from the strange object was rapidly gaining shape and soon stopped glowing as it landed on the wooden floor of the temple with a loud THUD. Now that it was no longer in a light form, its appearance was much more visible. It was a large and furry quadruped with two long and muscular arms extending from where the beak was also placed. However, there was no body mass connecting the creature’s head to its rear- instead, the large orb held it together. The creature’s legs were large, bulky, and ended each with clawed paws. Its whole body was many different shifting pastel colors which became more gray further down its legs until its feet were wholly black. The creature’s head was totally covered in shaggy and matted fur, so much so that no eyes were visible, but the arms that protruded from either side of the monster’s huge seagull-esq beak were not restricted by the heavy fur.  The newly formed beast stretched its appendages and shook its fur. Then, noticing Amethyst and Pearl standing in front of it, it took a step back. Then two, three, slowly backing itself deeper into the warp pad room until it was just in front of the gem rooms’ door. Simultaneously realizing both that it was out of room and that Pearl was the same gem to dispel it before, it took a more defensive stance. It spread its legs out and huffed its chest, growling deep and loud.  “Pearl, what IS that thing?! A gem?” Amethyst asked, drawing two thorny whips from the now glowing gem in her chest.  “I… I don’t know!” Pearl stammered. “It didn’t look like that when I defeated it last time!”  “Augh, this is all my fault!” Amethyst half-shouted, tightening her grasp on her whips. “This doesn’t matter right now!” Pearl said, also drawing her weapon, a spear, from her gem located on her forehead. “We just need to focus on getting rid of this… thing before Steven gets hurt!” “Yeah. Okay! Let’s do this!” Amethyst yelled, rolling herself into a ball and preparing a charge attack onto the creature. Both gems sprang into action. Pearl used the blunt end of her spear to bat Amethyst, now rolling at high speeds, at the creature. However, it caught Amethyst mid-attack with both of its beefy arms, absorbing the strength and blunt of the charge. It then slammed Amethyst into the floor, making a sizable dent in the stone floor.  “Amethyst!” Pearl yelled, then rushed the monster. She drew another spear and attempted a cross slash, jumping into the air and trying to hit from above. The beast also caught her attack with its beak, slamming Pearl on top of Amethyst. “AUGH!” Amethyst grunted, being pushed back onto the floor from the impact. “Ugh… Amethyst, are you ok?” Pearl worried, looking down on Amethyst. “Yeah I’ll be fine, but- WATCH OUT!” She yelled, noticing the beast about to punch both of the gems. She quickly drew her whip, and along with Pearl also drawing her spear, she wrapped the whip around it and drew it back, and then powerfully launched the weapon into the beast’s open beak.  Feeling the impact of the attack, the creature halted its attack and unleashed a feral scream. It attempted to cough the spear back out of its mouth, but it was thoroughly stuck. “This is our chance!” Pearl turned to Amethyst, gripping her hands into fists. “Let’s fuse and get rid of this thing once and for all!” “Yeah! Let’s do this!” Amethyst smiled wide and held Pearl’s hand. Pearl then grabbed hold of Amethyst’s other hand and dipped her close to the floor, the both of their forms now glowing bright white and morphing together. Then, the white mass took shape as Opal stood. “It’s been far too long. You both know that.” Opal remarked to herself, summoning both Amethyst’s whip and Pearl’s spear and shaping them together into an elegant longbow.  “Now it’s time to take care of this mess.” She said, drawing the bow’s string and aiming it at the creature which was striking the floor with one of its back feet. As it started to charge at Opal, she squinted in one eye and launched the glimmering arrow straight through the open mouth of the beast. It pierced the front end of the monster and struck the gem in its middle, causing a very bright flash of light. Then, the monster’s form froze and shook. Opal still held onto her bow, the creature’s body disappeared in a puff of white smoke. The rainbow sphere fell onto the floor with a loud clunk.  Opal smiled, dispelled the bow, and then released herself back into Amethyst and Pearl. The two walked up to the orb, then bubbled it together. They then sent it deep into the temple and looked at each other. “We make a good team, huh P?” Amethyst sighed, turning to look at Pearl. “Yes. We really should spend more time together.” She chucked, and returned Amethyst’s gaze. She blushed. “I… I’m really glad I have you. I love you, Pearl.” Amethyst looked at the floor and rubbed her arm. Her face was dark with flush. “Amethyst…!” Pearl was surprised of Amethyst’s choice of words. Her eyes widened. Amethyst said nothing and continued to look at the floor. Her stomach was twisting into knots and her face felt ablaze. “I.. Oh, come here!” Pearl said, and drew her into a passionate kiss. Amethyst was shocked at first, but relaxed and put her hands on pearl’s hips and returned. They embraced and felt each other’s warmth as they finished their kiss but held on to each other. Neither could speak- there were no words to express the pure bliss of finally being able to express their pent-up love.  Finally, they each took a step back and grinned sheepishly. “Let’s hope Steven won’t mind seeing Opal around some more, huh?” Amethyst chuckled.  “Oh, what ever.” Pearl laughed. “I love you too, Amethyst.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Thank you for reading. I know it’s long but I didn’t wanna skim over the fight scene. If you liked it, feel free to reblog and share! If this is popular I might write more :o

[skyephilosopher]

Please?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Archive of Our Own ___________________ Donnie let out something like a gasp as his arm gave out. He scrabbled frantically with the other, the jolt of terror granting him the will to fling his weak limb back up and haul himself to the roof.

This was the second time it had done this. The first time, he had cracked his skull on the concrete floor. The impact had knocked the breath from his lungs and rendered him utterly dazed and likely even duller. He completely relied on his family to lead him. With an inward chuckle, Donnie thought it must be like taking his animal self home all over again.

