#also the green on his claws is nail polish

[quixlebug]

i can’t tell if this is cursed or cute, but it’s Joel Smallishbeans we’re talking about here so I don’t think it actually matters either way

[itsabouttimex2]

Dude Tang sanzang really sound like a gentle but also....ya know-

and maybe we could get a fic of him?I kinda curious actually-

Taken Aboard

Yandere Tang Sanzang and Sun Wukong

(I’ve noticed recently that I enjoy writing yandere introduction fics- them meeting you. The content is a bit softer, but I enjoy establishing these things!)

You don't really want the shiny little key, no matter how important it looks. You just know that it's important. Made from polished silver and ending in many prongs, with a large gemstone set into the bulb... it was clearly valuable.

But you don't want it. Not the silver, not the jewel. You want what comes with taking it- a chase. And if these people didn't want to play your games, why would they come into your forest?

They’re only at the very entrance of the forest, where the trees are thinnest, but it’s still a foolish expedition that they’re surmounting.

There's easier ways to get through the area, after all. The forest is thick with trees and sharp vines, running with many rivers and populated by thousands of different animals. Clearly, these strangers are in no rush and have supplies to spare if they're traveling directly through instead of around.

So what's the harm in one little game?

You’ve learned all the creatures in this forest by heart- their scents and sounds and shapes, each palm-sized critter and earth-shaking beast impossibly dear to your heart.

Your hands; diminutive and deft, shift from tight skin to soft feathers. And as nail curves to talon, the bones of your fingers slide around your palm until they’ve diminished from five to four. In a sudden. startling flash of golden light does the rest of your form fall away.

As the aureate rays that wrap your body burn away from your reducing frame, the new truth of your body becomes clear- you’ve taken the form of a diminutive songbird. Were it not for your green-flecked wings, you would be entirely indistinguishable as a demon by the eye alone.

There’s just enough wind filtering through the dense forest to aid your feathers, sending your small form skyward.

You gather speed by twisting around clustered branches and thick tree trunks, breaking through a canopy of foliage and soaring to the warm sky.

Wings close to your body, you zip overhead the group and unfurl them in what would be a grand display, had you a more imposing form.

Tucking your wings tight, you dive haphazardly, snatching the key from a very startled monk all dressed up in a fancy cossack with a jangly golden stick.

Prying the metal free from his fingers, you retreat to the denser woods, taking a moment to perch as he calls out indignantly for you to return.

But you don’t even have time to gloat to yourself before a multicolored hawk comes at you, red and blue and ginger feathering.

Barely you manage to dodge, watching the bird soar past. The wind left in it’s blazing wake is so fast that your feathers are nearly torn out by their quills.

It rounds sharply, lurching at you again, only missing when you drop from the branch and dip towards the ground. The hawk turns and dives, losing you as you loop a low-hanging branch. It curves the bend with you, only inches away. Through the leaves, it misses by a hairsbreadth, mistaking a browning leaf for your insignificant form. Over the river your shadows startle the koi, causing them to retreat to the muddy depths. All across and through the forest are you hounded, slowly falling closer to the talons of the glorious hawk.

And you finally slip, diving too slow to avoid the clutch of avian claws.

But cold keratin is not what cages you.

Furry fingers tightly enfold your fragile form, stuck fast between the palms of the Monkey King.

He drops from the sky with some measure of grace, tail swaying in glee born of victory.

Exhausted from the chase, you concede defeat in the form of birdsong, melodically peeping and chirping to the simian from the cage his hands form.

Sun Wukong pauses at your display of surrender. It’s not often that a demonic enemy accepts being beaten. He carefully opens his hands to view you- and, to his disbelief, you hop onto the pointer finger of his right hand, holding the little key in your beak.

“You’re a funny little demon, aren’t you? So cute, but so darn troublesome… here, give me that.”

You don’t protest or fight as he snatches the jeweled key, stuffing the metal into his pocket.

“Wukong! Wukong, don’t hurt them!” Says a worried voice from just a few paces away, clearly out of breath from running. “Wukong do not make me recite the… sutra?”

His voice trails away at the sight of you, cupped in the simian’s ginger-furred hands.

“…they aren’t running, Master. They just… gave me the key after I caught them.”

The monk approaches slowly, then takes you into his gentle hands, a note of pity in his contemplative eyes. One soft finger brushes against the green spots that speckle your quills.

“Demon, I kindly ask you- reveal to me your name and form.”

With a giggling peep, you do as asked and immediately return to your true form- in his palms.

Tang Sanzang gasps from the sudden shift in weight, pulled to the ground before he can right himself. You giggle again, sprawled half on his lap and half on the dirt. And Sun Wukong laughs too, enjoying a moment of indignity from his oft-stoic master.

There’s a flash of irritation that fades the second the monk gets a good look at you- gods, you’re only a child. And so thoroughly ragged too. Mud and leaves in your never-cut hair, your fingernails chipped and uneven. Shredded clothing and no shoes.

“Have you been out here long, little one? In the forest, all on your lonesome?” Pity in his voice, compassion in his eyes. “When was the last time you had a meal? A drink? Come, quench yourself with my canteen,” he commands, lifting the fur-wrapped metal to your lips.

“They’re not a baby,” Wukong argues, tapping one clawed finger against your nose. “And don’t act like they’re harmless, Master.”

You pull away from the canteen after a long sip, sticking your tongue out at him. “No one asked you, Hóutóu!”

“Are you getting cheeky with Sun Yéyé? Maybe I should chase you all around your own home again, brat!”

Tang Sanzang sighs, not cutting into the squabble. Petty arguing was better than outright violence, and neither of you seemed all too serious about the verbal spat.

All he can really do is change the subject.

“I can hardly leave a little one all alone out here- even in the forest, it must grow cold at night. Come, you may rest in my tent when the sun falls. Then we shall find your parents, and-“

“Nope!”

“…excuse me? ‘N-no’, little one? You mustn’t joke with me like that-“

“I’m not joking,” you cheerily and confidently respond. “This whole forest is my home! And I don’t have parents, anyways! I was born from a fallen peach tree!”

That didn’t sound… too implausible, honestly. Strange things gave birth to demons, after all. Rocks, in Wukong’s own case.

But, even if you were a demon born of nature and the wilds…

Wouldn’t it be horribly cruel to leave a child out here, all alone?

You were small enough to still fit in his lap, small enough that you only came to Wukong’s hip even when you stood on your toes.

A child. Gods, how could you have survived on your own for so long? Demon or not, you were a child. Gods above, he couldn’t leave you here.

It couldn’t be that you’d leave easily. You had just declared that this forest was your home. And with the powers and skills you had, simple force wouldn’t be enough.

He… had some praying to do. To Guanyin, and to another blessed length of golden metal.

You would not be staying here a night longer.

[resident-gay-bitch]

“james, love…” lily puts her hand soothingly on james’ thigh. it’s soft, and small, and smooth, and almost delicate in her touch. everything about lily is so right to james, in every sense.

but gosh, sometimes he wishes that hand were bigger, rougher, scarred and pale with long bony fingers and black chipped nail polish.

james doesn’t even know why he feels that way sometimes. he loves lily. he really fucking loves lily. she’s everything to him, and five times out of ten he’ll yearn for her hand and her touch and her love.

but those five other times…

fuck, it hurts. and it’s so goddamned confusing. james drives himself crazy thinking about it.

actually, he drives himself crazy trying not to think about it. he doesn’t want to think about it. he can’t hurt lily. she’s the love of his life. so wonderful, she is, the brightest witch of her age, and she’s sassy and challenges james and doesn’t put up with his arrogance but also loves when he gets a little snobby. she’s so wonderful, and his parents adore her, and they’re engaged. to be married!

james doesn’t think life could get much more perfect than her.

oh, but his heart, it’s a terrible fucking thing. it’s the worst thing in the world, he’s beginning to think.

everyone’s always told him he has the most pure heart they’ve ever seen, that he has so much love and wears it on his sleeve. james potter has a wonderful heart, so good and lovely.

but james potter thinks his heart is so horrible, the betrayer. why? why would it do this to him?

it loves lily so dearly, and he’s certain of that. so why does his heart race so fucking fast when those long bony fingers reach out and tickle his skin. why does it ache and yearn for james to look into ice grey eyes and embrace another? if his heart so full of good and love, why must it hate james so much?

his body quakes when her delicate touch gluides over the meat of his thigh, the covers kicked down to his shins. her nails are painted a pretty pale green colour, and they look lovely, sitting in the place where his boxers end. he usually loves the sight of her hand there, so perfectly placed, her freckled skin contrasting against the tan of his own.

but not tonight. not right now. right now it’s his hand that james wants to see there. it’s his bony pale fingers that james wants to see spread out over the thick muscle. it’s his touch james yearns for.

he convulses, caving in on himself more. he’s distraught, arms wrapped tight around his almost bare body, snot in his nose, hot cheeks covered in tear tracks, his glasses all foggy.

“love…” she whispers again, her perfect, sweet voice. james loves the way she chants his name, weather it be soft, or tender, or loud, or excited, or desperate, or angered. he loves it all. he loves how perfect the melody of everything she says sounds to him. but he wishes for the deeper baritone of someone else to call his name in all the same ways. someone who’s not supposed to call his name in all the same ways.

james can’t even look at her. cant bring himself to look at her. he can’t hurt her the way hes hurting himself. cant believe he’s feeling this way. it’s horrible, guilt sinking it’s claws into his chest and tugging everything out until there’s nothing left but empty pain.

he can’t tell her, or she’ll leave him.

he can’t tell him, or everything will be wrong.

he can’t lie, or he’ll feel even more guilty.

he can’t be honest, or things will get messy.

he can’t rot like this forever, or hill drive himself to insanity.

they’re getting married next week, for fucks sake. and james loves her so much, and he’s so happy, and so excited. they’ve been taking about kids, about life. james got so excited about the thought, he impulsively bought a tiny pair of baby sneakers he saw in the store one afternoon.

so why is it, on his bucks night, of all nights, that he’s getting cold feet? why is it now just hitting him harder than it ever had before, these horribly betraying feelings?

had it been because those ice grey eyes looked at james with such pure affection and softness it made his heart want to explode? had it been because calloused hands felt good wrapped around james’ biceps as he had to be hauled back up to bed? had it been then kiss left on james’ forehead from pretty pink lips that didn’t belong to his fiancé? had it been the quiet words muttered into the night, when james was presumedly asleep, that had been playing on an insistent loop since they’d been whispered?

she can give you everything i can’t, amour. be happy, please.

or did it only really hit him, how horrible this all is, when he heard lily get home right as he was leaving. when he heard them talking downstairs, unable to decipher what they were saying, but sobered enough in the head to know they were talking for a while, taking about good things and bad.

or is it worse, because james feels the way he does, and he knows it’s bad and that he shouldn’t think on it, but sometimes he notices those ice grey eyes drift over to look at the soft curves of lilys figure? is it anger, he feels, for his friend to look at his fiancé like that? is it jealousy that he feels, when he notices her looking back? or is he jealous that those ice grey eyes aren’t always set on james?

“james.” lily whispers once more, moving herself closer to him on the bed, her hand shifting from his thigh to his cheek where she wiped his tears and held him. her makeups smudged, her hairs all messy, and he has a gaudy feather boa on. she wanted an all muggle henz night, and it looks like she had a wonderful one. and now james was here, ruining it because his heart yearns for a second.

why isn’t she enough for him? why can’t she be enough?

