#but I drew magic coming from both the gems

[maxladcomics]

Gemknight version of Gravel

He’s a very chaotic evil- so far his lore is that he throws any invading humans into random portals to other universes. He doesn’t care where they end up, but he might check the world he threw them into later to see if the human destroyed it or not.

Gemknight concept and AU belongs to @fluo-skeletons

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Enchanted helmet's

Hii guyss I hope you enjoy the second story of my Spooky Friday series, If you have any wicked ideas let me know :)

It was a crisp winter afternoon when Lando first walked into your shop. The bell above the door jingled softly as he stepped inside, shaking off the cold. Your shop was tucked away from the main streets, hidden like a gem in the heart of the city. Shelves lined with flickering candles, shimmering crystals, and polished minerals filled the space with a warm, soothing energy that made you feel like home. It smelled of lavender, sage, and something earthy—almost mystical.

You were behind the counter, arranging a set of amethyst stones when he walked in. His eyes scanned the room, curiosity flickering in them as they landed on the array of crystals. He was dressed in a dark winter coat, his cheeks slightly flushed from the cold. You’d seen plenty of customers come and go, but there was something about him that drew you in. It felt… different. He approached the counter, looking a little unsure but intrigued.

“I’m looking for some presents,” he said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “Something for my family. I don’t really know much about all this, though.” He gestured vaguely toward the candles and stones.

You smiled warmly, the kind of smile that reached your eyes, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. There was an instant connection—one that felt almost otherworldly. “Don’t worry,” you said softly, your fingers grazing a delicate rose quartz. “I can help you find something special.”

As you guided him through the different items, explaining their meanings and energies, there was an undeniable spark between you. It was like you had known him forever, even though you had just met. The conversation flowed effortlessly, your energies in perfect sync. Every glance, every small smile, felt charged with something deeper—something magical. It wasn’t long before he was making jokes, asking you about the more "mystical" items in the shop, and laughing at his own curiosity.

When he finally made his purchase—some candles and crystals that you had assured him would bring calm and positive energy—you both hesitated at the door. It was as if neither of you wanted the moment to end.

“Maybe I’ll stop by again,” he said, his voice light but his gaze lingering.

“You’re always welcome,” you replied, your heart fluttering as he left. And from that moment, something clicked between you both. It felt like magic—the kind that couldn’t be explained, only felt.

The next few weeks passed in a whirlwind of dates and long conversations, and before either of you knew it, you were officially together. You soon learned that Lando was a Formula 1 driver, living a life full of speed, fame, and pressure. But there was something else he didn’t know about you—you were a witch. Not the kind with a pointy hat and broomstick, but a real witch with a grimoire filled with spells, a connection to the earth, and the ability to manipulate energies in ways most people couldn’t comprehend.

When his racing season started, you wanted to help him in any way you could. Not just by being there for him emotionally, but by using your magic to protect him. Before every race, you secretly enchanted his helmet, whispering protective spells over it, weaving magic into the very fabric of his gear to keep him safe. Lando had no idea, of course. He just thought you had a little pre-race ritual, always sitting with your "diary" in the paddock, scribbling away as you focused on manifesting success for him.

In reality, it was your grimoire, filled with ancient symbols and words of power. You poured your energy into it before every race, silently chanting for his safety, for luck to follow him on the track.

It became a routine—your little secret. Lando didn’t question it, but he found comfort in knowing that you were always there, offering him luck in your own unique way. Sometimes, before he’d leave for the track, he’d kiss your forehead and ask, “You did the thing, right? The helmet thing?” You’d smile and nod, knowing that your magic was already working.

But then came the race you couldn’t attend. You were busy with a personal matter, and for the first time, Lando had to go without his enchanted helmet. You didn’t think much of it at first, but when the crash happened—when his car spun out of control and collided with Max’s—you felt a sharp pang of guilt. Though he walked away unscathed, you knew deep down that your magic had been missing that day. It wasn’t just a coincidence.

After that, everything changed. Lando never fully understood what you did or how it worked, but he began to rely on it. Every race, he would ask, “You’re gonna do the thing, right?” There was no more teasing or joking in his voice—just trust. He didn’t care about the details. All he knew was that when you enchanted his helmet, things went smoother. He felt safer.

From then on, it became part of your love story—this secret magic you shared. He didn’t need to understand it. He just needed you, your presence, your love, and the unseen power that flowed between you both. Together, you were unstoppable, blending love and magic into something truly special.

[essentiallyleaf]

day 14. underwater sex. with. kim chaeyeon.

1164 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, girlfriend chaeyeon, life is hard, sometimes i want to escape, underwater sex, a little jealousy, semi-public sex, breeding, do i use periods too much?, i’m writer, so if you find any bad takes in here, i blame the characters (and one of them is you, so who’s really at fault here?), terrible pacing, zero setup, just a bunch of fluff followed by some smut.

notes.

tararì tararà. inspiredly, leaf.

That sea blue van would be your home for the summer. You bought it second-hand after you got out of high school, painted it the least bland color you could find, packed it with your stuff and started driving. “Your stuff” included, in no particular order: a big boombox, an empty backpack, two plastic leis, a portable stove, a skateboard, a panda onesie and a giraffe onesie, a Rubik’s cube, a ukulele, Luffy’s straw hat, a My Melody trousse and an array of colorful carpets and blankets. (Oh, and all those “you”’s stand for youse, of course. Isn’t this language a peculiar one, where it’s all you’s, whether they come in ones or twos?)

You like Europe, Chaeyeon likes the sea. Sounds like a perfect match. She loves standing with her head and upper torso out of the window on the rooftop, and opening her arms wide, the feeling of the wind between her hair, on her face. It’s fast and it’s present, it’s right now. You love to just turn The Japanese House up when she does that, and watch the sun set, or rise, or just stay up at its zenith, or rest from its hard work while the stars embellish the night sky like shiny little white gems on deep blue velvet. You obviously can’t see her face from the driver’s seat, but you can picture it exactly in your mind, and it’s beautiful.

There was no set route, no bulleted list with places to visit, every night you went to bed not knowing where you’d head the next day. Just drove on seaside roads for hours until you found a nice spot, then parked the van, set up on the beach, and spent the day there. Reading coming-of-age books, playing go, debating Miyazaki (Ghibli Miyazaki, not From Miyazaki; you like the magic of Spirited Away, she likes the rawness of Grave of the Fireflies, she says as far as stories go, you can never beat humanity; for the other one, you both agree it’s Bloodborne and it’s not even close).

One day in early July, you were somewhere between Alicante and Cartagena, the midday sun was hot but still bearable (they say the low humidity helps), the beach fairly empty. You went to the kiosk to get Chaeyeon an orangeade, the girl behind you in line said hi with a courteous smile and started talking to you about vegan sunscreen. When you got back and gave her the drink, she said she wasn’t thirsty anymore.

“Did something happen?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” she answered while pouting.

“What’s this all about? Did I do something wrong?” You asked, confused.

“Nah, you probably did everything right, I mean, that pretty girl looked so over the moon as you were hitting on her.” A veil of jealousy coated her face.

“Hitting on her? Chae, that girl is as pretty as she’s uninteresting, you have no idea”

“Yeah?” She tried to hide her legitimate curiosity.

“I asked her what drew her to Spain and she was like, ‘I heard you can get really good tans’” Chaeyeon snorted. Not exactly your type.

You made aglio e olio pasta on the portable stove for lunch; your mom always used to put a little anchovy paste in it even though you didn’t like it, it was one of the many silly reasons why you thought you hated her in your early teens, now it’s somehow become a fond memory of her. After a couple hours of fairly silent crosswords and solitaires lying down in her blue one-piece swimsuit, you asked her:

“Wanna put our feet in the water?”

“M'kay. Not too long though, I gotta finish this sudoku”

Feet became knees became hips, and in two minutes flat the two of you were twenty-five meters away from shore, the water at the level of your nipples, which is the level of her chin. Not that you expected anything different, she loves the sea like that, she just can’t help it. You hugged and kissed her and one of your fingers found itself under the strap of her swimsuit.

“W-What are you doing?” She giggled, startled and excited.

“Sh-shh, no one can see us”

“You are such a horny dork”

The strap came off, the other followed soon after. As you pushed the top part of her one-piece below her boobs to fondle them, her laughs only made space for soft moans. One of your hands reached lower for her core, first above the blue fabric, then pushing it aside and starting to massage her lower lips. She mewled in your mouth as your thumb circled around her clit.