And, then, Donnie flinched. Why would he laugh at that?

God, he was out of it.

“—okay?”

Donnie cast his gaze to April, tipping his head left. Only able to guess what she had said, Donnie nodded. Though, he supposed, with their increased frowns, it may have just seemed like he had about drifted off.

Great.

Before he fell victim to the growing haze, Donnie forced himself to stand and shake. A particular wound on his shoulder twinged distinctively among the typical stinging, and he bit back a yelp. Instead, he winced and began desperately trying to crane his head back to ease the laceration.    

“He’s… obviously fine,” Mikey said, looking up at him.

“I am fine,” he attempted, but all that resulted was an inarticulate growl. Donnie flinched, blinked rapidly, and shook his head, turning away from them.  

Raph’s touch was gentle against his bicep. “Over there. Straight across,” he murmured, holding out his arm. Donnie stiffened, shortly looking at him with eyes haunted by gloom. “It’s fine, Donnie. Hurry up.”

He swallowed thickly and limped forward before Raph could register the hurt that must’ve flashed in his eyes. He tottered on the edge of the roof for a moment before practically falling into the alley.

He hissed under his breath, not bothering to pick himself up. That had really upset his wounds and the abrasions forming on his… palms? He turned his hand. There were delicate areas that stuck above the thin scales that perhaps looked like the pads of a typical quadruped. Donnie didn’t really know how to refer to the terminal part of his limb. It wasn’t quite prehensile, but it also didn’t resemble a typical paw too much...

Ugh. All that sophisticated thinking was making his brain hurt. He’d ponder again when he had slept and had energy to spare.

Donnie never thought there’d be a day that he’d have to admit such a dreadful notion.

He squeezed his eyes shut momentarily before inclining his head in time to see his brothers and April leap across the gap nimbly.

It wasn’t fair. Donnie drew his lip back. He should be—deserved to be— up there with them, not trapped in an alley and, even worse, the body of a blundering monster. His claws unsheathed and scraped the concrete, and he didn’t even bother trying to stop them.

But most his anger melted away when April appeared. As Donnie laboriously stood, she said, “Across again. You’ll be down there for a little bit. We’re trying to figure the way with the less risk.” When Donnie’s brows furrowed, she added, “The other alley has more room.” He couldn’t oppose the idea of more space, so he hoisted himself up to join them— Leo, Raph, Mikey, and April. Casey had to go home “if he wanted to come back.” The statement was oddly familiar. He disregarded it for now and hurried with his limp to the designated alley.

Once he reached the edge, he tried to slip down with much more grace. Already, the alley had plenty more room. He settled with a quiet sigh.

Then, his attention was drawn to scuffling in the far corner. Among the shadows, Donnie distinguished a large gray-black rat. It was an ordinary sight in New York City, and Donnie couldn't understand why he was so transfixed. It was just an average rat.

But, then, his mouth dared water at the sight. It was pretty big, even for the standard rat. And… it seemed to not mind his presence. It would be easy to--         

No!

Donnie flinched and crouched, trembling. What was wrong with him? His father was a rat on some level and god this just further proved he was nothing more than an animal.

Despite his fierce efforts, his gaze fell again on the creature. The poor thing. Why hadn't it scurried away yet? Surely his sharp movements had startled it. But, then again, urban rats were bold. He inched toward it.

He observed silently as it nosed around a lone trash bag. Its complete attention was set on finding some source of sustenance.

Donnie quieted his breaths, and his drowsiness was swept away as he slowly advanced a few more steps.

It would be quick. He could pounce and dispatch it by snapping its vertebrate before it could squeak or even comprehend what had happened. His sheer abrupt weight would do it for him.

He slithered forward and stilled his flicking tail.

They hadn't been feeding him enough either. Donnie didn't fault them. They had no way to know. But the food they presented was old and cold and far from fresh. This would be delightfully warm and savory and would sing on his tongue. A sudden change in the wind brought the creature's scent straight toward him, allowing Donnie to even better inhale the delectable aroma—

Something in Donnie snapped, and, before he could register what exactly was occurring, the rat’s squeal was cut off abruptly, and it lay there under his remaining talons, its back horribly distorted in an arch with two vertebrae distinctly protruding unnaturally from its flesh.

As Donnie stared down at it, the full reality slammed into him.

No no no no no no no—

He withdrew swiftly, his steps unsteady. His mind was swamped with remorse and revulsion and raw guilt and horror.

He could only just swallow a howl. If he did, then they would know for sure something had happened and they could not know about this—

“Donnie?”

He whipped around, hastily backing toward the body and concealing it with his tail. He fought to keep himself from trembling as he stared up at Leo.

His big brother frowned. “Are you okay?”

Donnie nodded promptly, though he regretted the intensity with which he had done so when his head throbbed.

“Okay?” Concern now gleamed in his eyes. “Uh, not much longer now.” He tilted his head. “I thought I heard a weird noise. Are you sure you're okay?”

Donnie again nodded, trying to keep his desperation out of the gesture.

“Okay…” Leo's eyes narrowed before he vanished.

Donnie let out a hoarse, shaky exhale, turning back to the rat.

What was he going to do with it? Could he really just leave it here to rot?

No, he told himself, some other animal will come by and eat it.

But...was leaving it the right thing? The best thing? Best, as in the noblest manner with which to deal with the situation? It just didn't feel right to leave it untouched. If he ate it, he could paste a proper reason for it to have given its life, and it would clear his conscious on some level.

Donnie, him, himself, not the animal, still despised the very notion. Despite it, he took one look around before bowing his head.