“i’m sorry, love.” james splutters out, surprised he can actually string his words together.

“oh, jamie.” she whispered, the soft pad of her thumb swipes over his wet cheek, flicking away more tears as they spilled. she leant in close to kiss his forehead, so delicate and warm, her kisses. so perfect. not enough. she smells like champagne, and sweat, and her floral perfume. it’s nice, comforting, it’s her and assurance she had a good night.

james sobbs more, they rip through him like waves; a never ending stream washing him away, and he aches.

“i love you so much, darling.” she whispers again, “and you love me?”

oh, more than anything he’s ever loved, almost. besides that one other incessant, irritable, beautiful, perfect disaster. he loves the both of them equally, he thinks, which is wrong. it’s so wrong. pick one, he tells himself. you can only love one person at a time.

“of course.” he nods, bottom lip wobbling as he speaks. “oh, i love you so much, lily, you have no idea-“

“i know, my love.” she smiles, so pretty, so perfect. “but your heart… it’s not only mine, is it?”

james stills, his said heart stops still in his chest. he isn’t entirely sure he’s actually breathing for a very long while. how would she know such a thing? how can she know? how- how… oh how?

“oh, my love.” she giggles, so softly. it sounds so familiar, like a warm summer breeze, and it settles something deep in james’ chest. it provides him comfort, as she always does, and he breathes again. “don’t panic. i’ve known for a while- for years, james. before we started going out, you know?”

“i’m so sorry.” he breaks, slumping into her arms and almost wailing against her chest. she holds him tight, soothing her hand over his back and petting him there, another hand sifting through his hair as she kisses his crown. she’d make a wonderful mother some day, james knows it. but now he’s gone and fucked it up, hasn’t he? “i don’t want to hurt you, i love you, lily, so much-“

“i know, james.” she sighed, kissing his crown once more, “you don’t have to be scared. not with me. you know you can tell me these things? i’ve been waiting for you to tell me years, thought maybe once we tied the knot you would.”

“you’re not… mad at me?” james peaks up at her, his eyes stinging from crying so much, his glasses askew. “why are you not mad at me?”

he’s terribly lost right now, his heart practically on another planet already with how fast it’s moving.

“you can love more than one person, james, and still have your love be pure.” she smiled, so sweetly, so pretty. he wants to kiss her, but thinks this is hardly the time for that. “you can love anyone you desire, as much as you desire. i know your heart is mine, i just share it with sirius, is all.”

hearing her speak his name like that, it’s unsettling at first. it makes james jolt back in shock, looking at her through eyes blown wide. she was never meant to know, no one was ever supposed to know. it’s weird, now she knows- she’s always known, apparently. but since he’s been made aware. why isn’t she angry? why isn’t she saying his name with such distain?

why does she speak his name like it’s something tender, like he’s precious? why does she sound out each letter the same way james would?

“you’re not a terrible person, james. please know that. i only waited so long to bring it up because i wanted you to feel good about it. but i can see it getting to you…” she sighed, smoothing her soft hands over his shoulders, “i love you so very much, no matter how many other people i share your heart with. i think it’s wonderful, how you can love me so strongly and still have more to give. don’t you think it’s wonderful? you do really have the biggest heart.”

james doesn’t know how to feel right now. he doesn’t know what this means. she loves him, still. is glad, perhaps? he’s baffled, actually. and he must show it, because she laughs so brightly at him and wipes the last of his sticky tears away before kissing him kindly.

james sinks into her wonderful, wonderful kiss. oh, she really is brilliant, his lily.

the brightest witch for certain.

“you relax, my love. lay down.” she mutters, pushing james back to lie under the covers again, folding his glasses for him and setting them on his bedside, “i’m going to put on a spot of tea, and then we’ll lay together for a while, and we’ll talk more in the morning about what it all will mean, okay?”

“okay.” james muttered, closing his heavy eyes.

oh he really loves his lily.

he must have fallen asleep, because one minuet she’s laying him into bed and the next she’s making him sip a hot cup of tea. his glasses stay off, too tired to worry much about seeing, too drunk to process much else anyway. he sips his tea, and she sips hers, and smiles at him softly.

“i love you so much, james.” she whispers to him, taking his teacup and setting it on his bedside table. “let’s sleep?”

she doesn’t give him time to argue, shoving him over into the centre of the bed. rather than climbing into her own side, she crawls under the covers on james’ and curls in at his side.

but james can’t focus much on the soft curve of lily, or her pretty smile, or the inviting smell of her; there’s another body climbing into bed behind him.

“shhh…” lily whispers, taking james chin and turning him to face her, as he startled. she kisses his lips again and wipes away the confused furrow of his brow. “not now, love. just relax, okay. let us hold you, we’ll talk tomorrow.”

james nods and turns to look at the other body, and finds pale skin and ice grey eyes looking down on him softly.

“would you like me to hold you, jamie?” he whispers, and james’ heart burns with how fast it’s beating.

james nods, too delirious to question it, if he’s honest. it’s not as if they don’t cuddle, regularly. it’s just… this is a little different, he suspects. lily has this look on her face, like she’s meddling, like she’s happy to be meddling.

james usually loves when she meddles, so he can only assume this is something good. he doesn’t have to worry now, they’ll talk about it in the morning.

for now, he lays his head on his pillow and wraps his arms tight around lily, their legs slotting together with ease, a position they have mastered. she’s curled into his chest, her forehead pressed against the flesh of his, and her hair tucked under his chin.

but tonight another set of arms wrap around them. strong biceps and ink blead into pale skin lay over james’ own. those long bony fingers skate over the back of james’ palm, the one that rests on the meaty flesh of lilys lower back, and they slot between his own. a strong jaw tucks itself over james’ shoulder and nuzzles there, warm breath fanning over his neck.

it’s sirius, pressed up against his back, spooning james whilst he holds his fiancé. it’s so oddly comforting to be sandwiched between the pair, his heart never had felt quite so full.

lily shoots her hand up and shoves sirius’ face away, and she tiredly groans. “your breath smells like cigarettes, dog-boy. don’t breathe on me, or i will kick you out.”

sirius snickers, and james utterly loves the sound. it contrasts the melody of lilys laugh quite strongly, and perhaps lily is right; maybe it is kind of beautiful how his heart can love two entirely different things, so intently, and so equally.

“please don’t kick me out.” sirius grumbles, tucking his face behind james’ shoulder and kissing him there. james’ heart positively somersaults. “i’ll probably have a bigger meltdown than james,” james kicks his foot back against sirius’ ankle, and he laughs before continuing, “i love you both terribly.”

this time lily is the one to kick sirius, right between james’ legs, “shh! don’t ruin it!”

sirius kicked her back, “he’s so drunk, he won’t even remember, mrs. potter.”

“he’s significantly more sober now, dipshit.” she muttered, “sorry, jamie, go to sleep.”

“oh…” sirius muttered, pressing his face into the back of james’ neck, “sorry, prongsie boy. we’ll, ah… we’ll talk more tomorrow. but you can understand, right? waiting so long and all-“

“shut up, pads.” james groaned, hoping neither of them could notice the red smatter of blush on his face or the lovestruck grin he had plastered to his lips, “i’m trying to sleep.”

“right.” sirius muttered, and shut his trap.

silence lulled over the room again, and james mind was so heavy, so desperate to sleep. however, his heart was hyperactive.

this was something.

oh, this had to be something entirely wonderful.

he wasn’t sure he could wait till morning to talk about it further. he just had to get one last word in before he let himself sleep.

“i love you both terribly too, i suppose.”

james fell asleep feeling much better than he had before, lily and sirius sandwiching him in; the shared warmth of their body’s settling comfortably over james. they were here, now, all of them, together. james and lily love eachother, and by the looks of things james and sirius love eachother too; and perhaps even lily and sirius might. but either way, james’ heart is too fucking full of love and he never intends on ridding himself of that.

they both pressed pretty little kisses to james skin in sync, and james certainly dreamed much more wonderful things than he had in a while.

[evieismol]

Hello, can I ask a doodle of how you see the fangs and claws of the Aphirials? Thanks.

This is such a late response I'm super sorry! Continuing to try to finish going through asks and here's some claw and fang doodles (cw: anatomical skull). As well as some related world building rambling no one asked for.

Aphirials naturally have sharp/fairly long claws and keeping them long and neatly groomed and/or decorated is generally fashionable in Aphirial society, especially in the region Easton is from. Hunting (with the use of said claws) is a popular past time and being able to keep claws manicured when they're frequently used generally means the Aphirial in question has the resources to do so, so they're also seen as a class/status symbol, and that's made painting/decorating them even more popular.

Single color polish and simple designs like white tips or a flower has been a widely accepted go to for the middle classes across age groups and genders for a while. More fashion forward Aphirials, as well as upper classes (especially "new money" and celebrities) go for more intricate or outlandish designs from complicated patterns to nail charms type things. Having messy or bare nails has been and is generally looked down on, but there's also been micro trends of like clear polish, natural claws, etc.

And then there's Easton who filed his claws down to a "Looks human" length to not alarm the humans or accidentally scratch anything because they are SHARP. When he was back on Aphiria he usually just painted them some muted shade of green or brown though.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Week Between

For @ly0nstea's Azulaang Week.

Prompt: Hand holding

Summary: Aang goes for a walk with his newly pregnant wife.

Her hand is so small, dainty and dressed in gold and ruby rings. He likes it when she wears the ones that look like claw tips, the ones that look like finger armor. But he also likes seeing her bare hand, likes seeing the red and lightning blue crackle polish on her nails. Likes seeing those little lightning scars that she insists most lightningbenders have already or get eventually. Her skin is very smooth and very warm. She has a firm but contradictingly gentle grip.

His hand isn’t all that big until Azula compares it to her own. He wears a single ring–a wooden band carved from a special banyan in a swamp. Sometimes she can sense the spirit energy rippling off of it. His tattoos are always so vivid, remarkable on a hand that would otherwise be rather plain. His skin isn’t nearly as warm as hers but it is just as soft. Sometimes, when he holds her hand, it is like he isn’t touching her at all. 

Sometimes he holds her palm against his cheek. Sometimes she holds his against her belly.

Most of the time their hands are interlaced, held side by side as they walk. Or his hand rests on her knee and her hand rests atop his. Aang loves tender touches and brushing his lips against hers. Azula likes verbal affirmations and little gestures but she isn’t opposed to letting him caress her cheeks. It is only when she is in a particularly good mood that she lets him hold either side of her lightly rounded belly and coo at their baby. It always brings color to her cheeks. 

Aang loves talking to the baby, he loves seeing her roll her eyes. The pink on her cheeks is a charm of its own. He doesn’t get to see it very much, not since the early days of their relationship when almost any words or gestures of affection would make her face bright red. He ruffles her hair and tells her, again, that she is a beautiful woman. That she isn’t just glowing, but absolutely radiant. She almost always was. But he likes to remind her because sometimes he sees the way that she looks at her changing body. Her fingers brush against the backs of his hands.

He is always so cheerful. So loving. He has such high hopes for their baby. Such high hopes for their future overall. The very future that sometimes makes her nervous. It isn’t the future that she had envisioned for herself and it is sometimes hard to comprehend it, let alone get used to it. When she looks over at Aang, he is beaming from ear to ear. He has a golden smile like the sun when it glints off of the palace roof. She squeezes his hand as they walk down the path. She loves the summer heat.