“Can you do this for me, baby?”

“Mmh-what?”

“Turn around”

You rotated her hips as she was now also facing the shore, only a few people in the water, none at close, or even moderate distance. You helped her bend over slightly, one hand at her shoulder, one around her waist as support. Her hands lowered your swim trunks and stroked your erection a couple times before guiding it to her slit.

“Can I?” you asked.

“Yeah, just fucking, don’t make it obvious”

“You should be the one worrying about that,” you teased as you pushed yourself in.

She whimpered at your penetration, the water simultaneously making the surfaces feel more slippery and the space in between them feel more stuffy. It was quite a different sensation, but certainly no less pleasing. As soon as you bottomed out in her, you pulled your hips back and immediately hit her ass with your pelvis again in a quick motion (she couldn’t contain a high-pitched whine, which fortunately didn’t overpower the sound of the waves building up and crashing onto the sand). Rinse and repeat.

Your palms quickly found themselves on her irresistible tits again as she looked for support with her hands behind your lower back and on your asscheeks. Seeing the two of you in that state surely wouldn’t have been flattering, but fortunately no one did. So you could continue to pound Chaeyeon’s pussy from behind as you groped her beautiful, soft mounds, stimulating her nipples with your fingers. Her moans getting louder and louder told you everything you needed to know.

“Where do you want it?”

“Fuh- Don’t waste it”

At those exact words, you emptied yourself deep in her, the walls around you tightening repeatedly as she hit her own orgasm. You wrapped your arms all around her as you gradually slowed your movements down, making sure her legs wouldn’t give up on her now.

“Can you piggyback me back there?”

“Not even pull your swimsuit back up? Such a slut, for real”

“Oh, I’m the slut? What about the guy who flirts with any vegan tan girl he sees?”

You stayed silent as pushed two fingers in her slit and gathered some of your cum before bringing them to her lips and letting her lick them clean.

“None of them get this”

-

footnotes.

feeling like driving now. peacefully, leaf.

[tinyproprodigy]

"Letter to you"

Julian Devorak x reader (NB) (🥀)

Julian Devorak sat by the riverside, the gentle flow of the water a soothing backdrop to his whirling thoughts. The weight of his responsibilities as a doctor and magician in the bustling city of Vesuvia seemed to bear down on him, and the riverbank offered a rare moment of solitude.

With a weathered journal in hand, he poured his frustrations onto the page, the scratch of his quill punctuating each furious scribble. The worries that kept him awake at night, the doubts that crept in every time he tended to a patient, the loneliness that clung to him like a shroud – they all spilled forth in a torrent of ink.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Julian tore a page from his journal. With deft fingers, he folded the parchment into a small boat, running his thumb along the creases to smooth them. For a moment, he stared at the tiny vessel, a physical manifestation of the burdens he longed to cast off.

Taking a deep breath, he placed the paper boat into the river's gentle current, watching as it bobbed and drifted away, carrying his worries with it. A sense of lightness washed over him, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Days turned to weeks, and Julian found himself returning to the riverbank, time and time again. Each visit, he would write, fold, and release another paper boat, the simple ritual becoming a cherished respite from the chaos of his life.

Then, one day, something caught his eye – a tiny object drifting towards him, carried by the river's flow. As it drew nearer, Julian's heart skipped a beat. It was a folded parchment, not unlike the boats he had sent forth, but this one bore the unmistakable marks of having been handled and written upon.

With trembling hands, he plucked the paper boat from the water and unfolded it, his eyes widening as he read the words scrawled across the page. They were words of comfort, of understanding, as if written by a kindred spirit who had borne witness to his innermost thoughts and fears.

From that day on, Julian found himself engaged in a silent exchange, sending his worries downstream and receiving solace in return. The handwriting was elegant yet warm, the words a balm for his weary soul.

With each passing day, Julian felt himself growing attached to this mysterious correspondent, their empathy and insight becoming a lifeline in his tumultuous world. He found himself eagerly awaiting their responses, savoring each carefully crafted phrase as if it were a precious gem.

Yet, part of him hesitated to take the connection further. What if meeting the person behind the words shattered the magic they had cultivated? What if their bond, forged through the ephemeral language of the river, could not withstand the harsh light of reality?

Julian's heart ached with the desire to know them, to gaze upon the face of the one who had become his dearest confidant. But fear held him back, the fear of losing the one thing that had brought him solace in his darkest hours.

Then, one fateful day, another paper boat appeared, carried by the gentle current. Julian's hands shook as he unfolded it, his eyes scanning the familiar script.

"Dearest Julian, our connection has brought me more joy than I can express. If you are willing, I would be honored to meet you in person, to put a face to the kindred spirit I have come to cherish."

Julian's breath caught in his throat, his heart thundering in his chest. This was the moment he had both longed for and dreaded, the crossroads where their bond would either deepen or dissolve.

Swallowing hard, he made his decision.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the riverbank, Julian waited with bated breath. Doubts flickered through his mind like

fireflies in the gathering dusk. What if he had misread the situation? What if his correspondent was disappointed by the man behind the words?

Then, he saw a figure approach, silhouetted against the fiery colors of the setting sun. As they drew nearer, Julian's doubts melted away, replaced by a sense of awe that stole his breath.

Before him stood a vision of beauty, their features both striking and warm, their eyes shining with an intelligence and empathy that Julian recognized instantly. A gentle smile graced their lips as they held out their hand in greeting.

In that moment, Julian knew that his fears had been unfounded. This was no mere correspondence, no fleeting connection destined to fade. This was the beginning of something profound, a bond forged not just through words but through a true understanding of one another's souls.

As he took their hand, feeling the warmth and solidity of their touch, Julian felt a sense of rightness settle over him. No longer would he face the world alone, for he had found a kindred spirit, a partner to walk beside him on the journey ahead.

The river's gentle murmurs seemed to echo their unspoken promise – that no matter what challenges lay before them, they would navigate the currents together, buoyed by the love and understanding they had discovered in the most unexpected of places.

[slightlyhopefulromantic]

a return to the monsters and mommies au designs, this time properly lined and in color! :D posted in the middle of the night just like last time though because i have problems <3 there are some small changes to these designs, but for the most part i was pretty happy with them so this was mostly just to give myself a color reference for them all lol

gonna ramble about small decisions i made below the cut, but its not necessary at all to understanding the designs! just wanna dump my thoughts somewhere :P

for the most part, the kids' designs are the same as i do them for normal canon, but there are some small differences. i've never really done a proper reference for their kid designs either though, so i guess no one would even notice LOL

freeman family: well, firstly - nick's last name is freeman in this au LOL but its easier to refer to him as nick close so people know who i mean as opposed to nicholas foster. usually, i draw nick close with blue hair (i think he goes through a range of colors, but blue is my default), but i do this because he does it to honor morgan. since she is alive here, instead, his default is pink because thats his favorite color to dye it! morgan and nick both have various bead jewelry because i like to have the headcanon that morgan is really into pony bead jewelry; this is also why all of my nick and nicholas designs have the same trans pride necklace, morgan made it for him :] both nick and morgan wear glenn's old clothes, both of them are wearing his shirts in this piece. aaand morgan has subtle heterochromia as a reference to the split timeline! she always has it, it doesnt just magically happen or anything, but its just a small nod to that.

wilson family: its real important to me that grant got his dad's exact coloration except for his gray eyes, which are all carol. why is this important? i dunno! its just interesting to me. also, carol doesnt usually leave her top buttons undone, but upon entering the forgotten realms, she unbuttons it because otherwise her shirt will pop open while she's doing things (to be honest, as a person with a larger chest myself, her shirt probably still pops open but it does help-!). usually i draw grant with a gay pride necklace, but since he doesnt come out pre-forgotten realms in this au, i tragically had to drop it. i miss my rainbow grant. please come home, baby.

oak-garcia family: i always forget to do mercedes's tattoos in my sketches because tbh i never know exactly what to give her. but! but. this time i just went for it. these tattoos arent necessarily set in stone, but i think theyre cute. the tattoo hidden by her skirt is an oak leaf for henry :] her gem necklace is also the same color as his eyes! her skirt is supposed to be, like, tie-dye or maybe more bleach washed, but i dunno how to draw that so whatever. the twins are, like, 100% the same as usual, i just gave sparrow a pink bead necklace instead of the multi-colored necklace i use for my default canon design lol. also, i think i drew the twins slightly too tall here, which is funny because theyre the only ones who are notably shorter than their mom HDFJKGHK

stampler family: i struggled a lot with what colors to give samantha, because i wanted her to have a bright color palette but not anything garish or patterned. originally she was gonna have a white shirt, but then i realized that would make it so all the moms had white shirts and i just couldn't have that LOL so i ended up landing on red for her! it matches with terry junior, so i thought that'd be cute :] terry's design is probably the most different from my default for him? which still isn't a lot but i swapped his dark blue flannel for a black undershirt instead. i cannot explain why i did this. it just felt right in the moment. i gave him a sweet revenge shirt instead of the usual black parade shirt i give him because... well. if you know, you know. and finally, terry gets a little concert admission bracelet!! i always do that, but i just wanted to point it out because i think continuing to wear an admission bracelet for ages after a concert is a very teen thing to do. i always felt so cool doing that in high school hehe

[ganonfan1995]

DSAU Truth -

“There’s no point in lying anymore,” she spoke, rawness lacing her voice. “I have no way to return home.”