Self-loathing and disgust churned in his stomach. Are you happy? he thought, directed at the horrible beast that continued to rule him.

Donnie hated to admit it, but the flesh was so ambrosial and delicious and good. The idea made him feel horrible and resulted in the negative feelings clutching his body intensifying.

And, at some point within the mess of hatred, Donnie had finished the rat. It had taken two bites.

It was like a heavy stone in his stomach that weighed him down. Despite the heaven his taste buds stubbornly persisted in, it all made him feel sick, and the earth swayed beneath him.

He just killed and ate a rat.

He killed it with his own deformed ha-paws. Paws. He was an animal. He didn't deserve such an advanced title. Not in the least.

Donnie didn't think he could ever look Splinter in the eye again. He bared his teeth.

It's not like he ever pays me any attention anyway. In the inferno of self-hatred, a flame of bitterness sparked.

As far as he was concerned, Donnie was just a walking, breathing disappointment. He probably felt even more disdain now since Donnie was dumb enough to go get himself turned into a monster. He couldn't remember the last time his father even personally spoke to just him or looked at him with something close to sincere affection.

Did Splinter even care?

Donnie shook himself fiercely. He needed back up there with his family. Much longer down in the alley and Donnie would snap again.

 When Donnie pulled himself up, Mikey took immediate notice of the sharp, almost tangible pulses of unhappiness he emanated. As they began to walk further, he observed as Donnie frequently paused as his body was taken over by some strong emotion. He would tense, agony flaring in otherwise drained eyes, and take a deep breath before pushing onward.

Mikey, at last, dropped back to match his brother's pace. He listed and gently brushed his arm with his own. “Hey,” he murmured, “you're hurting, aren't you?” Alarm, sudden and bright, flashed in Donnie's eyes, and he vigorously swung his head before wincing.

Mikey bit back a sigh. What was so horrible about admitting you were in pain when you were very clearly hurt? Why was pride so important?  

He reached out and gently swatted his arm. Dummy, he thought affectionately. Donnie flinched and directed himself a bit away. The anguish that had planted itself in his eyes seemed to go a bit deeper than physical…

And, then, Mikey could have hit himself. Of course! Of course… Donnie had every right to be upset. He had lost his mind for a good two weeks and, as far as he could assume, behaved like an absolute animal. Then, they failed to get some precious substance that would grant him his normal self.

Mikey frowned and shot Donnie an apologetic glance. The least he could do was keep pace and walk with his brother, unlike the others. He again went to brush his arm. “I’m sorry,” Mikey whispered.

Donnie halted, slowly raising his formerly bowed head. After a second, his lip turned upward in a small, frail, half-hearted smile. He took one step toward Mikey, inhaled deeply, and went to press his nose to his shoulder.

But, then, he jerked himself back, the grief in his eyes renewing with more intensity than ever. His face contorted in a grimace, and he ducked his head and shook himself. He avoided Mikey's outstretched hand and prepared to hobble after the others, who had paused at the edge of the roof, observing silently.

“Donnie— Donnie, wait.” Mikey hurried after him, struggling to keep up—despite his limp, his long limbs and determination to escape him kept him ahead. Mikey shot his family a face of exasperation before he put his one last surge of energy into lunging forward and clutching his brother's arm. Only then did he stop, turning his head to give Mikey a dull, sullen look.

“Donnie, it's fine. It's okay.” Mikey tightened his grip, and Donnie's tensed muscles seemed to relax a bit.

“It's okay, as long as you… you're…” He paused, searching for the right words. “It's fine,” he started again, “as long as you're still Donnie.”

For some reason, Donnie melted at that, letting out a series of soft, short exhales that could be taken as a kind of laughter. When he raised his head, fresh warmth overpowered everything in his eyes and made them glow. Now that they weren't brimming with strong evidence of his lack of rule, Mikey thought they were brilliant— a startling baby blue, riddled with veins of every other shade of blue imaginable, a flare of the lightest azure surrounding his almond-shaped pupils that were presently narrowed in affection. At last, he allowed himself to fondle his little brother.

Then he limped away after a final look, a haze dimming the shine in his eyes.  

 “Whoa,” Raph murmured. Then, only a little louder, he said, “Come look at this.”  

Many figures dressed in black and wreathed in shadows darted among the umbras, a darker mass tucked under their arms. From fissures, they could see a green-blue glow illuminating the inside of the crates.

“Mutagen?” Mikey muttered. He narrowed his eyes. “Are they taking it out of the van or putting it in?” Truly, the scene below was hectic.

“I don't know.” Leo gave them a swift, sideways glance. “But it's mutagen. We need it.”

“And, anyway,” Raph added, “they're probably not gonna do good with it.”

Leo nodded and then gazed over. “April?”

“Maybe,” she muttered absently, her more complete attention on the people. She gripped the edge so tightly her knuckles were white.

Leo blinked and crawled closer to his brother who rested a little off. “Donnie, what do you think?”

But Donnie had been swept up and stolen by the haze, and he didn't even respond in the slightest way. Leo turned to give the others a concerned glance. And, then, he reached out and pressed his palm to Donnie's neck and repeated his name.

This time, he jerked, blinking rapidly and shaking his head. He turned back toward Leo, his head tipping, already being reclaimed.

“Donnie,” Leo said briskly, “do you think we should fight?” Donnie's arms moved strangely, and he stared at the ground momentarily, something like disappointment and confusion in his eyes, before his jaws parted in a massive yawn, revealing well his long, acute, pearly white ivories, a strikingly pink tongue, and, at least, his familiar, distinct tooth gap.