He prefers the cool of autumn. The way that the trees blaze under the Fire Nation sun. This year, Azula reminds him of the foliage. Each day seems to bring a new hue or color. Each day they look every so slightly different and before he even realizes it, they reach their full glory and the difference is so stark. Today is a day between summer and autumn. A perfect in between, that one week where his favorite season and hers seem to be one and the same. 

Aang kisses the back of her had, his favorite spot to kiss is right on the largest of those lightning scars. Their walking comes to a halt in front of one of the garden benches and he invites her to sit on his lap. She finds it much more comfortable to lay across it. He props her head up with one hand while the other finds a spot atop the hand that she rests on her belly. She absently brushes her thumb over it as she watches the foliage shift. The canopy is just starting to lose its green. Its movement casts shadows on her face. 

Aang loves moments like this. Rare, serene moments where Azula seems completely untroubled. Likely she will fall into a light nap rather shortly. She wasn’t much of a nap person before the baby. He is not opposed to it at all, he is always in favor of a good nap. Likely he will have to help her sit up. He doesn’t mind. He weaves his fingers between hers and listens to the sound of her breathing. To the sound of rustling leaves. He hopes that she is as happy as he is.

When the trees and the breeze do lull her to sleep, Azula’s dreams are pleasant.

[rinwellisathing]

Tagged again for WIP Whenever by @vialae but actually that's good because now I have more random snippets of my WIPs: Papa Bhaal's House of Horrors is disrupted by the arrival of a business associate, Orin is not happy to have big brother's attention stolen:

Orin grimaced and rolled her eyes, making a gagging noise as she watched her brother scamper to the door of the shed and throw it open, rushing out the door, waving eagerly as the deep emerald green convertible parked on the long dusty drive of the 'manor'. Polished black shoes, far too nice for this bumblefuck of a place, stepped from the car, followed by designer black slacks with gold embroidery and then a matching jacket over a deep green button down, the top five or so buttons undone revealing gold chains resting against a next of dark chest hair, a glimmering obsidian pendant in the shape of a clawed hand hanging from one. The man had deep tan skin, a few scars at his chin and cheeks, a nose that had never quite healed right after being broken more than a few times, and unkempt stubble. He wore a pair of stylish dark glasses and his messy black hair was just barely brushed. Still, Sentry fawned over this guy like he was a rock star. “Envyyyyy” Sentry grinned as he made his way over to the newcomer, swaying his hips as he did, unable to keep his tail from wagging like an excited puppy. “ Is this a social call or d'you have a job for us?” The tiefling asked, standing practically up against the human, one long nailed finger tracing that magnificent chest hair absently. “I'm afraid I'm here on business, dear Sentry, but then again, a bit of pleasure wouldn't go amiss, I suppose....if you aren't busy.” Enver's eyes cast towards the shed even as his hands rested on Sentry's hips. Those tacky, tattered denim shorts certainly made the younger tiefling a tempting little distraction. “Well he IS busy, oil-slick interloper.” Orin frowned, folding her arms across her thin chest, eyes narrowed. “We were just in the middle of a project!” “Interloper, hmm? That's a big word for such a little girl.” Enver chuckled. “And also inaccurate, you know I have an understanding with your family, I provide my services in the procurement of victims, I make sure they don't leave the county, and in return, I acquire information, valuables, et cetera that you have no use for. I am a perfectly welcome guest, why, one could call me part of the family almost.” He ran a hand down Sentry's bare thigh, earning a gentle purr from the tiefling. “What ever you say, lickspittle. But my brother and I were in the middle of creating art! You can't simply pull him away.” The little girl huffed, her expression murderous. “Aww, Orin, don't worry, I'll come back in a bit...Can't be a poor host, though, can I?” Sentry chuckled, grabbing Enver by the hand and leading towards the house, hips swaying as he did.

And a new one I just started, which will be a sequel to Paint The Lines, Cut The Flesh, This one is Believing In Justice:

“Teela, dear! The ship to Baldur's Gate will be leaving soon, are you nearly ready?” Teela knew what her mother would say next before she even said it, she could practically mouth the words 'Because if you've changed your mind, that's completely fine, your father and I are always glad to have you at home'. She supposed she shouldn't be annoyed. A young tiefling, orphaned by the tragic death of her famous father, could hardly have asked for better parents than Esmeralda and Carlo Popsprocket, kindly Gondian artificers who kept a little shop in Waterdeep. She had grown up hearing stories of her birth father's fascinating innovations, his amazing army of mechanical men and the technological wonders he had brought to his home. Her adoptive parents often lamented having been unable to make the long journey to Baldur's Gate at the time to join the call for Gondians to help achieve this paradise of innovation, but they had always assured her that adopting her and raising her to become an artificer who could one day measure up to the illustrious Lord Enver Gortash, had been an even greater privilege, if an unexpected one. Teela examined her face one more time in the mirror, her high, sharp cheek bones, the severe curve of her nose. Her mother called it elegant, regal. Teela called it an eagle's beak. Of course then father would always argue that eagles were the proudest and most beautiful of birds. Her pale gold skin was always sprinkled with copper freckles and she swore there were more every day. She liked her eyes, at least. One was pale electric blue, the other a deep dark emerald that almost looked black in most light. Her tall curving golden horns, she supposed, were also fairly impressive. Skittering and mechanical chirps and chitters pulled her from her thoughts as he turned around and saw a small mechanical creature, made in bands of silver and black, scratching her bag as if trying to work its way in. “Oh Trashcan, of course you're going.” She clicked her tongue and shook her head as she made her way over to the bag and slowly hoisted it onto her back, the round clockwork raccoon that had been trying to paw inside, readjusting itself to peek out of the top of the bag. With that, Teela supposed she should make her way down to the docks.

As before, anyone who wants to do this WIP whenever is welcome to!

[lilmcttens]

(My) Amity Headcanons

In the Timeskip Luz distracts Amity on phone calls so much that she burns whatever she's cooking while she's standing in front of the stove! Emira has to keep a sharp eye on her and Edric quickly extinguishes it.

Whenever Amity says no to something Em & Ed wanna do together. They ask Luz to please, please, back them up and ask her and she'll usually cave and say. "Alright."

The Blight twins were really confused. At first at the beginning of Amity's dating Luz why Amity was into Luz. When they did all the same mischievous things that Luz did. Somehow it's different when it's coming from Luz! Including pranks which would get on their nerves a little bit!

Amity has a small rivalry with Mattholomue for class council. However, it's not nearly as intense as that of his and Gus's rivalry or Amity's forced rivalry with Boscha due to her mom and Boscha's mom still competing since Hexside days.

At one point Emira and Edric felt like they were becoming the third wheel to their own sister due to her dating Luz and tried desperately to get her attention or make her mad but nothing was working. So they sat her down and expressed their concerns and she quickly came to their rescue and promised both of them she would never abandon them for her love.

Amity schemes to get Ed and Em to show affection to each other. It’s not horrible or invasive I don’t think cause since the twins are pretty hands-on and affectionate anyway. It works. But the gist of it is that they’ll be good hugging her tightly and she somehow squeezes out and sneaks away, but somehow leaves Em and Ed hugging one another and then they jump back at one another disgusted and shout her name. Which just leaves her laughing at them.

Has Nightmares about Hooty's kidnapping and will never forget it.

Amity's hair used to once a time be as green as her sibling's hair, but the queen of not touching up her roots let it fade over time to be the light shade we saw in season 1.

Amity is not a fan of medicine and does not like to willingly take it much; but if she absolutely must she will force herself to do so, however, she will not give anyone else an easy time giving it to her. She’s just never liked the taste of any.

Amity's been a bit of a chaotic goofball since she was a child, but living with a mother like Odalia it's not only hard for her to express herself, but Emira and Edric have a hard time too. However, she became playful and teasing when she started dating Luz. She didn't really change in that since of rekindling her childhood she just became more of the person she really wanted to be. That fun-loving side was always there someone just had to come along and help coax it out of her.

(I think that's beautiful because there are so many saying Amity "lost her personality" I would argue she just thrived to become more of who she was hiding from the world. Maybe she hides behind a cool front, but she's a goofball at heart.)

Amity magically enchants her favorite black nail polish so it never chips. A trick learned from Odalia. Appearances are key! Also, AMITY HAS FANGS. We were robbed.

When Ghost knows Amity is emotionally vulnerable and needs familia love she will grab the Blights Emira, Edric, Alador, | minus Odalia (sometimes) and with her teeth or her claws or grappling their pant legs in her fangs lead them to her

Amity gets as sleepy as Alador.

Tries to keep a perfect sleep schedule.

(My) Amity kept the star ⭐️ and moon pajamas!

Strawberries are Amity's favorite human fruit.

Amity had no choice but to hold her twin siblings' hands while growing up when they went out somewhere. If they decided to sneak off somewhere too they might often take her along while she pulled back with her heels on the ground against the grain, but it was for her own good and safety.

[ennaku-sirri-da]

To hold me down, To make me fret, or make me frown, I had strings

But now I'm free - Concept (2)

[ Plaintext : To hold me down, To make me fret, or make me frown, I had strings

But now I'm free - Concept (2)]

[ ID: Traditional fanart of the Smile For Me game, featuring the artists own interpretation of Dr. Habit from Smile For Me, as a living doll leaning on the marionette side. This concept art is titled ' Hands( Palms )'. The style is semi realistic.

To the top center a typical marionette hand is drawn with segments and slots, ball joints. A big ball joint is drawn from the palms bottom. The notes for it read : 'Palm line and nail emulation/paint/carved' and 'These are always visible'. There are 3 joints of the finger, 2 on the thumb. Some notes on spacing between the finger joints are there with 'more' and 'less'.

To the side of this is a finger drawn from the side view. Only half of the side of the ball joints are noted to be seen. All of the art described so far is uncolored.

Then is the colored part, done in a soft digital graphite brush. To the bottom center are Dr.Habit's palms, fashioned after the typical one. However it is much bigger-palmed with longer fingers. The slots and segments, ball joints are shown here unlike the view of the other hand side. Apple-green fur is drawn covering the base. There are also ball-joints for the wrist area surrounded by dark deep bands cutting into the depth of either side. The fur on the hand plus half-upper arm shown sags with wrinkling and age lines. The hand ends on moderately long and dark red-polished claw-nails, rounded like a cylinder at their middles.

The palms are noted as being covered by cotton at the center of the hand. It is a pale green. On the left palm there is a big heart-patch stitched atop it, and the top of the thumb has a damaged area patched by brown cloth. On the right palm, brown cloth makes a long patch-strip starting from the index finger's bottom and a squareish, dull orange piece of cloth is near it, seen in the path of a long circular scar in the cotton.

Beside these palms are notes-- " Azhagan " ( meaning handsome or beautiful man in Tamil ) and a small " Basic. " section listing the basic features of wrinkles, fur and stick-like fingers that are flexible yet have a solid look. End ID]

Featherless chicken version

( Plaintext: featherless chicken version )

[ ID: The same drawing as before but zoomed onto only Habits palms. No fur or wrinkles or any other details except the hands themselves, doll parts like the segments on it are there. It is a photo taken before detailing and coloring too. End ID]

--

Talk under the cut!

Yeah... cotton palms!!

So I've talked about the heart patch more before...! ( link ) ( also the hands in the link aren't what I use anymore so sorry for confusion )

But basically, Habit made Pabit with it when he was younger- taking out a piece of himself to give it life. Pabit represented his dream to be how he wanted to look and be when he grew up, to be truly himself.