Gans’s brows knit together as he looked down at her, a quizzical expression on his face. “What do you mean?”

Zelda averted her gaze, hanging her head low as if she bore a great shame he was not privy to. The fire illuminated the underside of her face, the light dancing in hues of amber and gold against her skin. Her lips parted, cracked from the dry heat of the day and wind-weathered from their daytime adventures.

“I am not who I said I was,” she revealed, the first truth, though Gan had already guessed as much. “I come from a future,” she continued, the second truth, though it felt less believable than the first. “A future in which we are bound by hatred, and no matter who wins and who loses, we both take lives as a toll.”

The final truth felt like something out of a nightmare. Gan shook his head, struggling to make sense of Zelda’s story. As she spoke, she revealed something hidden on her person—a gem, small and claw-like, nestled neatly in her palm. A quiet hum resonated from it, so soft that it could easily be drowned out even in the stillness of the night.

“This—this is the secret of the Zonai. It’s a dangerously powerful artifact; it allowed me to tap into power I didn’t even know I had.” Zelda’s expression turned serious. “When I found it, it fell loose from your withering body. And when you found it—” She paused, a darkness washing over her. “You stole it from someone close to me.” She clutched the gem tightly.

 Gan scoffed, twisting his face in utter disbelief. “You can’t possibly expect me to believe that?”

“Can’t you?” she barked back, her knuckles turning white as she clutched the precious stone tightly within her fist. “You truly can’t remember a single thing of what you’ve done, what you did, what you will do?”

“Zelda—” He chuckled incredulously. “It’s not that I don’t want to believe you; it’s just—you're admitting to the impossible, to magic—time travel? And to accuse me of murder?” He drew in a breath. “Is that why you’re here? To monitor me? To stop me from—what? I don’t even know.”

Zelda froze, but her eyes remained trained on Gan.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked. “You are, aren’t you?”

“It’s different now,” she said, her voice as quiet as a mouse. She shrank into herself, innocent, as if she were a delicate animal and he a violent, ruthless creature ready to pounce and devour her whole. “I’ve seen that you’re good—”

“Good?” He raised his voice, not quite a shout but enough to cut through the silence that hung around them. “Good? I’m good? I’m a good person? As in: not evil?” Gan stood up and paced to the side; Zelda flinched back.

“I didn’t mean it that way. I just—”

“What way could you mean it? Zelda, I trusted you. I took you into my home, I shared my life with you, my family, everything… and only now do you admit to being some envoy of the future, come to watch over me like some grand justiciar to make sure I don’t—I don’t even know… become evil, commit atrocities? Are you listening to yourself?”

“I am!” she shouted back, mustering her own courage to stand tall. “I am listening to myself. I’m tired of everyone around me disregarding what I have to say. You have no idea what I’ve been through, what I’ve seen, what I’ve lost.”

“You’re right; I don’t know. I don’t know anything about you, Zelda. How could I? You keep yourself so closed off. This is the first time I feel like you’ve been honest with me.”

Zelda watched as he spoke; his aureate gaze glistened in the low light as his eyes welled with tears.

“I’ve had nightmares,” he finally admitted. “I watched as the moon bled while my country was consumed by sand and lost to time.”

Zelda’s eyes widened, and a small gasp escaped her lips. “The blood moon…”

Gan’s attention snapped to Zelda as she took small, shaky steps toward him.

“My mothers are witches. I’ve been plagued by prophetic dreams my entire life. Somehow, I convinced myself that my nightmares were never more than just nightmares.”

“Gan,” Zelda extended a hand and looped a finger through his own. “When I used this stone, I used it to unwind time. I brought myself, as I was in your near future, back to our current present. I undid time on your body. Perhaps it was wrong of me to assume that you had kept those memories with you—but…”

He tilted his head and pulled her hand gently into his own, slowly.

“In your dreams, have you ever seen the sunrise?” Her voice was so genuine, so gentle.

Gan shook his head.

“I was born the princess of a land that held your country as a vassal. Gerudo, as I knew it, was a desert land populated by a small town of warriors. In their history, an ancient king had betrayed them, stolen the power of the gods, and become a demon. Our fairy tales recounted this history—stories for children of the demon king, Ganon. My godmother was a Gerudo woman; she was always anxious about this history. When the fairy tale of Ganon proved to be true, she took it personally and sought to end his terror.”

“Zelda, that’s—”

“I know how it sounds, but it’s true, Gan.” She pleaded, with urgency in her voice. “I don’t know why, but when I first saw you as a man, it was—” She froze again; something wasn’t right. No… When she saw him as a man, he was a king, no different from Rauru or even her own father. “You had an army, warriors at your side… and…”

“But we had to protect our people. You were going to—” Conflict painted her expression, and she tightened her grip on his hand. “But you— But Rauru…”

Horror, reality, and an uncomfortable truth ran through her body, chilling her to the core.

“Your country was already a desert. There was no Turmali, no cities, no lake, no sea…” She covered her mouth in shock and disbelief. “Gan, I think your dreams could be memories… And if that’s true, I’m afraid something awful is going to happen.”

[sleepy-timaeus]

been in a steven universey mood lately. ive also got an au brewing in my head. steven + the gems & humans in the world of the owl house (my phone changed it to "owo" before i could even put the 'L' 😭 i hate this new autocorrect update bro).

i dont want it to be an exact 1:1 of everyone fitting other's roles, but a few of them will be (like no one is taking amity's role of antagonistic to friendship to romance, but connie will be in luz' starting role of a human coming into the demon realm, and i do plan to have a golden guard & someone in lilth's place) and im contemplating having pink and rose be separate characters (for Reasons ™ 👁️). and as of right now, there's gonna be some time travel shenanigans in the backstory of the crystal gems, bc it's necessary for how steven is born 😭 (i had a very specific idea of what i wanted steven to be mixed with & how the crystal gems are connected to rose... do u see where this is headed??!)

anyway. this is why i drew steven with pointy ears in the left doodles lol. those were based on screenshots from the show & i re-found most of them. funnily enough, i couldn't find the ref for the doodle i liked the least 😭 it has disappeared !!

ty for reading my somewhat vague rambling. i hope to start writing soon but ya boy gotta iron out some concepts n stuff. i could name the au something that's a clever mashup of both show's names, but im not sure yet 🤔 steven's house, universe house, the universe owl, the owl universe, the gem house, the crystal house, steven's coven, steven's witches & demons...

yeah. i'll think of something eventually. also open to suggestions this—the su x toh au about a human girl meeting a magical boy, who's probably gonna have some horns (similar to his 'corrupted' form in su: future)

my references and some progress pictures.