It had seemed like an attempt to shrug, and, in that case, Donnie had no present valuable input. It puzzled Leo. He was certain it wasn't any bestial instinct clouding his mind; Donnie was tired. They all were, definitely. But why could he just barely function? His lethargy was on and off, and Leo didn’t understand, really.

But he knew that those people needed to be stopped.

And, maybe, his team could benefit beyond the excellent sense of justice.

“O-Okay, Donnie, okay. Stay here, all right? We’ll be back.” Donnie gave him a faintly disturbed look, and he opened his jaw like he was going to speak. But he succumbed to another yawn before he could even attempt, and Leo waved the rest off.

 The urge to lay his heavy head down was overwhelming, and, for just a second, Donnie did just that. But he dragged himself out of the appealing, tempting corner of unconsciousness that called his name and offered peace.

Leo had gone— they’d all gone. Donnie’s eyes narrowed. Did they expect him to not notice? All he had done was yawn and drift off momentarily.  His frustration with Leo renewed, and a huff escaped him. As his head cleared, the sounds of a scuffle, at last, reached him. So that’s where they’ve gone.

He struggled to his feet and crept forward, peering over the edge to investigate the noises of battle. As soon as he came to the brink, the cries cut off abruptly.

An unmasked man stood erect alone in the center of the alley. His skin was stark against the dark material, his cheeks flushed. His yellow teeth were bared, and his words were so slurred and emotional Donnie couldn’t begin to comprehend. Judging by his face, the words were far from pleasant.

His face screwed up especially ugly then, and his voice rose in a strident, raucous tone. Ow.

April darted forward and delivered a roundhouse kick, ending his monologue suddenly. The human was forced back, and he let out one cry, twitched, and then lay still.

Donnie leaned forward as admiration for the girl fought past the dominant weariness. She improved so quickly it was almost absurd. At least his Sensei had found a more suitable, able student to take his place.

The pain that clenched Donnie’s heart was nothing he had ever expected. He swayed and tipped forward.

He broke out of his state with a yelp, and he frantically scrabbled backward. He heard several of them call, but he didn’t acknowledge them, now trembling in a hunch.

God. He was bleeding. From several wounds now that had just ceased. And his pads were bleeding now too, the lesions at last pushed past their point. They stung so badly and ugh he just wanted to sleep.

He winced. It was getting worse. He dipped his head and started to rasp his tongue over the abrasions, just trying to soothe them. And, also, it did bring him some comfort, which was quite welcome.

Donnie felt like he’d never want to go on patrol again. Certainly not in this form, and very much not in his… his normal body.  

Never again.

“Dude.” Donnie looked up briefly as Mikey trotted up to him. He fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around Donnie’s neck. “You really need to keep away from roof edges.”

Donnie paused, staring at the concrete for a moment before twisting to rest his head on Mikey’s side. Quickly, though, he shakily rose. The contact was wonderful and nice —oh so nice—but it brought the sleepiness crashing back, and that was not a place he wanted to return to yet. It made them assume he was brain-dead; Donnie didn’t need that.  

Looking over, the other three had joined them. They seemed reassured by his reaction to Mikey and didn’t ask. April held a canister of mutagen, a little more than a quarter full. Leo saw his gaze on the container and said, “Uh, that’s all we recovered. They actually kind of got away with a lot of it, and, uh, the rest of the stuff in the crates they left was just full of old junk from that warehouse. But, I think it’ll do.”

“Maybe,” Donnie wanted to add. He didn’t know if it’d be enough. But he was so tired all he could muster the will to feel was hope.

 Splinter stood expectantly when they returned. His pricked ears flattened quickly as he spied his bedraggled sons. Raph held up the result of their effort, with a weary, forced, lop-sided grin. His arm shook, and it fell. Leo grimaced at the pathetic sight, and Donatello seemed asleep on his feet. Mikey clutched one arm and immediately pushed past the turnstiles. Raph followed, and, after rousing Donnie, Leo followed suit.

But Donatello stared in dismay at the turnstiles. Reluctantly, he tried delicately stepping over them, but he tripped just like the very first time, except he didn’t get up. Leo huffed and turned back. When he extended a hand, however, Donatello’s lip drew back, and a growl swelled in his throat. Leo withdrew quickly, and, as Donnie settled, he looked back to them with clear hurt in his eyes.  

“Let him,” Raph grumbled. “We’ll get him up later.” Leo gave Donnie one last upset glance before complying.

“Is Donatello all right?” Splinter’s voice was soft.

“I… I think. He’s really tired and hurt.”

“We all are,” Mikey muttered again.

Splinter's gaze fell to his son's injured arm. “Yes, I can see that.” He lowered himself into a kneel, gently taking the limb. To the two others, he said, “Please try to bring Donatello over here.”

As they limped toward their brother, Mikey said, “It just started hurting really bad. I don't know why it did now and not before.”

After a few moments, he began biting his lip. Then, shortly, he leaned forward. “Sensei?” When Splinter glanced up, he continued. “April got Donnie back... Sensei, that's our Donnie.”

He paused, his hands hovering over the wound. He gave Michelangelo a long, searching look before bringing his attention to his three sons. Donatello had brought his head up, and his gaze was on Raph.

“Donnie, please.” Leo crouched. “Sensei asked for you.”

At that, Donatello's eyes lit up in something like panic, and his scrabbling, backward movements toward the turnstiles were almost desperate.

Raph said, “What is wrong with you now? It's just Splinter. He's not gonna bite your head off.” Donnie lurched forward painfully as though some extreme force had managed a blow to his stomach.

Splinter's ears completely pressed to his skull. “Do you know what has Donatello upset?”

“I…” Mikey seemed confused. “I thought it was the obvious 'I lost my mind and acted like an animal,' but I don't why that'd upset him so much when you're mentioned.”