The palms have possibly the softest material used in the whole of Habit's parts. So he protects them more than his outer hands, even with a higher pain tolerance...but hurting still happens so he's got a few patched up wounds there as well. They are not easy to be rid of. Usually the cotton grows back on its own, but some severe cases leave it gone for a long time or even forever.

I like to think he stims with such hands as twisting, hand-snapping with them, so many possibilities!...and prime clacking material! Noisy like this crocodile I have!

[ VD: Me recording a simple wooden crocodile toy I have with beady black eyes. I say " And awayyyy we go", starting to shake it back and forth. I play with it more, my hand is seen with it on the floor only. The croc makes the sound of wood hitting on wood, a wooden jingling and click-clacking. I coo that it's so cute. End VD]

[breawycker]

He's the reason this show exists. Louis D'Esposito (co-president of Marvel Studios) showed him the comic when trying to get a collaboration with Fishburne's production company and Fishburne actually used to read the original Moon-Boy and Devil Dinosaur comics by Jack Kirby. He really liked them and got the idea to make an animated show about the series. He got Steve Loter who used to work on Kim Possible to help develop and Loter and his team made a rollerskating video with Sweatpants by Childish Gambino to pitch to Disney (which was used in the 3rd episode). He's also amazing as the Beyonder. Everyone should go watch Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur! It's got heart, great humor, awesome fight scenes, and some great representation! With the Owl House, Amphibia, and now The Ghost and Molly McGee over (😭), we can't lose this too.

[Photo ID: the poster for season two of Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur. The poster has a gold and light purple border with blue stars and gold star sparkles and in the center there is a large black rectangle featuring (clockwise from top left to center): Casey Calderon (Lunella's best friend and "manager". She is an original character for the show. Disney Wiki describes her as "a short 13-year-old Puerto-Rican-Jewish girl with brown skin, long black hair, and noticeably big black eyes. She possesses blush, lip gloss and nail polish, all colored in a coral-pink. She wears a blue shirt with a white collar, a black belt, and blue shorts with two large pockets in them. Additionally, she has large black shoes with white socks and wears gold hoop earrings." She is posing with her arms up and her pointer fingers pointed to the left, her right eye closed, looking pumped), Kid Kree (13 year old Kree warrior in training who is from the "Cosmic Cooties" storyline from her original series. He has blue skin and is wearing black, grey, and teal armor that covers everything but his mouth and has a black mohawk. His armor has this star/diamond like shape on it. He is smiling evil and is pointing his left arm put, his hand in a fist like he's gonna shoot a laser cannon), on the bottom we have some of the supporting characters all of whom are wearing a black "IS 833" shirt and striking different poses, which is the name of the school: a black girl kneeling down with a smug "whatever expression" with her hands up and flat like an "I don't know" pose, her black hair is partially down partially up in a bun and wearing long navy green pants, a lighter skinned person with shorter brown hair that spikes out on top, their right hand at their side, and their doing a peace sign salute with their left hand, in between these two groups is the Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur logo, then left of that is a boy in a wheelchair with brown shorts and short dirty blonde hair who's doing a similar pose to Casey but with his hands flat, a girl with dark long brown hair wearing blue, square glasses, an orange beanie, and long grey pants, her arms are crossed and she's doing a thinking pose, up to center left is the Beyonder (tall, skinny, sharp, dark orange skinned man wearing a mostly white but some black suit with blue quaffed hair, his fingers are very long and pointed almost like a claw, smilingly almost evilly with his right hand up like he wants you to give him a high five), in the center is Moon Girl (Lunella Lafayette, 13 year old black girl, short wearing her purple and yellow costume that has her dark brown hair sticking out as a ponytail, her mouth is the only thing visible and her goggles have a virtual eye shape that's like rectangles pointed up slightly. She's giving a triumphant stance, her mouth open wide in a smile, her hands in two fists pointed up), lastly is Devil Dinosaur (Large red T. Rex with black spots on his back, the way his scales look it's like he has little Devil horns on his head, he is wearing some kind of contraption as a backpack that gives him a mechanical left hand and the other is a three barrel gun that shoots the blue goop that traps people on bubbles). There is a large gold star behind both of them. On the bottom of the poster on the left is a stack of books behind a little Devil Dinosaur plushie and on the right is various beakers with a bubbling light teal liquid plus a little spherical gadget that is kinda shaped like Moon Girl. In the middle, the poster says that new episodes start on Disney Channel on Friday February 2 at 8pm and then on Disney plus the next day and below that it says OnDisneyPlus.Disney.com

End ID]

Hello sorry to bother you with this all of sudden ,and this might be coming out of nowhere, and I’m not trying to force you but I m trying to get more people into this show with great potential. If your not interested it’s fine but Have you heard of or watched moon girl and devil dinosaur? Season 2 comes out February 2.

The main character i love she gives me autistic vibes I’m autistic. The show has interesting characters, action ,great music, and animation ,good themes and representation, Anime references, it even has an eyecatch season 2 is going to be more story driven if you find that interesting. It be good if you watch the first 2 season 2 episode when they air so the ratings will be higher. And watch the other season 2 episodes when they air.

I think Disney might be trying to sabotage the show with them probably dropping 14 episodes on Disney + on February 3. They did similar with season 1 and the ratings where low ,please watch season 2 episodes when they air on. But more importantly also watch it on Disney + on feb 3 and when they air it on YouTube. Unfortunately they are dropping 14 episodes on Disney + so watch them all in one day but also when they air the first time.

I’m not just saying only cable just also. I’m saying please support this show. Despite that it still won 5 Emmys. Also if it’s no trouble could if it alright with you spread the word about this show to others you know like either online or irl. Time is limited!

I know of the show, but I haven't seen it. I don't have cable so I just watch everything on Disney+.

BTW, did you guys know that Laurence Fishburne is in this show? Morpheus from The Matrix. Isn't that crazy?

[shapeshiftinterest]

Bets And Bells: sun x moon x monty (CH 3)

based on THIS pic i drew

monty wins the bet, roxy (begrudgingly) admits defeat, all the glams get their nails painted, and the daycare attendant gets a present

story under the read more

Bets and Bells (also on ao3)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

“No freakin way.“

Roxy stared, disbelieving, at the bell in Monty’s claws. He’d burst through the door a few seconds ago, startling everyone in her green room, and shoved it in her face, causing her to go cross eyed before she smacked his hand away. Currently the gator was gloating, Chica and Freddy once again watching on the side lines of Roxy’s purple couch.

“Yes way,” Monty said cheekily, watching as Roxy’s spilt nail polish dripped onto her carpet. She was gonna be so pissed once she noticed. Monty’s smile grew.

“Now,“ he said, “Wasn’t there somethin’ y’wanted to tell me, Roxy-roo?”

“Uuugh. Don’t call me that. And wipe that dumb smile off your face before it splits in two,” she growled, snatching the bell to examine it.

“Hey!“

Monty made a grab for the bell and almost tripped on the keytarist’s outstretched leg. Roxy blew a raspberry at him. “I just wanna make sure you didn’t like, cheat or whatever and just snag a bell from P&S.“

“Rude,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “I ain’t no cheater, I got the bell fair ‘n square.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Roxy examined the trophy, a tinkling sound coming from it as she rotated it. Using her X-ray vision, she was able to see the cursive M carved on one of the inner walls, a signature only added once a bell was attached to the daycare attendant’s current hat.

“Tch.“

“What is it, Roxy?” Freddy asked. He’d been painting Chica’s nails in alternating electric pink and green designs during the younger animatronics’ conversation.

“It’s the real deal.“

“Told ya!” Monty guffawed, the look on the other’s face was priceless. “Pay up, Wolf.”

Roxy grumbled.

“What was that?”

“Y..r.. .h. ..st a. s.ea..h“

“I can’t heeaar yoouuuu~.“ The bassist put a clawed hand where his ear would be and obnoxiously leaned into her space.

“I SAID YOU’RE THE BEST AT STEALTH, OKAY?!?”

Monty practically windmilled backwards from the force of her volume. “Jeez!“ The gator shook his head, trying to get rid of the ringing in his ‘ears’. “Y’don’t gotta scream at me! With pipes like that, no wonder you suck at sneaking around.” He couldn’t help but take one more jab at her.

“Why you-“ Roxy lunged but cut off with a yip.

“That’s enough, you two.“ Freddy said, intercepting the wolf animatronic by grabbing her collar like it was the scruff of her neck. “Roxy, you shouldn’t attack your bandmates.“ She huffed and crossed her arms, feet dangling as Freddy held her in the air.

“And Monty,“ Freddy said, turning his attention to the gator. “Roxy already said you won-“ Roxy’s tail smacked him on the ass in retaliation. The bear grunted but continued. “You shouldn’t have antagonized her afterwards.“

Monty glowered at the two of them, arms also crossed. A moment of silence until, “...’Msorry, Roxy,” he grumbled, staring daggers at the floor.

Roxy glared at him, but after a shake from Freddy, “Apology accepted, Monty,“ she bit out.

“I am glad the two of you have made up.“ Freddy beamed.

“Shut up, Freddy,” the two said in unison.

“Oh gross, he’s being all proud and wholesome.” Roxy squirmed mid air, trying to escape. “Monty!“

The bassist speed walked over and kicked their leader in the shin, quickly catching Roxy once he let go. The two hurried over to the opposite side of Roxy’s green room as Freddy hopped on one foot.

“I am still proud of you for using teamwork,“ the bear said, voice wobbling from the simulated pain. Monty and Roxy started making fake barfing noises.

Chica giggled at her bandmates but stopped she realized something.

“Hey, Monty.“

“Huh?“

“What’re you gonna do with the bell now?“

The room went quiet, none of the animatronics had thought about what they were going to do with the prize, they’d only been focused on the bet.

“I mean,” Roxy started. “Can’t you just put it back in the daycare?“

The gator furrowed his brows. “Naw. Can’t do that, I promised Moon I’d try to talk to P&S about a new costume or somethin’. ‘Sides,“ he picked up the bell and shook it. “I kinda wanna keep this.“

“You got caught by the Daycare Attendant???“ Roxy screeched, shoving his shoulder.

“Why’re you yellin’ at me?!?“ He tossed the bell to Chica for safe keeping and shoved Roxy back, instigating a wrestling match as the two fell to the floor. “I didn’t get caught sneakin’ or taking the bell. It snagged on my claws and I used that to my avalanche!”

“He means ‘advantage’,” Chica said, turning to whisper at Freddy from behind the hand not holding Moon’s bell. “Maybe Monty should borrow my ‘Word a Day’ calendar too.“ He nodded in agreement.

Monty and Roxy scuffled for a bit before Roxy came out on top, pinning the bassist to the floor. “What if you just follow though with it?“ she said, blowing a strand of green hair out of her eyes. “You get to keep the bell, they get a new uniform. Must’ve been a really crappy one if your claws could cut it.”

“It’s a win-win,“ she shrugged.

“Hey!”

“I agree with Roxy,“ Freddy said. He’d sat on the floor while Chica painted his nails electric blue, the bell sitting safely on Roxy’s vanity.

“What if they ask me what happened to the old bell?” Monty said, accepting his fate as a chair. Roxy had magically taken out some shimmery royal purple nail polish and was applying it to his claws. He hummed in approval, admiring her work as she quickly moved on to his other hand.