[steam-powered-chaos]

Chapter 12 (Frozen Storm)

Orion sighed, turning his back to M’eudail, slipping his sword into its holster, attaching it to his belt, pulling out a flintlock pistol and a dagger, pausing to stroke his thumb gently against the red gem in the handle, before pushing them both into his belt and turning back to M’eudail, his eyes shadowed from the rising of the blue moon. He pulled his coat onto his shoulders, tensing when M'eudail touched his arm with a soft expression in his eyes, filled with pity and pain. "Orion... I'm sorry." Orion looked at him, kneeling down and cupping his face in his hands gently, fingers drifting over the smooth, cold scales of the mer's cheeks, before hugging him, shaking his head. "You have nothing to be sorry about M'eudail... Come on, we're going to save your husband." The captain scooped M'eudail up, shivering as the mer's cold tentacles flailed and gripped around his waist for support, carrying him out onto the deck where the cool night air hit them both. The crew milled around, teeming with anticipation at the thought of a good bit of violence, and Orion looked up when his shoulder was tapped, eyes softening at the sight of his first mate. "Captain, I'll take care of the crew whilst you're gone... take care, please." He nodded, calling out his goodbyes to the crew, fully aware he may not make it out alive, before his eyes met familiar black ones. "Sunny Bashra." He shook her hand firmly, and the two shared unspoken words, before the captain lowered M'eudail into the water as the three set off, the mer drifting silently through the water, the human walking in the side-streets and alleys, and Orion, high above, walking across the roof, as they moved to the procession.

Helio was at the head, beside a stranger Orion didn't recognise, from the hood covering his face, and some of the crew, the ones that still supported the corrupted captain, carrying Skygg in a water tank, who lay curled up at the bottom, silent except for the occasional, mournful and tragic wail to the sky, and Orion noticed the way in which M'eudail tensed at the sound, looking ready to spring at the man harming his lover. The three continued to follow silently, as the oil lamps were turned on, as the festival began, and the captain hesitated. Could he really go back here? To the place which had only held suffering for him, to the place where his life had ended? But then again, he thought to himself, this was also the place where he became who he really was... A pirate, through and through. He shook his thoughts away, realising he had almost lost the trail in his pondering, skipping across a few roofs to catch up again. Confused crowds parted in the streets to let the group through, gawking curiously at Skygg as he hid his face behind his tail, and the stranger and Helio made their way to the main stage, right in the town square. The stranger said something to Helio that none of the group could quite catch, although it quickly became clear when Helio shoed the mayor off the stage, staring blankly into the shocked crowds, swaying on his feet slightly. Orion's eyes flicked towards M'eudail, where he had dove into a barrel to watch, shaking with anger, and then to Sunny, who had concealed herself in an alleyway, slowly drawing her sword. The stranger tapped the microphone, chuckling. "Is this thing on? Very good.. Now, everyone, you see this man before you! Once a proud, loyal pirate, turned corrupted by this merman's song! This alone, shows the danger magic has upon our society." The crowd muttered to each other, though Orion noticed with dismay some nods in agreement. He went to step forward, but paused himself, not wanting to ruin the plan now that they had come so far.

"However, my people, I know the cure to this man's ailment! The blood of this mer will cure him, and blood I shall give him, with this knife!" The stranger drew the blade, the ruby in the hull glinting in the moonlight, as a shadow passed over the rising moon. As he laughed, there were... cheers from the crowd, but not only that, but booing too, some having noticed the clouds slowly covering the moon, taking it as a warning from the goddess they were supposed to be celebrating. The stranger drew his pistol, shooting those who voiced their displeasure the loudest, pocketing it once again, as the cheers rose from the increasing fear. He grinned, and Helio silently reached into the tank, lifting Skygg by the tail and holding him up as he struggled to breath without the water's comfort around him. Then Orion gave the signal, lunging down from the roof and yelling a battle cry. M'eudail grabbed the nearest men, throwing them into the surrounding ocean, while Sunny kicked and slashed at anyone who tried to hold her down, and the captain made his way to the stage. He drew his gun silently, pointing it at the stranger, then at Helio, before he stopped. Helio's eyes, despite being tinted with a greenish sheen, still had that sad, desperate look to them, looking so familiar to the man who Orion used to- no- continued to love, and he began to lower his gun, sharing a silent look with the terrified merman at the front. "Kill him." He froze at the sound of the order from the stranger, and didn't have time to move before Helio jumped on him, holding him down and pressing his thumb deep into the still healing wound on his throat, as Orion struggled to push him off. He hit him with the back of the gun, and the two men stayed locked in the other's embrace, lips barely inches apart, before Orion let out a sob, his resistance faltering from the pain in his neck. Helio grinned, lifting the knife, and the captain realised that it was his anniversary gift, kept despite the pain the two had caused each other. As the corrupted captain stared down at his former husband, ready to drive the killing blow, he stopped, a tear slipping down his cheek and onto Orion's, mingling their tears together.

He shook his head, dropping the knife, before he was shoved aside by the stranger, kicking him in the chest and going to stab Orion in the heart, and Orion realised his hood had fallen. Thomas Stormturner stared at Orion with disgust, malice, and pure joy, and the two brothers could only stare at each other for a moment, one fearful, the other prepared to kill. Orion finally got an answer to his question, the answer he never got from his mother. His brother hated him, and now he was going to kill him. He squeezed his eyes shut, gasping in pain as his brother forced them open again, hissing lowly. "Eyes open, dearest brother," He spat, "I want to see the full fear on your face when I kill you, and I want to see the light drain from those pretty eyes of yours.." He was torn away from Orion, as Helio grabbed Thomas, holding him down by the shoulders as he struggled and kicked. Skygg was laying on the stage, trying to crawl back into the tank. His throat has been cut slightly, in the confusion, and Orion noticed the blade driving into Helio's heart. He barely noticed the ragged scream of grief escaping his throat, as he could only watch in horror as Helio slumped, being pushed onto his back as his heart was cut out, ruby red and still pumping, lifted high by Thomas while he fled with Helio's heart in his hand, and Orion continued, to scream, not having noticed the blood slowly gushing from his leg where he had been slashed.

Orion Stormturner fell unconscious, leaving the battered, confused, but relieved to see that Skygg was now safe, three to carry him back to his ship in a hurry, leaving Helio's empty body behind to be collected after.

Thomas retreated onto his own ship, holding the burning hot heart in his hands, feeling how it continued to pump without its body, before he pushed it into a jar, chuckling, as he sailed away. He was victorious, and had gained a power far stronger than anything a mer's death could have given him.

After all, the heart of a god was not something to be trifled with.

[thrandilf]

I'm willing to read most shadowpeach fics even if they are pretty ooc (I have a limit of ooc, but it's pretty wide) but fics I can't read are ones where macaque is just now in modern times meeting wukong. Like I'm sorry, but macaque would be a completely different person if he never met wukong. So wildly different that a macaque acting like macaque breaks my suspension of belief, and a macaque acting like he should in that scenario isn't my macaque anymore by any metric (might as well be an OC)

I sat here for a bit wondering how to say that I haven't actually found any Shadowpeach fics I like that I haven't written myself without sounding horridly self absorbed/picky but it's where I'm at

To be clear, I've only been in fandom for a few months and I haven't looked all that hard, I'm sure out of the 8k or so on ao3 there are absolute gems, just haven't found em. I'm open to recs! but I'm in fandom for characterization and specific dynamics which drew me to the characters in the first place, so you've got the biggest lead on me for not being picky/coming off as judgy, anon hahaha

In that circumstance you laid out I'd also wonder who Wukong would even be. He's influenced by his past relationships just as much, even if he isn't as overt about it as Macaque/he's had a wider range of influence since Macaque is more Wukong centered than vice versa, it would still be Different.

Fic of them in early or pre brotherhood would be really interesting! Or in this AU- a Macaque full out reincarnation would be fascinating if LBD hadn't brought him back. Like, that could be interesting, but their history is such a core part, even as obscured as some of it is to us right now, that I'd have a hard time trying to untangle it and make it feel like them. It would still have to be History on Wukong's end for me or too many pieces are gone from the jenga tower yfm

I'm also someone who writes canon compliant or adjacent stuff Most of the time, where I like to extrapolate and kind of take the edges of the picture and expand, like a degree removed from canon/plausible, but not putting people in totally different worlds or altering major canon events. Hell, I don't even make OCs for fics unless my arm is twisted by necessity (my novel length tdp fic has some OCs because I needed more characters for the mains to meet in the world/filling in vacuums left by foreign leaders being killed, said OCs are still as minor as I can make them while being hopefully interesting and serving their purpose)

However, I know that a majority of fandom really loves totally new AUs in other worlds/making OCs (LMK fandom is especially OC heavy which was a surprise to me) and that's its own writing exercise/source of fun, it's just one I've never had a desire to read or write. Canon for me is fun to explore more of canon potential, not to fuel something seemingly unrelated

As I said, I'm picky. I typically don't even read modern AUs for fantasy characters, it just so happens that LMK works so well that I love the futuristic world and get my magic meets technology kicks in canon, otherwise I wouldn't have anything written in remotely modern day within the past few years. LMK got me back into it

So I hear you about characterization/I probably sound like I live a stifled existence but I just thrive by being as close to canon as I can while playing with it, my most fun is different from others on the fan spectrum

And all this isn't to say that I feel like an expert in characterizing Macaque and Wukong- they're tough cases to crack. They're challenging. They both have their facades and levels of jadedness and sincerity. LMK requires flat out studying to really nail anyone I've found, even characters I feel more confident in writing- and that challenge is part of the draw for me too!