Splinter almost stood, gave the injury on Mikey's arm one look, and then settled. The flesh was raw and angry around the open gash, and it needed prompt tending to. As soon as Donatello at last succumbed.

Glancing over, he was in time to see his double-mutated son climb to his feet with a grunt, baring his teeth. His other two children stuck by their brother as he picked his way over painfully.

Immediately, Splinter noted Donatello was deliberately avoiding his gaze. Gingerly, he released Mikey's arm and moved to him, softly murmuring, “Donnie?” He was taken aback by the bitterness that gleamed in his son's eyes, and his hand recoiled. Donatello hadn't met his gaze, but he glowered at Splinter's chest. Then, for the barest moment, he eyes darted up. And then the contact was gone. But his features had softened, and he squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. His claws scraped against the ground, and, when Splinter glanced downward, surprise flickered in his chest.

The sight pushed him to put the idea “they need medical attention” into motion. He silently assessed them and determined Michelangelo needed attention first, then Leonardo, Donatello, and Raphael.

“Set the canister down, Raphael. I will store it later.”

He expected some retort, but Raph obeyed without even a noise of a complaint.

On the contrary, Donatello did not want to rise, and, when he finally did, it was after a series of frustrated, angry snorts and huffs.

If his son was present, he would need a stronger filter and more control. Splinter would have a talk with him and perhaps find some advice to offer.

But only after he discovered the source of Donatello’s fear and anger, or it at least calmed.

Donatello's mind was a muzzy mess of anger and pain and animalistic desire and self-hatred and guilt and so much more pain. He had had clear moments, but, at this point, he was actually asleep on his feet.

He knew they'd make him stay up, and it made him angry. Why couldn't they just let him sleep?

He stumbled going up the dojo steps.

Sleep was all he wanted. Relief from the pain came second. He was convinced he would kill to get an hour of rest.

Donnie could only make it as far as the tree before his limbs gave out and he collapsed, and he had only been driven by will kindled by some inclination.

Like he had anticipated, his older brothers came over, quietly asking him to stay awake. He thought he owed them something for all they'd done tonight, so he didn’t snap at them.

But he wanted Mikey too. Where was Mikey? He twisted, searching for him. But he grew tired, and his head fell once more. His chin rested on his paws.

God, he was tired.

He yearned for his bed like never before. His warm, soft, comfy bed. But the floor seemed pretty comfy right now too. He'd have to tolerate the floor tonight. It could be worse. The mats took the edge off of the cold stone. And… he didn't feel like coming up with any other reason. It was as good as he'd get for a while now.

Donnie drifted off further for a while. His brothers roused him often, and it jolted Donnie out the haze for a moment before he slipped away again. It was an unbroken cycle until it was his turn and Splinter's unexpected touch sent him jerking away.

His broad, fur-coated face and wide, concerned brown eyes upset the peaceful daze into which Donnie had retreated. The remorse crashed back down with all the force from before— even more, with his rat father right in front of him.

“Donatello,” he said, though the former scarcely heard. “I must tend to your wounds.” He came closer despite Donnie's whine. Quieter, he said, “I do not know why you are so frightened of me, but I promise I only wish to help you.”

His hands were gentle, lightly skimming over the injuries he found. But Donnie still shuddered. What if he knew? he thought in cadence. What if knew? What if he knew?

“Donatello,” he at last consulted. “Are you all right? I am not hurting you, am I?” Donnie trembled, and Splinter sighed.

A soft palm pressing against his neck alarmed him, and he jumped once more, huffing hoarsely.

It was as though the contact allowed Splinter's own injury to seep through his fingertips and overwhelm an already exhausted and disheartened Donnie. Did he really care so much if his least favorite son was injured or anxious?

Donnie was even more perplexed when Splinter began to gingerly stroke his neck. Raising his gaze momentarily, he caught the frown of genuine concern.

At this, Splinter went back to his injuries, leaving Donnie to wonder why his father only now chose to show a scrap of consideration for him.

There was a scuffling and a lack of physical contact. Something rustled. And, then, the sensation of fresh pain swept over him.  

Donnie froze, tensed, and grunted. Splinter paused, muttering a quiet apology before resuming.

The pain dulled as he grew accustomed to rhythmic movements. He managed to relieve his fiery muscles a little bit.  

And, at some point, Donnie slipped away into blissful unconsciousness, free from the agonizing, strong emotions and the horrible, horrible instincts that made him slaughter a poor, poor rat.

[soergel-brad]

Caverns of Gold

The following story is featured in volume VIII of the digital magazine “The Talefeather.”

        Colman, Eminne, Lipapa, and Klynbhar descended the cavernous path cautiously.

“I am unsure of this, Colman; I’ve heard monstrous tales of a place such as this.” Lipapa said as her eyes scanned the dark stone walls.

Colman smirked as he walked alongside the three, a spring in his step. “Worry not friends! I have it on good authority that within this hillside lies an endless supply of mythril, gold, and better yet, adventure!”

“Look ahead, something lights the way!” Eminne said as she pointed into the distance.

Before them, the path twisted to their right, an eerie yellow light illuminated the walls. As they turned the corner, they were greeted by a large, golden cavern. Luminescent pools of gold liquid rested in the valleys of the floor, plants and vines covered the walls, and yellow mist sporadically spewed forth from cracks in the rock. What caught their eyes most were the beasts that roamed aimlessly thoughout the cavern.

“Seven hells, look at the size of that toad!” Klynbhar shouted.

Immediately the beast turned to the four, its bulbous eyes fixed on Klynbhar. A long slender tongue erupted from the toad’s mouth and shot toward him. Reflexively, he crouched to the ground as the tongue speared the air directly above him. The other three looked on in shock as they jumped back. Klynbhar scrambled backwards around the corner and the rest followed.