“Just tell them you lost it or something,“ Roxy said, flapping her hand dismissively. “And stop squirming, you’re gonna make me mess up.“

He poked the small of her back with his tail, snickering when she yelped. Roxy playfully bit his wrist in retaliation before going back to his nails.

“While I do not like that you would be lying to the Daycare Attendant, I believe this course of action makes the most sense.“ Freddy said. Chica held his claws to the light and narrowed her eyes.

“Same!“ she chirped, grabbing a Q-tip and wiping around the edges to get rid of the excess nail polish. “You’re not bringing it with you around the plex or anything, so it’s not like they’ll find out anyway.” With one last swipe around Freddy’s claws Chica nodded in satisfaction.

“Huh, yeah. Makes sense t’me.“ Monty said, finally being let off the floor. “I’ll do it tomorrow.“ And with that, the gator opened a new bottle of excessively glittery ruby colored nail polish and began to paint Roxy’s claws.

extra:

the next day, after morning rehearsal, monty goes to P&S and 'insists’ on a new outfit for sun and moon

a few days to a week later, sun and moon get a box with 4 new replacement outfits so they don’t have to wear the same one until it breaks again

[callmearcturus]

flashfic: scrap, push, pull

Dave+Dirk, DirkJake. In which Dave doesn't like violence, but his brother is dating someone who super likes it. Dave watches.

It starts out with a bruise.

It's starts raining while they're hanging out by the beach. All the salamanders come out to blub and play while Dave and Dirk find a tree to chill under.

There's droplets on Dirk's glasses; he takes them off and pulls an actual microfiber cloth out of his inventory, giving the lenses a thorough wipe down. "Want a hit of this, bro?" he says, low and sardonic as a sarcastic sunrise, offering the cloth. It has seagulls on it.

"Oh, hell yes," Dave says, taking it to clean his own.

He freezes as he spots something. There's a smudge on Dirk's face that at first seems like the play of a shadow over his skin. But it doesn't move with the rest of the shadows, and with his shades off, Dave can see its the last stage of a nasty bruise, the bloom of green following Dirk's brow bone and down the side of his eyes socket. It looks like it would have hurt like a bitch. Dave's had those before.

Dirk notices Dave's stillness and makes a wordless, inquiring sound. "You lose a fight with a doorknob?" Dave asks, trying to keep his tone light. "What? Oh." Dirk reaches up and presses two fingers into his bruise. "Nah, earned this one the honest way." When Dave continues to stare, he smiles faintly. "You've actually met Jake, right?" Dave's not certain what that means. He finishes cleaning his glasses and returns the cloth to Dirk, who puts it away and leans back on his hands, posture relaxed and max chill. The faded bruise is just barely visible around the edge of his glasses. = Dave learns what the fuck all that meant the next weekend, when there's a Gods And Winners Meet-Up. It's a cook out, with Roxy manning the grill with a little too much gusto, taking orders and slapping meat onto hot metal, sizzling things up. It's a warm day. Rose and Karkat have a big annoying umbrella set up, lounging underneath. It turns out Rose brought nail polish and is ready to cajole Karkat into some claw manicuring. This is how she bonds with people, just deciding out of the blue they're going to do a bonding thing together. Karkat complains a lot, but also has strong opinions on claw care that he's eager to expound on at the drop of a hat. This is how Dave winds up sipping apple juice, third wheeling as Rose and Karkat compare base coats. Whatever. He's idly looking around, watching what folks are doing just in case someone's having more fun that his sister and Karkat, someone begging for a Dave-shaped interruption. That is when Jake and Dirk have a fight. Dave doesn't see how it starts so he thinks for a moment it's a real fight. But from what he can tell, Dirk was just minding his own business talking to Jane when Jake walked up behind him very fast and swung at the back of his head. Dave sits up, a bolt of attention slamming up his spine, but Dirk heard Jake coming or something, because he falls forward, hand on the ground, pivoting and hopping up, facing Jake. The grin on Jake's face is feral. It reminds Dave strongly of Jade when she's about to figure out something ridiculous and inexplicable to everyone but her. What the fuck was up with these island kids, goddamn. "Too loud, English," Dirk says, stepping out away from Jane, moving in a slow circle around Jake. "Tish tosh, that was the point! I'm not very well going to be a sneaky dick about it, that's hardly sporting!" Jake's still grinning like a maniac. "You wanna do this here? Make a show of it?" Dirk shakes out his wrists, still circling. "I mean, if you want everyone to see you get your ass royally served up--" Jake darts forward, and Dirk springs back, words cutting off. By now, everyone is turning to watch. "Enough with the prologue, let's tango. No flash stepping malarkey, no flying." "Fine," Dirk agrees easily, rolling his left shoulder, then his right. "Best of one, no do overs, no improvised weapons. Get ready to eat shit, Jake." And they're off. With shocking ferocity, Jake tries to smash his fist into whatever part of Dirk he can get. It's not many, as Dirk plays keep-away, springing and hopping like a jackrabbit, balanced on his toes. Eventually, Jake seems to get frustrated-- or imminently aware of his own stamina hourglass. He shoulder rushes Dirk, a blunt hit that sends Dirk skidding. Dirk swings a kick, and Jake just takes it, looping an arm around Dirk and yanking him. Dirk bends his knee, tries getting in close, pushing Jake. Without a missed beat, Jake hooks one of Dirk's arms, forcing him even closer to beam in his face. Dirk headbutts him. Jake lets go, cursing. "Never a fair fight with a Strider!" His glasses are broken, but the guy just tosses them, pulling out a fucking back-up pair from one of his sixty pockets. "Want a fucking referee, Jake?" Dirk taunts. "Do you need a yellow card or are we doing this?" "Oh shut up, neither of us knows what the fuck that means," Jake snaps, and moves in again. It's a totally different fight. Punch, blocked by elbow. Haymaker, diverted upward. Knee to the gut, kick to the side. They

move like really vicious dancers. When Dave tears his eyes away for a moment he, inevitably, looks at Karkat. Karkat, who is smiling faintly, like he's watching a sappy movie and not a brawl. Blinking, Dave looks back. He's in time to see Dirk backhand Jake so hard, he goes down like a ton of bricks. And this, Dave assumes, is it. Dirk steps up and puts his foot against Jake's clavicle, leaning back to make his body a narrow line, pinning Jake down. It's time for the count. Dave's been in that position before and knows how hard it is to get out, to reach and grasps impotently for leverage. But Jake doesn't paw at Dirk's leg. He grabs Dirk's foot with both hands and twists hard. Dirk yelps in a very un-stoic way and falls like a felled tree, slamming onto his front, and Jake is on him in an instant, locking onto his back with an arm looped under each of Dirk's. It's incredible. Dirk tries to grab Jake, only for him to lean out of the way, then slam Dirk back down. So instead Dirk tries to claw forward, fingers digging into the earth and pulling. "Uncle?" Jake asks, delighted. "You giving up? I accept," Dirk says, but its strained and breathless. Jake laughs in his ear, his teeth a little red. "Alright, alright, that's enough." Roxy, still wearing her grillmaster apron, walks up. Planting her boot against Jake's shoulder, she dismounts him with one good push. He goes down laughing still, sprawled and smiling at the clouds. Dirk sits up slowly, hand pressed to his rib. "Got me in the same fucking place as last week. Ass." "Oooh, let me see!" Jake rolls onto his knees, closer to Dirk. When Dirk lifts the hem of his shirt, Jake reaches out to frame the smudge of color with his fingers. "Oh, you're going to look stunning!" "You boys are so fuckin' weird," Roxy tells them sincerely, rolling her eyes. From his side, Rose says, "Ah, the love language of shared violence." Karkat hums, sounding pleased, like watching the whole display stroked some romantic voyeurism thing in him. Which, might be his, like, domain now? "Perfect pair of complete fucking idiots." Dave looks at how Dirk looks away from Jake's fawning and feels something settle in his chest.

[softlimefluff]

Hi Ari! I know you have some rqs already but may I ask for an f/o list with Dio? It can just be in general, I have too many AUs to indulge in every part he's been in 😅

Hi Sofie! Thanks for being patient for this! :D

Dio Brando (little irl things for your JoJo f/o)

-First off, there's a ton of pins available from Zen Monkey Studios!

It was me Dio with red glitter Pastel Dio with the stone mask and Dio's famous hand/joestar mark pose with black and multiglitter

-Need a keychain/keytag? Dio has your back. There's an embroidered one here and a little SDC Dio rubber one here and this hilarious "diodorant" acrylic one

-There's a DIO and The World kimono wrap here if you want to wear your man and his stand in public >:D or there's a super cool Dio sweatshirt here

-there's still a Phantom Blood Dio tomonui plush (plus stone mask) available at aitaikuji! (and the tiny tiny Chimi Tomonui from jojo world 2!!)

For stickers, there's a The World JoJo tarot card and this DIO TAKE THE WHEEL one I've been cry laughing over ever since I saw it

-For accessories inspired by Dio, I picked this gold and green watch and this alex and ani green and gold heart necklace (to be like Dio's headband and outfit in SDC)

-I also found these hair claw/clips shaped like hearts with a green one like Dio's!

-For a subtle nod to Dio's stand (The World), here's a pair of gold globe shape earrings~

-If you'd like a few more gothic vampire-inspired accessories, there's this bat and ankh necklace and these red teardrop earrings that kind of remind me of blood

-Keeping with the gothic vibes, there's this claw ring that reminds me of Dio's pointy nails

-For nail polish options inspired by dio, obviously you could do a basic black, but here are a few others:

Go Garnet Sally Hansen Insta Dri (almost black with a little hint of red!!! I saw it in person the other day and it was perfect)

For a shade inspired by Dio's nail color from JoJo World 2, I found the Sally Hansen miracle gel shade Hollaa-Gram (which has a green shift, which is a fun nod to his SDC color scheme)

Then this swatch online of OPI's "I'm Not Really a Waitress" looks very similar to the original product shade.

-To match elevated Dio's green lip, I suggest either Sephora's 70 Margs (which I have tested and it's good as a Jolyne lip too!) or a deeper shade liquid lipstick in Dark Forest

-If you're more into a blood red lip, here's a pretty Dior shade (because I've always though Dio's name influence came both from the band DIO and the fashion brand Dior)

-When Dio was younger in Phantom Blood, we saw him read books (specifically Araki's Gorgeous Irene in the anime and you can find a copy here) and he enjoyed playing chess (so here's a small magnetic set you can keep around and play to remind you of him)

-This one is kind of a joke reference, because I looked up Stone Mask and found beauty products instead of a JoJo replica xD but here's a Dio green stone mask you can chill in the fridge and relax with

-Dio enjoyed wine frequently as a young adult and then after turning, obviously, blood. If you're fine with alcohol you, can sip red wine to think of him, or sparkling red grape juice instead for a nonalcoholic alternative!

-You can also watch some classic vampire movies like Twilight, What We Do In The Shadows, Dracula, etc as a solo date night. Order in pizza and have your own private movie night!

-For Dio's musical name influence, you can listen to songs from DIO like Rainbow in the Dark and Straight Through the Heart

-As always, I recommend writing your f/o a letter (either in a journal or on @ jojolovenotes), sketching your favorite screenshots, rewatching the episodes your f/o shows up in, and making a playlist inspired by your f/o (including their music namesakes).