[mx-lamour]

10 - Animal

“You will have to be convincing,” Strahd said. He retrieved a small amulet on a chain from his pocket and held it out to Alek. “With this, they should be unable to detect what you really are.”

Alek took the chain and draped it around the back of his neck, to work the small clasp where he could still see it. He pulled the amulet around and lightly tugged the front of his shirt, so that the gem would fall into the open slit and lay hidden against his chest. “A handsome devil?” he suggested, knowing full well what Strahd had meant.

“A ghoul,” Strahd agreed flatly.

“You didn’t call me here just to give me jewelry, though. What else is there?”

“As I told you, I sensed another interloper pass through the Mists. I want you to greet them. Gain their trust. They might be willing to part with more information about themselves and how they came to be here.”

Alek nodded. “And you think this will really do the trick?”

“It is working now. If I didn’t know better, I would think you were an ordinary man.”

A look passed between them, in which they both remembered Strahd’s appetite for human blood. If he did not know better, Alek might seem a bit… appetizing.

“How would you have me do it?” Alek wondered. “Local folk are not exactly friendly these days. If I approach the outsiders, that alone might seem suspicious.”

“I thought of that,” Strahd said. His eyes passed over Alek head-to-toe. With his lean stature and fair coloring, the man hardly looked the part of a Barovian local—because, in truth, he was not. Strahd told him as much. “That could be enough to put them at ease. However, I have an idea that might make them come to you, if they are anything like past adventuring types.” Thieves, he meant, but ones who rationalized their raids with an erratic sense of vigilante justice, the morality and particulars of which often seemed to be decided on a whim.

Alek would meet them on the road, Strahd explained, where they would catch him in a vicious battle, beset by wolves. A wry grin crept onto Alek’s face with the telling. With any luck, the adventurers would leap into the fray to save him, and then, with little prompting, they would probably absorb Alek into their rank, themselves. They would want a companion who knew the lay of the land—especially if that companion had also proved himself a fine enough swordsman.

“Buy them a drink,” Strahd said. “Tell them you have come from a faraway land and were trapped here by the Mists.”

Alek chuckled. “It would not be a lie.”

“Precisely.”

“So, you’ll set your pups on me,” he prompted. “That won’t be an enticing prospect for them.” The wolves did not exactly enjoy Alek’s ghoulish scent. He was an unnatural predator, and they seemed to be acutely aware of the fact. They often shrank back, whining in his presence. It took a lot of coaxing to settle them down when Strahd wasn’t there to soothe their minds from within. It was sufficient protection against such an errant wolf attack. Only those few which Strahd kept in the castle like dogs seemed to tolerate Alek; the rest were frightened of him.

“That is why I will be there with them,” Strahd said. With that, his form began to shift. The ability had been unsettling to Alek in the early years of their entrapment—but so had everything. Witnessing these contortions of magic had become almost second-nature to him since then. He watched as Strahd’s face drew into a long canine muzzle and he dropped to all fours, his clothes transforming into the thick black fur which now covered his body from nose to tail.

The wolf-Strahd shivered, as if shaking off either rain or dust from his pelt. Alek was sorely tempted to reach out and stroke the silky fur, but he refrained. Strahd’s lips pulled back, baring a gruesome set of strong, sharp teeth. He snarled gently at Alek.

“I see,” Alek said in good humor, noting the aggressive posture. He drew his sword from its scabbard. Shifting his feet into an easy fighting stance, Alek reached his arm out to tap the tip of his blade against the dry courtyard grass, then lifted it again into a ready position. His eyes narrowed. “Come on, then.”

The dark beast slowly circled him, a thunderous low growl in his throat. He dipped forward with one paw every so often, snapping at Alek with powerful jaws, searching for an opening. Alek shifted his stance with impeccable footwork, swordpoint held steadily between them. It was a dance they were well acquainted with, though usually when they sparred like this, Strahd was armed the same as Alek, advancing on his own two feet.

Strahd lunged at Alek's leg. Alek stepped back with a twist, slapping the flat of his blade against Strahd's flank with practiced control. They did this maneuver several times. Strahd attempted to find new ways to throw Alek off-balance, to varying degrees of success. Then he stalked out of melee range. Alek sank further into the bend of his knees.

Strahd lifted his head, and a baleful howl issued from deep within his chest. It seemed to reverberate off the facets of Mount Ghakis itself, pricking up the hair on Alek's arms, making an echo chamber of his ribs, all his senses sharply piqued.

Some of the echoes were the answering call of other wolves. Alek's off hand went to his dagger.

The sleek black animal in the courtyard met his gaze again, a flash of red light in his eyes. Alek could imagine Strahd's subtle smirk on the wolfish face.

“So that was just foreplay, was it?”

A castle door burst open behind him. Three of Strahd's favorite dogs leapt out and charged across the lawn.

It was a completely different game, one careful opponent versus three hairy berserkers. Alek tried to avoid doing them any great harm—it would only serve as something Strahd might hold against him later, if he felt the urge—but the wolves failed to show him the same courtesy. They scratched and snapped at him. The exertion was enough to kick Alek’s dormant lungs into order, churning air like a bellows to feed the fire in his limbs while he dodged and blocked and carefully parried.

Then others came.

A hunting party of seven or more wolves streamed in through the gate and descended on Alek. He tried to hold his own, but they swarmed him. One took a running jump and barreled into his chest, knocking him to the ground. In a fleeting moment of terror, he thought Strahd would allow them to rip him apart.

Instead, having finally felled their prey, the wolves ceased their ferocious act. They clambered over Alek, crowding him with clumsy paws and lolling tongues, nuzzling his injuries and bowing playfully, wagging their tails. It was nearly as dangerous; ten large dogs could still trample him.

Alek heard Strahd laughing beyond them. When he approached, standing tall in his man form again, clapping lazily for the performance, the pack parted to let him through. He took one look at Alek's scrapes, the row of claw marks on his forehead oozing blue-black gore—the illusion made the blood seem fresh and red, but Strahd and his wolves could still smell the difference—and attempted to stifle the rich sound.

“You did quite well,” Strahd said by way of apology, offering his hand.

“Thanks.”

Strahd caught the spark in Alek's pale eyes a half-second too late—It was the spark of opportunity. Alek grabbed his hand and pulled hard.

Strahd sprawled bodily on top of him.

It was Alek's turn to laugh. Amid the surrounding pack of wolves, he locked an arm around Strahd's neck and caught a pointed ear between his teeth. He was forced to let it go only because Strahd's hand had trapped his hair against the ground.

“Alek,” Strahd chastised him.

Alek grinned, still catching his breath. He let his head fall back against the grass. “Got me riled up,” he retorted. “Did you mean for them to kill me?”

“Are you dead?”

Alek snorted. “I know a way that you could make up for it.”

“You enjoyed yourself.”

“That's no excuse.” His eyes roamed over Strahd's face, settling softly on his mouth.

Strahd had become more… amorous, after the change. Whether it was the enhanced power in his body overall, or the often lonely quiet of the castle, or some combination of things, Alek couldn't be sure—maybe Strahd had always been this way, and it was just that he had not allowed himself to act on base desires. Whatever the case, Alek liked it. This part of it. It was a good look for Strahd, he thought, this kind of freedom.

Strahd leaned down obligingly and kissed him.

A wolf near their heads whined and yipped abruptly. Others joined it.

“I'm not going to eat him,” Alek objected, attempting to shoo them away.

“I assumed that was your intent,” Strahd purred, his lips ghosting over Alek's jaw.

“Not the way they seem to think.”

Strahd hummed absently in response. He snapped his fingers and their ears pricked up. Within their minds, almost as though the thoughts were their own, the wolves became aware of praise, that they had been successful in their hunt and would not perish, but that Strahd as their leader would have first pick of their prey. The wolves quieted and settled down onto the lawn around the men to wait their turn for supper.

They would not be taking part in this particular feast, however.