“I’m beginning to agree with Lipapa, this doesn’t seem worth the trouble.” Klynbhar said as he began to stand and dust himself off.

Colman shook his head. “Nonsense! We just needs be more cautious. Such a large beast must be easy to evade. Surely we just wait for him to return to his...”

Just then the toad’s bulk appeared next to them. It tried to crawl towards them, unable to fit through the cavern path. It furiously flung its tongue at them, trying to pull them into its mouth.

The four of them screamed and ran back up the path, out of the reach of the monster’s tongue.

“I believe the gods are trying to tell us to venture no further.” Lipapa said as she caught her breath.

Klynbhar nodded at the lalafell, and Eminne looked to Colman, who stood defiantly.

“Friends, we cannot allow a lone beast to keep us from such riches and glory!”

Colman wielded his axe, turned towards the beast, and charged. Lifting his weapon into the air, he bellowed a furious shout, only to be promptly grasped by the tongue of the toad. In a split second, he was swallowed by the beast.

The three stood silently and looked at each other, mouths agape. A moment later, they all unsheathed their weapons and charged towards the giant toad.

Eminne took aim and loosed arrows, trying her best to hit vital areas. Klynbhar furiously pummeled the head of the beast, while Lipapa conjured stones to hurl at it. Soon after, the toad was felled, its carcass plugging the cavern entrance.

“Colman!” the three shouted as they pried the toad’s mouth open. They saw no sign of the warrior, but heard muffled shouts.

“What in the bloody hells are we to do now?” Klynbhar said as he looked at the two.

Eminne unsheathed a knife from her belt. “I suppose we have to cut him out.”

The three looked at the knife, none of them eager to grab it. A moment later, Klynbhar furrowed his brow and grasped the knife from Eminne’s hand. As he hesitantly drew the knife up to the belly of the beast, it began to rumble.

They all took a step back and watched Colman’s hand erupt from the gullet of the monster. Eminne grasped it and began to pull, with Klynbhar aiding her once he realized what was happening. After a few tugs, Colman was free of the beast, gasping for air as he rolled on to his back, covered in a thick, clear slime.

Lipapa rushed to his side and began casting healing magicks on him as he sat up. Colman looked to the others and smiled.

“How exciting was that? I bet that none of those bastards drinking their days away in the Carline Canopy can say they’ve fought such a monster!”

Eminne smiled while Klynbhar and Lipapa gave Colman worried looks.

“Mate, you were just eaten.” Klynbhar said.

Colman shook his head and chuckled. “I had no doubt in my mind that you would come to my aid! Besides, I could have carved my way out of the beast if need be.” He stood up and stretched his legs. “Now, let’s shove this thing out of the way so we can get to the riches inside!”

Colman and Eminne began to ineffectually push the toad, trying to clear a path into the cavern; Klynbhar and Lipapa stood by silently.

Colman turned to the roegadyn and lalafell. “Come now, give us a hand.”

Lipapa gave Colman an apologetic look. “I think we should turn back, Colman.”

Colman beamed at her. “Lipapa, the worst of it is behind us! Clearly no monster could rival the one we just fought. And right behind this carcass is a fortune, just waiting for us!”

The two looked unconvinced, so Colman continued. “If we find nothing of value in the next room, I will gladly guide us all back to the surface. I’ll even buy a round of drinks for the trouble.”

Lipapa and Klynbhar reluctantly agreed and helped to push the beast out of the way. Unfortunately, they weren’t able to move it, only to lift it enough to narrowly squeeze through the path.

Once again they surveyed the giant cavern, sure to be much quieter this time.

Eminne approached a pool of the golden liquid. “It smells quite foul. I don’t believe this is truly gold.”

Colman chuckled. “Of course it isn’t actually molten gold! But have you ever seen such a substance? Certainly it must be worth its weight in the real stuff.”

Colman pulled a jar out of his sack and unstoppered it. He dipped it into the pool of noxious liquid and sealed it shut. A moment later he dropped the jar as he winced in pain. His bare fingers burned fiercely as the liquid began to sear his flesh. The jar shattered on the hard stone, and liquid splashed all over him, singeing any piece of exposed flesh.

“Ow, ow, ow.” Colman grunted as he hopped up and down. “Lipapa, could you come here a moment?”

“Perhaps you should come over here.” Lipapa said as she, Klynbhar and Eminne began to back towards the entrance.

Colman turned the direction the others were facing, towards the interior of the cavern. The sound of the jar shattering had alerted nearly a dozen creatures. The four turned to the exit, only to see the giant toad they thought dead pulling its head out of the pathway and turning to them.

As it unleashed a guttural croak, the four screamed and ran. They all sprinted into the main chamber of the cavern, weaving around the monsters as best they could. Klynbhar tried punching any that were in reach, and Eminne loosed a volley of arrows meant to slow the beasts. The toad croaked as it plowed over some of the monsters, eagerly trying to reach the adventurers. As they approached the next chamber, the toad began to lash its tongue out wildly.

Just as Colman ran through the opening to the next room, the toad’s tongue shot past his head, missing it by ilms. It crashed into the wall of the cavern, loosing a boulder. This caused a partial cave in, and the adventurers scurried away from the avalanche as fast as they could.

Once the boulders finished falling, the four stopped to catch their breath. The path they had come from was now blocked off, sealed by a mountain of rubble.

Lipapa healed the others’ wounds as Klynbhar and Colman argued.

“Thal’s balls! I can’t believe I let you drag me into a shiteheap like this.” Klynbhar said as he looked for an opening in the pile of stone.