[cute-and-undead]

Chase gave a little nod in understanding as he chuckled, taking a look at the wings with Marvin. Yeah, it probably did feel weird moving them. It was like suddenly gaining another set of arms. But soon he was getting kisses, happily giving Marvin a peck.

"An incubus?" he asked with a little grin. "I'm a sex demon. Gonna love it." he then joked. As the light grew in Marvin's hand though, Chase relaxed more where he stood and let go of his boyfriend.

Soon Chase was consumed in the same green glow, the magic hugging his limbs until it covered him completely. And as the magic died down, he had quite a few changes. The largest one was the two large black horns coming out of his forehead, curling back slightly towards the top. A matching arrow-tipped tail flicked behind him, nails a little longer and sharper. It was as if they were makeshift claws. And as he cracked his eyes open, the only color swimming in his inky scleras was a glowing ring of baby blue around his pupils.

And on his now bare chest was a leather harness that hugged his pecks, his muscles seeming to stand out a little more than usual on his body. To go with it was a dark pair of pants that seemed to hug his legs in all the right places, as well as black boots that added an extra few inches. Though, he also had an odd aura around him. It was compelling, warm, giving Chase a sensual air around him. It helped to encourage honesty, as well as getting a potential target in the mood if he was.

"Oh! I've worn something like this before." Chase hummed as he looked down at himself, feeling the cool metal circle that sat between his pecks. Seeing his hand though, he perked up and held it out to Marvin with a little grin. "Look, I kept my black nail polish. It grew with my nails!"

Corruption (Closed Rp)

At first it was just a funny thought the two of them had when they were bored. With how much they realized magic was capable of in this regard, they were thinking of funny ways it could be used. After all, if magic could give them functioning animal ears and a tail, could make them go into a rut, then what else could it do?

So Chase and Marvin gave it some thought, giggling at the thought of making a cliché sexy roleplay into a reality. It was a typical one they never tried, but what if they did? Chase could be a sexy demon trying to make a sweet and innocent angelic Marvin cave into their sinful urges. It was funny at first, but it ended up being an idea they kept coming back to. Each time there was always something being tacked on at the end, another little addition that they seemed to like. And suddenly, it stopped being a funny idea and slowly turned into a reality.

It was how they got here, sat on the couch in Marvin's studio. Neither of them wanted to alarm anyone with the sudden change of presences in the house, so they decided to give themselves some much needed privacy. Plus, the area was spacious, giving them plenty of play too.

Chase peeked over Marvin's shoulder, looking at the book in their hands as if he could read any of it. He had no clue what was going on, but he knew his partner was going to make their fantasy real.

"So.. we don't need to drink a potion or something? You just need to cast a spell?" he asked curiously.

((@http-anti))

[dreamerstreamer]

Devil-May-Care

Pairing: demon!Dream / Clay x demon hunter!gn!reader

Summary: [Demon Hunter!AU] When you went in search of the most powerful demon known to mankind, you didn’t expect him to be so charming.

Warnings: a little horror + some violence + tw// weapons (crossbow, gun)

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: this was requested by a passionate anon! i fell in love with the request at first sight and had loads of fun writing this, although i did take some creative liberty with it. i hope you all enjoy :)

You huffed as you pushed past the branch hanging in your face, wrinkling your nose as you trudged onward. The forest was almost eerily silent around you, the pitch black night doing nothing to ease the tension that had gathered in your shoulders. Above you, the moon and stars twinkled soundlessly, peering down at you with wide, watching eyes.

Where could he possibly be hiding? you thought to yourself with a grimace. Is he even in this forest?

Your mentor had told you that this forest was the last place he’d ever been seen, and that it would be your best bet. But she also told you not to get your hopes too high, since he was known to be a trickster who never stayed in one spot for too long.

You sighed as you stepped over a fallen log, making sure not to trip. Despite how young the night was, you were already getting tired. Tracking was arguably the hardest part of your job, and easily your least favourite part of it.

Then again, no one said being a demon hunter was easy.

With a slight grumble, you squinted through the darkness while walking past another tree. So far, all you’d seen was tree after after tree, and you were getting fed up. Heck, you could have sworn there was a clearing just ahead of you here.

It was at that moment that the trees suddenly parted before you, and you found yourself standing in the middle of a clearing. The soft grass rustled beneath your feet as you took a tentative step forward, your ears perking up for any noise or movement. When nothing came, the muscles in your legs tensed.

This was the first clearing you had found in hours, and something about it just felt off.

“What are you looking for, little hunter?”

You whirled at the sound of the low, curling voice, your gaze frantically darting around the darkness for its source. You kept your lips pursed as your head whipped this way and that, nothing but silence filling the forest air. Even with the light of the moon, all you could make out between the shadows were the silhouettes of trees and their taunting branches looming over you.

There was no way it was who you thought it was... right?

“Not gonna say anything? Hm. Perhaps that’s just because you can’t see me. Here.”

You heard the snap of a finger, and the clearing around you suddenly lit up in a faint, greenish hue. Your eyes widened as the earth you stood upon began to glow, your fingers twitching at your side. Turning again, you quickly searched your surroundings once more for the voice’s owner. Everything seemed to be exactly how it appeared when you first arrived—the trees were just trees and the grass was just grass, even if they were both admittedly glowing.

Just then, there came a whistle from above you.

You lifted your head, and your gaze fell upon a figure sitting atop a tree branch a few feet away. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight.

Piercing, emerald eyes. A green fitted shirt to match. Dark, golden hair. A smattering of freckles. A cold, wicked grin.

The man smiled at you, swinging his legs leisurely as he tilted his head. “Hello there, pet.”

You didn’t wait another second before your arms were reaching up behind you, pulling your crossbow off your back. You slotted the arrow into the flight groove in near record time before aiming it up at him, aiming for but a split second before you pulled the trigger. In a flash, the arrow went flying through the night sky, pointed directly at his face. You could have sworn you caught his eyes turn red before he suddenly vanished, your arrow passing through empty space before pinning itself into the tree trunk he had been leaning against just seconds prior.

You panted, quickly pulling another arrow out of your quiver and reloading your crossbow as you turned in a circle, not a single detail going unnoticed by your watchful eyes. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you tried to focus on the rustling leaves around you. Your fingers curled around the stock of your bow a fraction tighter, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Where is he? Where did he go?

A smooth voice curled around the back of your neck.

“Is this how you greet everyone you meet, or am I just special?”

Whipping around again, you pulled the trigger without even an ounce of hesitation. A twang of satisfaction shot through you as you heard the distinct sound of flesh being pierced, followed by a tumble to the ground. You rushed over at the sight of the man—or demon, as you should be calling him—lying sprawled on the ground, his arms casually tucked under his head as if he hadn’t just been shot.

“Ooh,” he murmured, wrapping his fingers around the arrow sticking out of his chest, “your arrows are made of dreamshade.” He grinned at you. “Smart one, aren’t you?”

Before you could even react, he ripped the arrow out, watching with amusement as crimson slowly dripped onto the front of his shirt. You stared at the hole in his chest, left behind by your arrow, a glimmer of glee expanding in your chest. Yes! you thought, your lips quirking as your hand floated toward the pistol hanging at your side. Now’s my cha—

All of a sudden, you watched in horror as the skin began to reform, the sinew and muscle stitching themselves back together to fill the gap. In an instant, his chest was whole again, the hole having disappeared entirely with nothing to even hint at its existence, were it not for the tear in his shirt.

“Unfortunately for you,” he said, tossing the arrow behind his head with a flick of his fingers, “I’m tougher than most demons out there.”

In a flash, you were standing over him, one foot digging into his chest. You didn’t even give him the chance to blink before you were pointing your crossbow at him once more, this time just barely allowing the arrow tip to hover above his neck. You tried to calm your breaths, pushing back the sick sense of joy you could feel starting to boil over inside you. You were so, so close to just killing hi—

“Don’t you think it’s a little rude to attack me without even asking for my name?” he calmly drawled, looking bored out of his mind.

You blinked in surprise, your thoughts faltering for a moment before your expression hardened once more. “I know who you are.”

He cocked his head at you, something like delight swimming in his viridian eyes. “Do you, now?”

You gulped, hesitating only for a moment before you began to speak. “Y-You’re Dream. Lord of chaos. Progenitor of destruction. Harbinger of nightmares.” You nearly choked on your own words.

“The world’s most powerful demon.”

He grinned at you, clapping his hands together above his head as he let out a small hoot. “Aw, you know all my titles?” He winked. “That’s cute.”

Cute, your brain repeated dumbly, a fuzzy feeling forming in your chest, but you quickly shook the thought from your head with a scowl. You should not be happy that one of the most powerful demon’s known to mankind called you cute.

(Okay, well. Maybe you were a little happy. Not that you would ever admit it.)

With a stony look, your finger wrapped around the crossbow trigger, the cool metal sending a shiver down you spine. “I’m here to kill you, Dream.”

He didn’t look fazed. “Oh? Even though we only just met?”

A snarl ripped itself out of your throat, fury slowly beginning to claw up your insides. Why did he sound so calm? Didn’t he understand that he was about to die to your hand?

“That doesn’t matter,” you said bluntly, trying to ignore your heart ramming away at your ribcage. “You’re a monster that needs to be disposed of.”

He hummed, absentmindedly picking at his nail. “That’s bold of you to say.” His tone was dull and interested, and his eyes seemed to shine even brighter thanks the green glow surrounding his head. “I can’t remember the last time a demon hunter has ever been so upfront with me.”

The string tying your restraint together snapped. That was it. How could he be so nonchalant? So apathetic? Didn’t he care?

“You’ve killed so many people,” you spat, “taken so many innocent lives, and for what?” You narrowed your eyes, nothing but pure disgust running through your veins as you dug the tip of your crossbow into the soft flesh of his neck. “What reason do I have to stop myself from ending your life right here, right now?”

Below you, Dream only stared blankly at you, his eyebrows raised. Then, he let out a sigh, wrapping a hand around the stock of your crossbow. Panic shot through you as he pulled it away from his throat with ease, his fingers curling around the polished wood. “First of all,” he said lowly, “that little thing isn’t going to do anything.”

In a blink of an eye, you heard the snapping of metal and wood, your gaze going wide. He shot you a cocky grin. “Not anymore.”

You leapt back, gritting you teeth and tossing your now useless crossbow onto the earth beside you. Your hand moved in a blur as you reached down and pulled out your pistol from its holster, pointing it toward him. “Each and every one of these bullets is soaked in holy water,” you shouted, your hand cocking back the safety. “Don’t think I won’t shoot.”

Dream rolled over onto his stomach, his grin widening as he rested his chin on his hand. “Tell me,” he drawled, tilting his head, “do you really think you scare me?”

You ignored the shaking of your fingers. “I—I can and will shoot you.”

He laughed, an uncomfortable warmth wrapping around your gut. “Please, darling—I’ve been alive for longer than you can even fathom. As if you’d be the first to pin me down, let alone try to shoot me.” His eyes flashed crimson, and you felt your stomach drop. “I know all your hunter tricks and tactics, and believe me when I say they won’t work.”

Suddenly, he floated up off the ground, not changing his position whatsoever. In only a matter of seconds, he was hovering above you, blinking down at your shocked expression with mirth glimmering in his scarlet gaze. 

Of course he could levitate—what were you expecting?

“Second,” he said, “I did a lot of those things a long time ago, especially in human years. How long has it been?” He tapped his chin. “Probably centuries by now, which is like forever for you guys.”