* * * [Ao3 Collection] [prompt list by @syrips]

[sdyuteiaok]

Man, from a jump-off-a-cliff 0-3 to nearly a 7-0 today. Just lost one game where my opponent just never ran out of fuel, just as I thought I'd stabilized, but I drew into two lands in a row when he managed to assemble a creature to cross the finish line past my 0/5. Can't complain about the games, they were all solid, and thoroughly interesting--I've been thinking about them all day. This run reminded me why this format was so legendary. I also had three(!) bounce bird morphs, which helped me beat a 10,000 Winds (twice) and a Master of Pearls, both having been bounced by my birdy boiz, so I could somewhat play around them. But, man, these games felt so good, I just always had an answer and was nearly always on the initiative, but I could play reactive really well, too. I'm so proud of my play today over all, but I know I can still tighten it up, and we've got at least one more in the chamber, after having to dip into our gold reserves, but thankfully the gem rewards for trophying are generous, so I need to string these together. I even picked up UW fetch, which means I could play that and my RB fetch to act as my last two Deltas if I really wanted to, but we'll see if we can't pick up an actual delinquent Delta in the next couple days--really don't want to craft these if I can just draft them. I don't know if they'll be in packs, since they're actually banned, so they might be relegated to last-open status. Then again, sets were much smaller back then, so maybe I'll get a good chunk of the set before we're through with drafting...we'll see. But yeah, it really is day and night when it comes to how I feel after a good versus a terrible draft, or just strong and poor Magic in general.

[libidomechanica]

Among the bugles call; for on the praise

Began to bloat and purple footcloth, lay the seer.     On which I have shunn’d the while the young or old: the canker live those powers and there beams     that rauishing his she prayed the glad sounds

divine lecture read: that skims, or disordered branches     the seal is set, Next Camus, revels, reader! A God, as a chosen food to feed     where he embark’d, and had not contented?

Nothings, their tiptop nothing grew wild; and be     at rest but still voice of me. And some quiet cave to muse in Ruin, and with a root     to the though when her the Pilgrim of

days outworn, when he saw hypocrite at least I’ll     tell you; found at least, to stake out the hand you relax the ants, thou dost pine for one month’s     frost to flaunt, to dream, I plotted by

Bacchus of all senses clear, and move, unless     omission, which when known, thou pointed to trial: each disclaimed the gray mocker, comes to wonder     flie, o ease your fellow passengers

are almost with forward drew my burthen from his     place was heard in the garden rails. Alas, if Fancie, drawn onward stream. Till then not shew my     bliss: fie, pleased to great, tis night, and the

passing through a white; and white fingered till now,—death’s     dateless night to raise, when the billows ony saucy jacks so happy reign: so slowly     grows never know your father the

court of her teens; and yet t is in vain; not five     yards around me, and poison—oh! Wiser than a glow, and the dreary mountain-top—the     sun. At his right decision of the

light upon her bosom burns bright staves of Destiny     convuls’d clenched in thy bright that dark rain: yet it may veil.—Sad dogs! Scarce had some quiet     air O truant Muse, what need their story

strain, to drag it to a coarser place. And turbans.     There was all, at any Cost stript of this even breast. She sits, but pity and its     Music shall burn upon the throes of

wind, deepening then—he too became. Lashed from the outside     the though he were to an evening his upturned her fabric of mi skirt, just off     yon cape of treason, and made him to

his arm or legs. Or emptied on’t a black dull-gurgling     wave mid-channels of you; I babbled for in their shore until we fill—we fill! I     love their heels but fit to flower, until

Death in this cumbrous flesh, from Káf to Káf reach’d     the which he climate, stopp’d all scarce uplift the voices were their endless emerald. Lattice,     I would not be long, or to keep

the magic ploughs furrow’d deep water-land of Dutchmen     and sober’d morning, to put this time stars, whom daily helpe I craue, may get no almes,     but as wide eye and to his long

lover, fair friends what was real, or ideal,—for both     arrive before the answer’d the pointed to stir?—Unfolded too, and widening noon     with me and gems and living Might, exhaled,

and ripe-ear’d hopes of her monstrous seas, in fact,     the Cross, his penny pelf, and of mountain- top, can this blessed wood where began to move, that     supreme; if there like a housekeeper,

brings, that giant’s arm I’ll behold! But as the apron.     Tis nought we know, since, it grew dim, drew quiet would tell her, wake and weep a true woman     simply did reply, twas worth knowing

it, that our Sexe, and who keeping kine, couched in     his Reign A Sage, who find faultering wheel. He wrote that eye doth make men at once thoughts, sold     cheare her face they put it is, I hold

hand, of foot, of lips: but, as the daunce euen?—And fast,     while down to teach the abode where lives a lassie, O. Among the bugle’s call; for on     the praise? I turned the moon or ladies.

[fmhiphop]

Album Review: Nas & Hit-Boy-King’s Disease III

Last week, Nas and Hit-Boy set the industry ablaze with their new King’s Disease installment, King’s Disease III.  A lot of people are saying that this is the album of the year.  In fact, some are even saying this is a top 5 Nas album!  That’s saying a lot as he has been rapping since 1993.  This is a great album, Nas nor Hit-Boy disappoint. On the intro track, “Ghetto Reporter”, the Queens emcee admits just what I have been thinking about him.  It’s funny because these past few years I’ve been saying to myself Damn, Nas has never dropped this much in his career in a short time frame.  He told us to cherish it and we sure will!  Escobar dropped King’s Disease I in 2020 and both KDII and Magic in 2021, all with Hit-Boy.  They say you’re only as good as your last, therefore Nas claims KDIII is better than all of them.  Nas also talks about the state of hip-hop in 2022.                 “They drew up contracts for our n*****, Dru Hill to Dru Down/                 And I’m prayin they set/                 Instead, most artists don’t live as good as the execs/                 And they end up depressed                 Scarred by A&Rs, the music be changing” Nas is up on game on how the industry does these rappers.  He hints at why rappers’ music constantly changes. What Hit-Boy did with “Legit” is unfair!  This might solidify Hit as the best producer in the game right now.  He turned a scene from the classic movie, The 5 Heartbeats, into a sound that only Nas can float on.  And boy, did he float! Nas references the movie early in his verse with his Eddie King bar.  Esco continues to empathize with the young rappers coming up as he raps:                 “What’s the cost of a CD when fifteen-hundred places one sell?/                 What’s that to fifteen-hundred peas on one scale?/                 For a starvin’ artist tryna sneak out and reroute” Nas doesn’t blame artists for taking another route besides music to make money based on the industry’s profit model.  But, at the same time, he is encouraging them to stay legit. On “Thun” arguably, the best song on the album, the Queens rapper salutes all of Queens, New York in this one.  Nas has always been a great storyteller.  When he raps, you can almost always picture the words in your head.  You can tell Nas has grown as he laughs about his beef with Jay-Z after all these years.  It’s crazy that he is still listening to Takeover 20 years later.  I bet Hov went to listen to “Ether” after receiving that text.  This might be the Queens anthem now. https://twitter.com/nas/status/1590937911134126080?s=46&t=Fcrg6BWVbcBqbT4IQbDQtw Let’s just face it, Nas and Hit are on a big run!  So, calling them “Michael & Quincy” is not far off.  In songs like “30”, “Hood 2 Hood” and “Recession Proof”, Nas and Hit-Boy complement each other styles.  Nas has been around for 30 Summers and doesn’t look like he has any plans on stopping soon. “Reminisce, another gem off the album, Nas mentions that everyone was calling him the greatest after he dropped his first album, Illmatic.  He adds that no one was rapping like him in 93, once again claiming the crown.  As the song goes on, the New York legend keeps reflecting, but ends the song by saying that you shouldn’t reminisce as it is not good to live in the past.  Nas is focused on being present and enjoying today because he’s doing amazing things right now.  He gives a shout-out to Mary J. Blige to let her know what they did back then was legendary and to still be doing it now is amazing. Nas- The Elite We all know Nasty Nas is one of the best and he believes so as well.  On “Serious Interlude” and “I’m on Fire”, Nas shows off how fly he is and his ability to still rap like this over 20 years in.  This trend continues on “WTF SMH”, but in the second half of the song Nas gives us a lesson.  Hit-Boy does an amazing job by switching up the sound so that Nas could give us a lot of knowledge.  The easy listening instrumental allows us to focus on the game his partner is giving us. It’s evident that the way black people treat each other weighs heavily on the 49-year-old emcee.  It’s a theme that is prevalent throughout the album. Overall, I rate this project as a Platinum album.   Nas and Hit-Boy do it again, as they don’t seem to miss on the near hour-long project.  From the beginning all the way through to “First Time”, “Beef” and “Don’t Shoot”, Nas has again proved that he can do this for another 30 summers!  As long as he has Hit-Boy by his side, he has nothing to worry about. Written By: Brandon Simmons   Read the full article

[biblicallyaccuratepigeons]

Appearances and descriptions under cut

These three kiiind of exist in the same universe, because drawing them is how I express myself. Jimothy usually lives in the margins and accidentally skipped pages of my notebooks, where all the vines and flowers live; he's the only one of my oc's who interacts with the viewer on a regular basis. Skyway and Beck shift forms based on how they want to be drawn in the moment; I don't think I've ever drawn either of them the same way twice. Beck is always either running from a large shadow creature or bored, whereas Skyway hasn't a care in the world and never touches the ground.