“While I admit that this wasn’t ideal, surely you’ve never felt so alive! This is the kind of adventure that makes the history books!”

“The only history book you’ll make it into is ‘the History of Idiotic Bastards.’”

Eminne tapped Colman on the shoulder. “Mayhap we should discuss this later?” She pointed towards the center of the chamber.

This room looked much like the last, pools of noxious gas and liquid, root systems and overgrowth. No creature inhabited the room, aside from one; a giant plant monstrosity that lumbered around on four stumps and had two enormous whip-like appendages.

The group immediately fell silent as they spotted the beast. Looking around, Lipapa found an exit to the right side of the room. She pointed towards the opening, and the group slowly snuck out of the room by hugging the wall and remaining as quiet as possible.

The next room was a much narrower path. The overgrowth became thicker and more puddles of gold dotted the floor. Inside the room was a great hulking beast made of naught but vines and teeth, a few miniature versions of the monster, and some strange green pods made up of vines.

“Seven hells, is that a morbol?” Klynbhar asked, astonished.

Eminne’s eyes lit up as she gasped. “Morbols! I love morbols!”

She broke off from the group and sprinted towards the morbol seedlings, arms outstretched. When she reached one, she hugged it tightly.

The mob of seedlings approached her, mouths drooling. Colman and the others ran to Eminne’s side and began to pull her away.

“But they are just little babies! I just want to pet them!” She yelled as one of the seedlings began gnawing on her arm.

“Dear, these morbols aren’t the tame ones you’d see at the chocobo track.” Lipapa said as she drew her staff.

Despite their efforts, the group was nearly engulfed in tiny morbols. Worse yet, the adult at the far end of the room approached as well. The group hacked and slashed their way free as best they could. Punches flew, axe swung, vines whipped, and plenty of bad breath was belched. Eminne even reluctantly fired some arrows. In the end, the group narrowly managed to crawl their way free of the heap of morbols.

The next room was a much larger chamber with a high ceiling. Unlike the previous rooms, this one had nearly no vegetation in it. In the center stood a monster who at first blush might be confused with a giant man. The thing had the frame of a normal man, but nearly quadruple in size. It carried a giant club in its right hand and stood on two legs that ended in hooves. The most noteworthy feature of it was the single, gigantic eye that occupied nearly its entire head.

Lipapa glanced off to the continuing path to the right of the cyclops. “Mayhaps we can sneak by it if we just move…”

Before she could finish her sentence, the cyclops spotted them and began charging, club raised.

They all scattered in different directions, each readying their weapon. Colman began to hack at the leg of the beast, unable to pierce its thick hide. Klynbhar worked at the monster’s stomach, trying his best subdue it. Eminne tried to hobble it by aiming for its calves, and Lipapa conjured cutting winds on the cyclops.

Unfazed by the onslaught, the beast swung his club across Colman’s side. Colman flew like a doll across the room, and crumpled in a heap. Lipapa ran to him and began to cast her most potent magicks, when the cyclops charged toward her.

Klynbhar and Eminne furiously attacked, trying to pull attention away from the others. With a swift, ferocious kick, Klynbhar managed to bring the cyclops to its knee. He then spun around and kicked the back of the monster’s hand, forcing it to release its club.

It then turned silently to the monk and archer, its one giant eye glowing. A moment later the air around them began to crackle, and light gathered around the head of the beast.

“Shite! Run, Eminne!” Klynbhar shouted as he sprinted away.

Eminne followed suit as a giant beam of light erupted from the creature’s eye. It scorched a path across the stone as the cyclops moved its head.

By now, Colman was up on his feet and charging back into the fray. He swung his axe into the side of its chest, cleaving right into its ribs.

The monster winced, then turned its eye to Colman. Colman freed his axe just in time to avoid the searing beam. In a rage, the cyclops continued to fire beams of light at the party, trying its best to burn them into oblivion. Klynbhar and Colman argued as they ran in circles, narrowly dodging the beams.

“You little blackguard! If we get out of here alive, I’m going to punch your moronic head right off your shoulders!”

“Oh Klynbhar, you won’t have such a sharp tongue once we each have enough money buy up a nice hefty plot of land in Costa del Sol!”

For the next few minutes, they all continued to run, dodge and argue, until Eminne got a clear shot on the cyclops’ eye. She fired a bolt directly into it, and the beast fell to its knees. Blinded, it began crawling around on the cavern floor, grasping for the adventurers.

The group took the opportunity to sneak away through the path on the right. Once they were satisfied with the distance, they caught their breath.

“Adventure! Isn’t this what we live for, friends?” Colman said to the three, with a great grin on his face.

They looked to him, returning none of the enthusiasm.

“Well, come now. If I remember correctly, I was told that just down this path is a vein of mythril so large that you could build an even newer Gridania with the profits.”

The four trudged on down the path, encountering a horde of monstrous diremites. Without much trouble, they were able to dispose of the vilekin, and continued on to a large chamber much like the ones at the beginning of the cavern.

Inside sat the largest morbol any of them had ever seen.

“Oh thank the gods. Look there.” Lipapa said as she pointed past the morbol.

A sliver of white light, presumably from the surface, shone down on the cavern floor.

“I suppose we have to get through that thing to get out of here.” Klynbhar said as he readied his brass knuckles.

“Menphina be praised! It’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen!” Eminne said excitedly. “We needs not harm such a creature, it is too adorable to fight.”

Klynbhar lowered his fists and looked to Eminne. “Much as I would love to part company with it amicably, we both know morbols aren’t the friendliest type.”

Colman had other ideas, as he immediately charged forward, axe at the ready.