You scowled at him, your pistol still pointed at him. “That doesn’t mean you haven’t caused any chaos recently.”

“That’s true!” he chirped, snapping his fingers. “But my more recent activities have been much more... tame in comparison to my golden years, don’t you think?”

As much as you wanted to shoot him right here and now, you also wanted to punch him in the face before you did. “Lives are lives, Dream!” you shouted. “Any more or less lost doesn’t make you any more redeemable.”

A chuckle slipped from his lips, flipping onto his back as he continued to hover in the cool, night air. “Oh, you humans and your morality. How entertaining you all are.”

There was only one word running through your mind as you glared at him, your jaw clenching tight as your rage only multiplied inside you. Monster, monster, monster.

His eyelids fluttered shut as he allowed himself to drift a fraction lower toward you. “Well, I do believe I should ask—who’s to say that I was the one who killed those people, anyways?”

Your heart stopped in your chest. “...what are you talking about?”

He peeked an eye open at you. “It’s not like I flew down from the sky and shot them all with a rifle, and it’s not like I just snapped my fingers and everyone dropped dead.” He hummed at the thought. “Just what kind of person do you take me for?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, your toes curling in your boots. “Stop distracting me—you’re dodging the question.”

“On the contrary,” he shot back without missing a beat, “I’d argue that you’re dodging mine, pet.” You could hear the laughter threatening to bubble up his throat as he spoke. “Do you really think I was the one purely responsible for all that destruction?”

You tried to ignore the slight tremble of your hands. “A-Aren’t you?” you stammered out. “You’ve started wars, detonated massive bombs, pushed people to their absolute limits. That stuff’s all your fault.” You gulped. “...isn’t it?”

For a second, he simply stared at you. Then, he burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh, how naïve you are, pet. Just what were you taught?” As he clutched his chest, he sunk a little lower toward you. “I didn’t fight on those battlefields. I didn’t press the red button. I didn’t kick men and women to the ground, pointing guns in their faces. But do you know who did?”

The cogs in your head began to turn as you wracked your mind over his words. Then, a wave of understanding slammed into you, and you lowered your pistol, your arm going limp at your side.

He couldn’t possibly mean...

“Ding, ding, ding! You guessed it.” His lips curled up into a delighted smirk. “Humanity did.”

Your eyes widened in horror. Oh, no.

The manic look in his eyes only grew. “Oh, yes.” He cackled at the look on your face, pointing at you. “I didn’t even have to lift a finger for you to all walk straight into your own demise! How pathetic is that?”

You took a shaky step back, your pistol dropping to the ground. “B-B—”

“B-B-B-But what?” he said mockingly, mimicking you in a high-pitched tone. “Did they tell you that I’m the big, bad wolf and that humanity is Little Red? Because they lied, pet. They lied to you.” He pointed his fingers together to form an X, tilting his head at you. “I’ll have you know that I’m not a liar. A trickster, perhaps. But a liar?” He narrowed his eyes. “Never.”

He bent down where he hovered in the air, waggling a finger in your face. “The truth is, darling, is that I didn’t do anything. I just stood in the room and watched. I might have pointed out that that one little duke was in perfect view, or that that one city only had so many people living in it, but I never took any lives myself.” He lightly tapped your nose, and you shrunk back as he crooned, “Humanity did all that, pet. They’re the real monsters to blame here.”

You wanted to sink to your knees and melt into a puddle on the ground. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Your mentor told you that Dream killed all those people—that he was the one to stab the knife in and twist it while pulling it out. She wouldn’t lie to you, never in a million years.

You wanted to believe him, you really did. But there was something about the freckles scattered across Dream’s face and the way the moonlight bounced off his eyes that made you realize.

He was telling the truth.

A few moments passed in silence as you stared long and hard down at your feet. You could feel Dream’s gaze boring into your figure, eyeing you up and down as you struggled to steady the beating of your heart. You half-expected him to mock you even more, but to your surprise, he didn’t. Maybe he was more human than you thought.

“Why?” you finally whispered after god knows how long.

When you were met with silence, you raised your eyes to meet his once more. “Why did you do it?” you said, louder this time. “Why did you interact with us at all if you wouldn’t even get your own hands dirty? If you knew it would only end like this?”

His eyes flashed, the tiniest hint of carmine swirling in their murky depths. “Isn’t the answer obvious, pet?” He flashed you a wicked grin. “I was bored.”

You blinked, realization slowly setting in. “Bored? Bored?” You were about to lose it, now. “You did all that just because you were bored?”

He shrugged. “Sure did. Chaos makes the world so much more interesting, don’t you think? If only good things happened, you would be bored, too.”

Your stomach churned with disgust. “You’re twisted.”

His smile only widened. “At least I’m having fun.”

All you could do was stare at him in defeat. This wasn’t right. There were more ways to have fun than to toy with humanity’s psyche and drive them to end people’s lives, even for a demon like him. There had to be something you could do. For some inexplicable reason you couldn’t bring yourself to name, a part of you almost wanted to help him.

I must be losing my mind, you thought. What person in their right mind would try to save a demon, let alone the most powerful one of them all?

You, apparently.

The cogs in your head began to churn, your mind bustling as it tried to come up with some alternative, no matter how silly. There had to be something he could do that wasn’t just this.

That was when it hit you.

“Why,” you started slowly, your voice coming out shaky and unsure, “don’t you have fun in a way that doesn’t destroy things... but creates them?”

He blinked lazily at you. “Hm?”

You swallowed, raising your chin. “You—you can have chaos, but it doesn’t need to be destructive.”

He raised his brows. “It doesn’t?”

Your gaze hardened. “Not at all.”

Just then, a flash of memory shot through your skull, and you gasped. “Say, Dream,” you began, “do you—do you know how the Greeks thought the universe came to be?”

You didn’t wait for him to answer. “First,” you said, “there was chaos. And from chaos, life was born. Gods and goddesses, plants and animals.”

“And humans,” he added.

You nodded. “And humans—like me.” You pressed a hand to your chest. “See? Chaos can create things. It doesn’t have to be so full of death and terror.”

While his expression was bemused, there was something sad about it that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “You do realize that that’s just a story that you human made up?” he hummed. “How the universe came to be is far more different.”

You blinked. “You were alive for that?”

He sent you a blank smile, the look in his eyes betraying nothing. “Maybe, maybe not.” Waving his hand, he flipped over onto his back, floating a fraction higher than before. “Point is, that kind of chaos probably doesn’t exist.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your side. “But it could,” you whispered.

He paused, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “What?”

You dug your heel into the ground, raising your voice. “It could! You don’t know that it doesn’t.” You took a step toward him, throwing your arms out. “Isn’t that fun? Isn’t that exciting? That there’s a whole other form of chaos you’ve never discovered before?!”

Your shout rang out into the quiet forest as Dream stared at you, his lips parted the tiniest bit. Rather than looking amused or arrogant, he almost looked... raw. Real. This might just the most vulnerable look you’d gotten of him all night.

Then, he burst into laughter.

Lowering your arms, you huffed at him, trying and failing to ignore the warmth blossoming between your lungs as you took in his wheezing face. “W-What?”

“Oh,” he gasped between peals of laughter, “what a treat you are, pet.”

Heat flashed across your cheeks as he wiped away a tear from his eye, his chuckles slowly dying down. His laugh should not sound as attractive as it was—he should not be as attractive as he was.

“Tell you what,” he said as he caught his breath once more, sending you a devilish grin. “If you tell me your name, I’ll tell you my real one.”

You stared at him for a moment, then your jaw dropped. “What?”

He stared at you, his emerald eyes glowing in the dim light. “You heard me.”

For a few seconds, you simply gaped, your brain still struggling to process his words. “But... but why?” you finally blurted. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

He hummed at you, flipping upside down. “What about it doesn’t make sense? It seems like a fair trade to me.”

Sputtering, you threw your hands into the air. “A demon’s true name is the source of their power! By handing it over to me, you’re basically putting your life in my hands—in a demon hunter’s hands.” Your face blanched at the mere thought. “A human name and demon name aren’t even remotely comparable.”

He blinked at you, slow and lazy. “I know.”

You didn’t understand—you couldn’t understand. “Then why are you doing this?”

He dipped his down toward you, his face hovering mere inches away from yours. “Isn’t it obvious?” he murmured. “You’re interesting. And rather cute, I suppose.”

You back-pedaled, your eyes wide as you stammered, “I-I could kill you if you told me your real name.”

He hummed, tucking his hand under his chin. “Perhaps, I suppose.” His lips curled upward. “But you won’t.”

Your hand squeezed around nothing. “You don’t know that.”

He chuckled again, and your heart skipped a beat in your chest. “Oh, yes I do, pet. Don’t act as though I can’t see right through you. I know you’re too wishy-washy to kill me off just like that.”

He tilted his head at you, his gaze brimming with mischief.  “That’s the thing about humans—you’re all so greedy. You all want something you don’t have, something that fuels you to acquire more. It might be power, or fame, or fortune, or love. It’s quite pathetic, really. But curiosity?”

Lowering himself, he pushed himself up until he was standing flat on the ground again, his hands sliding into his pockets. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and your mouth went dry. “Why, curiosity is your greatest flaw of all. You humans always want to know more, and I know that you want to know what I do next, whether you’re aware of it or not.”

You felt like your blood was going to tear right out of your veins. You hated how right he was, how well he seemed to know you. “You’re insane,” you said.

His smile was lazy and wide as he took a single step toward you. “Probably. But I’ve been alive for ages now, and you might be the most fun thing I’ve seen in millennia. I want to know your name, pet.”

This was crazy in every sense of the word. Any other demon wouldn’t even dare utter their true name aloud, even to themselves, yet here Dream was, bargaining his for yours.

You’d be an idiot not to tell him your name, now.

Swallowing, you didn’t dare look away from his piercing eyes. “It—my name is [Y/N].”

His lips parted in awe, and he stepped toward you once more. “[Y/N],” he repeated, slowly. Carefully, like a wolf stalking its prey. “Fascinating name. Haven’t met too many of those in my lifetime, shocking as it may be.” He paused for a moment, and you could have sworn his smile looked different. “It’s pretty.”

A rush of heat went shooting down your spine, your stomach doing a flip. Biting the inside of your cheek, you glared at him. “Well, stop dawdling! What’s your real name, Dream?”

For a long, excruciatingly slow minute, he only stared at you, scanning every inch of your face. You could feel anxiety begin to crawl up your throat as he did nothing more than watch the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed.

All of a sudden, he was standing in front of you, his hand tucked underneath your chin and lifting it upward. You barely had the chance to gasp before you felt a soft warmth pressing against your lips, light as a feather and tasting like ash and smoke.

Before you could even register what had just happened, he was gone.

You whirled, your face growing astronomically hot. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears again, but for an entirely different reason this time. You raised your hand to touch your lips while your cheeks burned furiously.

Did he just... kiss me?

Just then, a whisper ran along the shell of your ear, so soft that you almost missed it.

“My name is Clay.”

[felswritingfire]

*slams door*

I love your mafia AU Vil x reader

Can I ask for more ??