Here's a quick redraw of the first time I ever drew these two unnamed characters. The original is probably somewhere in my 9th grade notebooks, but I'm not about to go look for it right now (maybe later). It took me two class blocks to draw, so it's actually one of the pieces I'm the most proud of. When I made it, I was thinking a lot about opposites, so the center was a yin/yang symbol; I emulated that with the moon and setting sun in this sketch.

I ended up coming up with a lot of lore for these two, which could make up an entire post of its own, but basically they lived in two cities which had a fragile peace with each other–only, for some reason, they were both born looking like citizens of the city opposite of them. As such, they grew up hated by everyone around them–especially the girl, who was nobility–and would occasionally leave their cities to play alone in the plains between. That's where they met, and became lifelong friends. Eventually, they ended up meeting a witch living in a sod house in the plains, who told them of a prophecy in which the two of them would create peace between their city-states, and gave them each enchanted gems. The guy's gem allows him to summon weapons, and the girl's lets her use magic. At some point, the girl's family learned that she was sneaking out of the city, and forbade her from leaving the house, so the guy gave her a ring made of a magic stone that would let them signal each other of trouble. At the girl's coming-of-age, a saboteur burned down her house, killing her entire family. She was barely able to survive and get away to the witch's house using her magic, and stayed there to recover. The guy, meanwhile, received the distress call and rushed to find the cinders of what was left of her house. A passerby remarked that it was a setup, so he went to find out who did it, and killed them. Unable to find the girl anywhere, he went to the witch's house for help and found her there, passed out and covered in bandages. He stayed with the witch while the girl recovered. When the girl woke up, the two of them decided that it wasn't safe for her to stay in her birth city, so she went to live with the guy and his family. A lot happens after this, involving a marriage, a homecoming, a war, and a tragic death, but basically the girl goes blind and loses her memory after a severe battle and the two of them ascend to godhood

And that's all my most important oc's

list of there names

The three ones with names are Skyway, Jimothy, and Beck. I have two others with names that aren't set, and at least one other without a name

[captzexx]

Candells in Space

(Got a prompt that went off the rails, I kind of like what I wrote so thought I’d put it out here)

PROMPT: with the upcoming Nov. 15 patch coming up (woo Dracthyr, woo Primalist invasions), many players are embracing the three year gap for their story. What has your character been up to in the last three years since the end of Shadowlands?

At long last after years of despair from all parties, the Candells were at last reunited.  The work and acts of the youngest of their party, Gwynn, finally reaching the end of her parents' quest to find the one lost deepest.  For on the fields of Maldraxxus during the siege of the Seat, the young druid guided by her grandfather found a face she long thought lost amongst the chaos.  

Zexx Candell found his family.

As the two embraced, a connection of the multiverse was made and linked by as much blood as spirit.  Confusion filling the man before the young Candell let her memories come to him showing him everything and every road she had fought so hard to find him.  He saw Bea.  He saw himself.  He saw her world.  He saw her being born. He saw his death.

He saw her not alone.

The three running from the field of combat came to a quiet moment near the Theater of Pain, relishing in the moments of breaking the loneliness that had swept them both.  She had one more gift for the hero for hire as she reached within her pouches to produce a tattered strip of red wool.  A confused eye as he held it in his hand, noting its familiar feeling as Zexx stared at Gwynn before she moved away from him to begin drawing sigils upon the rotted earth.  Her staff drew feverishly as she began to whisper words in language he didn't know.  Draconic.

Orbs were placed in direct positions about her circle before taking the cloth from him again.  Asking for her grandfather's hand she broke her staff revealing it to be hollow and taking out an aged hilt with a green gem upon it.

"No."

Gwynn, smiling with tears in her eyes, would place the gem and cloth in the center of the circle before slicing her palms with the broken points of her staff.  Her blood dripped into the grooves to fuel the magical energy needed as she bent her head forward to whisper further in that ancient tongue.  The anima would flare and pulse as the gem in the center matched it with a fire fueled anger.  

This was not the way.

Zexx would move forward to try and stop her, her name drowned by the growing pulsing of the energies and thickened by the growing scent of ozone.  Strong hands would grasp the unknown son as Eld kept his matching eyes on the girl ahead of them, never speaking but knowing she had to finish.  The only way now was through.

As the foul combination of magics continued to twist and be fueled by so many different outreaches, Gwynn would begin to spasm as her words tried to cut above the noise.  The center of the circle flashing as the gem stone began to glow brighter and stronger, growing wider and taller.  Revealing a doorway, gasping green and black as the gem had been often known too in the presence of some creatures.

Hands bleeding and eyes a glow with fel light, the druid's mouth would be wide in a smile of agony and triumph.  Bridging the multiverse at last to reveal to help finish her quest.  A figure would step through.

Xaya Candell would step into this mutual world now, stumble more so as she fell forward.  Her leather armor dinged with blood, snow, and burns but nothing would quell the fire in those purple tinged brown eyes.  Behind her would come the heavy footfalls of a metallic foot followed by another, the large shape of an armored giant dragging a broken mace from it's belt and broken horns atop it's head.  In it's arms it would carry a limp form wrapped in a tattered green cloak.

Rey Candell sat unmoving in the arms of the metal golem as it stalked forward, bits of steam and grinding gears announcing their arrival.  Much like her sister, Rey was in the same look of disarray with matching blood and snow.

"She's alive," a deep rumble growled from the metal creature that held the former youngest Candell.

"Thank the light," Xaya murmured as she stood up to her full height again, taking after her father obviously as she leaned on the metal arm of the golem.  "We made it, Gen."

"Xaya," the metal voice spoke again, where it could hardly modulate such a voice it seemed almost desperate to whisper her name.

"Wha-" The young woman's voice caught in her throat as she found the man they called father held tight by his near older match.  "Daddy."

The young woman didn't bother to look at her youngest sibling or anything in the world as she leapt for her father.  Zexx would be released by Eld as he opened his arms and grasped her tighter than anything in his life.  Both began to shake as they held onto each other, coming together after all this time in their grief and joy.

"You promised."

"I know."

"You said you'd come back."

"I know."

"Why?" Xaya wept into her father's chest and felt her hands grip him so tight it might crack his ribs.  The hero didn't care.

"I don't know."

Eld would have gone to Gwynn now, easing her up to sit up straight obviously drained from what she had just done.  The girl had cracked reality.

A sound like glass breaking would shatter the reunion as father and daughter would peer up into the sky.

“What’s happening?” Xaya would whisper.

“I don’t know.” Zexx replied.

“Should we run?”  The golem stalked forward with heavy thumps of his feet.

“Where would we go?”  Eld growled as he eased Gwynn up to her feet again.

“I don’t know.  What should we do then?”  The golem answered with a worried ache to his hollow tone.

“We stay together," Zexx looked up into the sky as brilliant purple cracks began to form in the green chaos swam above.  He had no idea if anyone else in this hellscape could see it but it chilled his heart to see.

“I love you,” Xaya began to weep again as she wrapped her arms about Zexx's neck, hanging on for dear life.

“It will be alright.”

THREE YEARS LATER...

The Astral Sea is endless and infinite. A cascading collage of color and shapes as it ever expands the multiverse of which it is built upon by the very will of reality.  Upon this never ocean of possibility ride the many vessels of those brave enough to ponder and wander it's chaos.  Spelljammers.

The Wayfarer is one such vessel and it's crew don't know where they are headed or why, but they're together.  And that's what families do.  They stay together.