“The history books, friends! Adventure!” he screamed as he swung his axe savagely at the morbol.

The axe found purchase in the creature’s trunk, the plant’s inner liquids streaming from the wound. The beast roared in response, shaking violently as spores floated off its body.

Their attention drawn by the sheer size of the morbol, the group failed to notice the many pods that populated the cavern floor, much like in the other room. The spores fell onto the pods, causing them to split open, revealing dozens of morbol seedlings.

Utter chaos ensued. Waves of seedlings piled on the adventurers, biting and whipping them. The group struggled free slowly as the giant morbol in the center inhaled a deep breath. A moment later it belched a putrid gas on the party, hitting all but Colman, who was busy sparring with the morbol’s tentacles. The three crawled on their hands and knees, retching as they tried to escape the onslaught.

Colman ran to their sides and cut a swath through the seedlings, allowing them some time to distance themselves from the mob. They immediately began to climb the cavern walls, coughing and groaning as they went. Like a beast unchained, Colman furiously swung at the morbol and its spawn, keeping them at bay long enough for the others to escape. Once the path was opened, he climbed up the wall as fast as he could, narrowly avoiding a wave of bad breath.

Back on the surface, the group rested in the snow. Eminne and Klynbhar writhed in agony as Lipapa hurriedly cast cleansing magicks on herself. Once she was able, she cleansed the other two.

“Wasn’t that quite the journey? We’ll surely have stories to tell for years to come thanks to it!” Colman said after taking a deep breath of fresh air.

Klynbhar rolled over onto his side, facing Colman. “Mate, count yourself lucky that I’m ready to vomit my guts out, because if I could get my hands around your neck, I’d wring it until your head popped off.”

Colman laughed. “I know you’re upset with me now, but once we all get back to safety of the Canopy, have a round of nice, cold drinks – my treat, mind you – we’ll all look back on this with fond memories.”

Lipapa walked up to Colman. “Could you sit for a moment; I need to inspect your wounds.”

“I am barely scathed, Lipapa, but if you insist.” Colman said as he took a seat in the snow.

Lipapa promptly grasped her staff and began to beat Colman over the head.

“You irresponsible bastard! Do you know how many times we almost died in there? That was without a doubt, the single worst experience of my entire life! I would never wish such a journey on my worst enemy! Your charades have single-handedly shaken my faith in the gods. What cruel and malicious deity would create such a hellscape? What bitter and sadistic creator would allow such a terrible place to exist?”

Lipapa continued her tirade as she wailed on Colman’s head. Eventually Eminne and Klynbhar pulled her away and she began to calm down.

Klynbhar put a hand on Lipapa’s shoulder. “Now, now, Lipapa. Colman has promised us adventure, fortune, and a round of drinks. He’s made good on his promise of adventure; it would be a shame if he didn’t live to deliver on the other two.”

The three slowly approached Colman as he began to back away hesitantly.

“I’m sorry friends, but I’m afraid all I can offer are the drinks. It seems I’ve spent the last of my funds purchasing the equipment for this journey.” Colman patted himself down looking for anything of value on his person. “Perhaps you could all do with some empty jars? Haversacks? Flint?”

Colman made an about face and sprinted towards the path to Camp Dragonhead. Eminne, Klynbhar, and Lipapa followed suit, screaming obscenities and insults along the way.

[twelveswood]

All even! ;p

2. who is your favorite character to draw?

Hmmm, probably Dreyll. She’s definitely gotta be the character I’ve drawn THE MOST. Kind of like my “go to” if I don’t have anything else to do, that or Addie. But not for really any particular reasons. ;w;

4. how often do you draw?

Well, over the course of probably the past 22 years that I’ve BEEN drawing, not enough. It comes in and out. I probably doodled every 5 minutes as a kid, weirdly being busy with school was always inspiring. I guess when I had something “better” to do, it was motivational for art. After high school and into college there was a little less, but still lots, inspired by roleplay and video games (when DA2 came out I had a phenomenal RP and this like, crazy burst of motivation and was drawing almost constantly - well, when I wasn’t writing). These days I’m trying to draw a little something every day. I think that’s worked out for about... 3 days so far. So. Something. :’)

6. tag your favorite artists/inspirations!

Okay I really can’t even.. because there are so many and some of the ones that inspire me I don’t even know and I’d be way too shy LMAO... but just a small smattering of some folks here... @niccodai (;3) @wyrmforge @sichoral @coyote-carnage @voidseapickle and honestly the source of 99% of my inspiration for anything is definitely @ishgard and a special shout out to @seraphicrose who’s gonna kick my butt into gear ♥ THIS IS JUST A TINY AMOUNT I know SO many fabulous artists it’s.. crazy honestly, and not only that but just inspirational people. 

8. show us at least 2-3 drawings from 1-2 years ago.

ALL RIGHT BABES TAKE A SIP....

(some tola gift art)

(I actually still like this drawing of Kajh and it inspired a more recent one of him)

(a character which got deleted a long time ago but is still cute)

10. are you right or left handed?

Right! I have 0 ability to do anything with my left lmao... ;w;

12. draw one of your favorite characters in 15 seconds.

Uhm okay well my tablet is unhooked for the night so this should be fun... 

(I think I spent more than 15 seconds on this...)

14. what was something that you used to draw a lot that you don’t draw as much anymore?

Hooboy animals! ALL I drew as a kid and preteen was animals, all my characters were quadruped, like neopets or other petsite characters. Eventually it evolved into furry art, and then I started drawing humans. Not sure what happened, but that’s my story. 

15. when was the last time you did art?

Well if you count the 15 second drawing, like, less than 5 minutes ago. If not, probably about an hour or so ago I was working on a commission. ♥