*Physically Vibrates*

Anon, thank you for my life-

Also if you want a continuation of this (or fluff, I'm just addicted to angst, because apparently I'm a DUMBASS EMO--) or anyone else feel free to ask! I fucking love this AU tbh

(Also no I'm not done with April Brain Rot, I'm just working on one that's like- it's turned big as FUCK- ;0;)

TW: violence; blood; strangulation; uncomfortable vibes; creepy men; cursing

The chime to your door rang loud and clear. A happy bounce to your step as you go to greet the first customer of the day (or Dol and Sul). “Good morning!” You say as you step out from your back room, rounding the corner of your little counter to see the two men who walked in. They’re both big, firm mouths and sharp eyes. Your brows furrow for a moment until you school your expression back into a professional and welcoming smile. “What can I do for you two?”

The one to the right offers you a closed eyed smile. You count the piercings that line the cartilage of his ears as he says: “ah, we were looking for something a little…” His hands trail over the purple fabrics you have. Tapping at a roll of fabric that was lavender, light beige roses outlined in a gold decorating the expanse of it. “Delicate looking.”

Seven. You count, frowning. “Delicate, hm? Anything in particular it’s gonna be used for? A dress? A suit? That might help narrow it down.” You stand next to him, skin pricking with the sensation of eyes boring into you. You fight the urge to glance back.

“A suit. For someone with delicate features. Almost like a porcelain doll.” The man says, his thumb rubbing the patterns of the fabric.

“Are they flashy? You seem to really like that particular one, sir.”

He lets out a laugh, something deep and wispy. You don’t like it. “No. It just reminds me of someone.”

You hum. “Any color you have in mind?”

“Red.”

“Red, huh?” You press your finger to your lips, turning around just to almost walk into the other man. You forgot about him. You gulped as you crane your head to look up at him. A shaky smile making its way onto your lips. “And you, sir? Are you looking for anything in particular?”

He tilted his head, his pupils almost being eaten up by the dark browns of his irises. His frown deepens-

You let out an ugly noise as the air is caught in your throat by the squeeze of a hand around your throat. The chill of his rings burning your skin as he raises you by your neck until your fingers dangle above the floor. “Why don’t we just deal with them?” The man hisses at the way your nails dig into his wrist and he squeezes harder. You can feel the slight bulge of your eyes and the blood rushing to your ears in a panic.

“No, no.” The other’s voice sang out, thin hands coming to wrap around your waist and squeezing. You felt dizzy and sick. “We need answers first- you can’t just expect someone to talk through brute strength all the time, hm?”

“Shut up. If we beat them- they’ll talk.”

“Not if you kill them first.” The one with piercings raises his eyebrows as he watches the way you claw at the ringed man; drool dripping out of the corner of your lips and your eyes squeezing shut, tears slipping from your lashes and onto your red cheeks. He shivered, mouth watering. “I can see why Schoenhiet likes them so much.” His finger traces down your spine and you flail your legs at the uncomfortable shiver that shoots through you.

“D- don’t t- tou- hhh-” you try to choke out only to have the ringed man tighten his grip, your words becoming an awful gurgle.

“Where’s Shoenhiet.” He demands, loosening his grip on your neck.

You gulp down saliva while sucking in air into your aching lungs. “I- I don’t know who- who that is!” Your voice goes high near the end as the grip around your windpipe tightens again.

“Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“I- I’m not-”

Your legs kick and you hear the way your bones creek against each other- one thought floating above the panic that floods your body: they can’t know- they can’t know where Vil is.

“You’re going to kill them.”

“They just need to be a little more force.” The ring man tightens his grip to an impossible tightness, his knuckles turning white and the skin around your throat turning a dark purple. A wheeze escapes your open mouth, the edges of your eyes turning blurring into darkness.

You suck in breaths, greedily heaving in huge gulps of air. You’re suddenly dropped to the hard ground, your body landing with a loud thud! And numbing pangs of pain jumping around your bones. You squeeze your eyes shut. A foot settling on your head.

I hope… Vil won’t come.

***

Vil bounced his leg, impatience and something… anxious settling at the bottom of his stomach. The night lights of the city blurred past him out of the window of the limo.

“Roi du Poison, is something bothering you?”

Vil’s eyes drifted to Rook, the hunter unusually stone faced as he waits for him to answer. “And what of you, Rook? You’re not your usual self.”

Rook lets out a quiet laugh. “You didn’t answer my question.” He claps his hands. “But to answer yours- I’m…” his face falls suddenly. “There’s something wrong, non?”

Vil raises his brow.

“I am worried about our tailleur chéri.”

“You too, it seems.” Vil says, his fingers pinching his chin.

Rook hums, cradling his crossed knee in his intertwined hands. His green gaze drifts down to his lap. “I’m afraid.”

Vil’s eyes widened looking up at Rook. “You are?”

He nods. “Dol and Sul… they haven’t heard from them all day.”

“They haven’t?” He could feel his face heat up in barely suppressed frustration.

“You cannot blame them, Roi du Poison. They have been busy with preparations. They’ve been worried sick.”

Vil grows quiet, swallowing, before he turns to the radio type device next to him and presses the red button. “Epel. I need you to take us to (Y/N) Boutique. Make it snappy.”

The radio crackles. “Got it.” Epel’s says. The limo lurching as it picks up speed. Vil could hear the blares of horns outside the car, but he couldn’t seem to care right now. His leg bounces quicker, the anxiety molten in his tummy.

***

The click of Vil’s heels are deafening as he walks into the boutique, Rook and Epel both flanking him. His eyebrows are drawn into a stern angle. He takes a deep breath and his fingers twitch: the sting of copper sinks deep into his senses. Blood.

Vil clenches his hands into fists and leans towards Rook. “Go find them.”

Rook nods, sinking into the shadows.

Vil gestures to Epel and the purple haired boy reaches behind him, pulling out a pistol and clicking off the safety. He stays close to Vil, stepping lightly as they go through the few aisles there was.

Vil’s nose crinkles at how… cold the boutique suddenly seemed. He hated it, this wasn’t your boutique- not the one that he came to adore as soon as he stepped in.

It was a day that started out awful: realizing he was out of his favorite shampoo and conditioner mid showering, Epel being a touch more unreasonable than normal (speeding, acting unruly every time he tried fixing his bow), and to top it off a rookie spilling his favorite smoothie on his favorite suit. He was seething by the time he was out for his evening walk when he stumbled upon the little shop. He had glanced at it a couple of times out of the limo, even on his morning jogs.

He didn’t know what compelled him to walk in, but when he opened the door and stepped in, he took a deep breath, the smell of vanilla and fresh fabrics flooding his senses. He closed his eyes at the warmth that enveloped him.

“Hello!” He turned to see you standing there, a warm smile on your face and you absolutely glowed in the afternoon light. “Is there any way I can help you?”

“Don,” Epel whispered. “The… the counter.”

Vil glanced at the corner of the polished counter: red glistening under the light from the street lamps outside. He grimaced, gaze trailing down the edge of the counter to the floor. Drips of red splattered across the tile in small specks and towards the back room. His eyes widened.

“Vil.” Rook stood in the doorway of the backroom, his eyes drooping into something mournful.

The man broke into a sprint, his long legs carrying him there in a few steps. Rook makes room for him, his hand coming to settle on Vil’s back.

The breath is knocked out of him when he lays his eyes on your broken body. Your arms were tied behind your back with ribbon. He didn’t miss the fact that they were purple- a light lavender with gold accents. The blood was smeared across your face, already caking with dry blood. Your hair disheveled, white dress shirt stained with red and blurry pink, and your neck a thick ring of ugly, dark bruises. Your mouth half agape as you're curled up on the floor in splatters of blood underneath you.

He takes trembling steps forwards. The click of his heels uneven and obnoxiously loud as he makes his way to you, his head pounding. There was no way… no way this was happening.

You had nothing to do with this. Nothing. Just an innocent bystander in the midst of things. One that he was waiting to spend more time with. One that was special.

He didn't even realize he was grinding his teeth until he saw your eyes flutter open. “Vil?” you mumbled through a bruised jaw. Your hands, heavy like lead, reached to touch his face. He caught your hand in his. “Vil! You’re… you’re ok…” You smile up to him the best you can, your eyes heavy and bleary with exhaustion.

“Who did this, my Sweet Potato? Tell me who.” Vil pressed you close to his chest, turning to gesture to Rook and Epel who nodded.

You hum, pressing your cheek into him and taking a deep breath. “You’re ok…”

Vil can feel the way the tears catch in his throat, an awful choking thing. He cleared his throat. “Who did this to you?”

“They kept… asking ‘bout you but I didn’t… say nothin’... Nothin’ at all.” You mumble against him, voice raspy like it had rocks stuck in your throat.

“Why? Why didn’t you? You didn’t have to do that.” He almost laughs at how he feels a happy blush warm your cheeks. He dips his head closer to your ear, his lips almost brushing against the shell of it as he speaks. “You’re not even mine, my Sweet Potato.”

A giggle leaves you, tired and quiet. “I… I can change that… very quickly, Mr. Schoenhiet.”

He laughs, pressing his soft lips against your blooded cheek as Rook and Epel rush back in with his medic, Dol and Sul, pushing behind him to see you, both clamoring with emotion.

[exovissa]

PSPSPSPSPS I’d love to hear about what details people might’ve missed on your benchtrio hands art and why you included them :o?

!!!!!!!!!!!absofuckinglutely i would

i think over the notes i've read (which is. all. i love the notes v much ty for everyone who left them <333) pretty much all of it's been covered but i'll put it in a list now -- got pretty long so it's under the cut lol (added my original sketch with the notes too, but it's p much just a less in-depth version of what i wrote anyway lol)

tubbo - - imo tubbo's got smaller hands, square palm and shorter blunt fingers that are good for heavier work, and crafting/welding, but less so for finer details (esp after the execution; would've lost some mobility in his fingers with that) - when the fireworks went off i think he would've raised his hands to protect his face more than anything, so the majority of scarring would be on his palm rather than the back - ranboo made tubbo's ring, it's got a band of gold, tiny diamonds but a bigger emerald bc according to google emeralds in a ring are supposed to like represent peace and healing. and you can actually find those items in minecraft. and also i like tubbo with green. <3

tommy - - tommy. feral little man. very scuffed hands, dirt under the nails, bruised knuckles w scabs, and a few longer scars here and there from getting nicked with a sword/axe. - got longer, rounded at the top fingers, and an overall pretty boney hand, completely average size for his height p much nimble, but still strong, good for fighting, both with and without weapons, perfect blend of tubbo and ranboo's hands - i was originally going to put a green ribbon around his wrist but i didn't draw enough of the wrist to include it, so pretend it's there in spirit <3

ranboo - - ranboo has the hands of a sickly victorian dude w tuberculosis. and claws. - palm isn't an awful amount bigger than average but very long fingers, good for picking up grass blocks :D nimble/agile and good for little intricate things, he helps tubbo out sometimes with stuff like that - got water burns along the inside of his hand, along the thumb and index finger from where he'd wipe his tears and they'd burn him. - got a reminder string to remind him to do. something. what it is, he, ironically, can't remember, but it's pretty anyway - tubbo made ranboo's ring!! netherite and gold, the netherite bc tubbo wanted to make sure it was like almost impossible to break, and also gold is pretty :) big and chunky - i had originally drawn ranboo's hands as. normal hands (w chipped black nail polish lol) without the claws but that was boring so i added the gradient and the spikey bits :D - his other hand would be a reverse gradient, black dipped in white -- @/rat-with-a-spork mentioned about the gradient possibly appearing after ranboo's death and ogughguhgugh i am in love with that idea. like stained!! but before death absolutely works for me too i just love gradients on hands/arms