(It’s been a year.  But this has been on my mind since, forever and a half.  It could definitely be more flesh out and should be, there’s likely lots of questions if you follow any of them from before.  But it was nice to put something to paper for them.  To set them on a new adventure in wild space.  No blog yet or plans with it yet, but who knows maybe some day.)

@zexxcandell​ @eldridgecandell​ @gatesofthetroupe​

[lqdyanne]

𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄 ╱ 𝖫𝖤𝖵𝖨 𝖠𝖢𝖪𝖤𝖱𝖬𝖠𝖭 ⎯ 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈 | 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆

this chapter is whole-heartedly dedicated to @m-jelly ‹𝟥

written by: @-SUCREROSE / @lqdyanne && @MXLADY_LIYA

⎯ “Have you ever heard of the Diwatas?” Armin began, pulling out a book he must’ve found in his parents’ study, and settling it in front of both his friends, Eren and Mikasa.

He began flipping through the pages. Armin was a certified bookworm, always curious of everything and anything - may it be the histories of the titans, the secrets of the landscape outside of the walls that their kind has yet to unfold, or theories of how their ancestors even survived such a violent nature.

Eren and Mikasa mirrored a look of

bewilderment mixed with curiosity,

before diverting their gazes back to their friend, “No..?” Eren answered, more like a raise of question.

Mikasa leaned forward, her interest piqued, “What are they?”

“Well, it says here that…” Armin trailed off as he pointed his finger at the beginning words of the book that began to narrate what Armin mentioned as ‘The Diwatas’.

“Many centuries ago, there lived the mythical creatures blessed by the divine beings themselves, as they were bestowed upon the power of the four elemental gems of Fire, Air, Water, and Earth.

Their lineage can be traced down through their ancestor, the first queen, and sang'gre, Cassiopeia who was the first bearer of the four elemental gems, gifted by the deities as their sworn duty to protect each race, from wars upon wars inflicted upon humanity.

They were said to be welded to great capabilities of sorcery and magic, their enemies feared them, as they were said to have a keen eye for the future, speaking in tongues of prophecies and curses, which would all come to pass. 

Each of the Sang'gres including the Queen had a sworn responsibility to wield and guard the four elemental gems, and soon they were passed up from generation to generation.

Their ancestor, Cassiopeia ruled a magnificent reign lasting for a decade, before being bestowed the grace of being a blessed deity for her good deed and service to her people and other races.

Yet as the decades' pass, they start altering their ways. They turned into malevolent evil spirits as they turned away from the light and served the darkness. They used their ethereal beauty to appear innocent and would lure men with their eyes, pulling them into a trance and seducing them into a bewitching spell, like a temptress.

...They manipulated the titans, who were previously the protectors of humanity, to turn against the people they were supposed to defend. They made them do heartless and malicious deeds to eradicate all of humanity.” Armin finished the tale’s monologue as the look of uneasiness drew on his facial expression.

Mikasa glanced at the two, before shifting her eyes back to the book as she stared at the caricature of a Diwata that was illustrated in the book. She took note of Armin’s expression, therefore asking, “Do you think they’re real?”

Eren scoffed, leaning his back on the wall behind him, "As if,” He answered, “There's no way that magic and deities exist. It looks like a children's book, and probably made up to scare the little ones."

Armin frowned, “It’s too detailed to be a children’s book.” He objected, before turning back to the book unsure, “Dad doesn’t keep fiction books on his top shelves.”

“Real or not, I won't pressure you on that matter." Eren assured, “Besides, no one’s seen them yet. And if they did exist, those titans would break through that wall by now.”

The blue-eyed lad nodded, knowing that Eren was speaking the truth. In the past 100 years, nothing catastrophic had happened between the people and the titans. They were all still safe and sound within the walls. No titan had ever entered the walls, “Yeah, you’re probably right…” Armin responded, closing the book.

Oh, how ironic that'll be. But yet, no one could blame them - as they lived on being surrounded by misinformation and false news. Memories were wiped as they completely forgot their history and their true origin. They were only unfortunate victims, unaware of the reality of the outside world. A world where its secret remained to be an unknown theorized mystery for centuries.

And that continues until the Year 850.

Far and beyond the walls, masked somewhere isolated within the lovely greens and blues of nature lies a remote hidden palace far away from humanity's usual vicinity, stood a magnificent golden structure of palace walls. There lived a race favored by the revered deities and that was the Diwatas.

They had been peacefully living on this sacred land, a place where they can find sanctuary and protection in this bittersweet world, a world so chaotic yet beautiful at the same time.

A soft, sweet, and delicate giggle can be heard across the chambers of Sang'gre Hera, veiling a wonderful elegant lady sitting down on her bed, admiring the 2-year-old toddler behind her, whose delicate, lovely, and sweet laughter was a sweet melodic song through her ears.

"Oh, my dearest Daphne!" She cooed affectionately, with warmth and love illuminating her raven eyes, gazing down at her baby daughter.

"Good morning, Mama!" Daphne sweetly greeted her mother, as her chubby hands were grasping the fingertips of her mother's serene hands.

Hera's heart was beaming with pride and fondness towards her daughter, and her cheeks turned scarlet, as she affectionately pressed a small kiss on her daughter's chubby cheeks to which she giggled.

"Mama, please stop it." Daphne teasingly scolded her mother, pouting her lips.

"Oh, my silly little girl." Hera cheekily replied, scowling while her smile turned into a cheeky smirk.

Suddenly, she softly attacked her daughter's chubby cheeks, and smooched them, while Daphne laughed so giddily as a child adored by her mother.

It was a moment to be remembered throughout centuries, as the lady Hera wanted nothing more than to spend time with her daughter throughout the days of her life, Daphne was her pride and joy, the bane of her existence.

Without her, she felt as if she didn't exist without light and love.

In her eyes, her daughter was the lantern of her existence.

As time went on, and passed, they were interrupted by a guard, a lieutenant to the diwata army standing outside the door, doing his duty, as he bent over his head in reverence to the Sang'gre Hera, and her daughter, Sang'gre Daphne.

"Forgive me, Your Graces," He apologetically said, as his head remained bent over, while Lady Hera softly cradled her daughter on her shoulder, gently holding her tight, to keep her warm and safe.

Sang'gre Hera slowly tilted her head, lowering her gaze upon seeing the lieutenant, her composure remained calm and composed while she gestured the tip of her fingertips to signal that he must refrain from bending over his head and kneel in reverence.

"Why are you here, my Lord Lieutenant?" She politely questioned the Lieutenant, with a genuine smile.

"Your Grace, Her Majesty, The Queen, including the royal council, requested you to join them for a private meeting at the council room." The Lieutenant began, telling the Sang'gre Hera what the Queen's order was.

"Well, I'd be there shortly, my Lord Lieutenant and yes, you may go now." She politely instructed him to leave her chambers, as the Lieutenant bowed his head in reverence, as he took his leave.

As he left, hearing the sounds of the door shutting up close, Lady Hera calmly put down her daughter on the queen-sized bed beside her, frowning at the thought of their bonding time being interrupted due to duty calls as one of the Sang'gres, while being a part of the royal council's member to advise the queen whether it be in politics or non-politics.

"Well, my darling, I'm so sorry but Mommy's needed to do her duty, but don't worry I'd be back soon," Hera assured the toddler, while Daphne tilted her head back, facing her mother, pouting her lips making Hera let out a soft, genuine giggle.

"Awe, Daphne…" Hera cooed while plastering kisses on Daphne's rosy pinkish lips, to which she adorably giggled.

"Well, please wait for me, and Nanny Maria will take care of you in the meantime, sweetheart." Hera sweetly assured her daughter, as she nodded politely, seeing the nanny beside them, smiling warmly at the little sang'gre, and her lady mother.

"Mmm, okay mommy…

I'd be a good girl, and wait for you." She promised her mom while pouting in a cute adorable way.

Hera felt her heartstrings tugging at her, as she giggled, butterflies erupting through her stomach, hearing that vow made her sentimental, and full of passion.

"Well, I must take my leave, and please be a good girl to Nanny Maria, my sweetling,"

Hera told them, as she waved the two of them goodbye, as the nanny nodded her head in esteem, while Daphne cutely waved back to her mother.

With a satisfied smile gracing her rosy, pinkish lips, Lady Hera left her room, walking elegantly, as the guards outside of her chambers bowed down in respect and reverence to her.