#dicta

[gentleeclipsey]

Not a question. I just want to say I think it’s awesome that you like Dictatious enough to make your own version of him. With your own headcanons and style and such. I love Dicta just as much as my own version of dad Dictatious. I hope you have a good day!

"Oh jeez, you flatter me, friend!"

Thank you so much!! This funky little dream demon is one of my favorites I'm so happy people like him!!!

And congrats on being the first to make him fluster!

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[gentleeclipsey]

Is it okay if you write about Blinky please? :)

Fun fact, Dictatious is older than Blinky! They're not twins as far as I gather from the wiki! This involves my variant of Dictatious, Dicta, so if he's out of character that's why, also have orphaned Galadrigal twins-

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Dicta was...exhausted. That was one word for how he felt. Two of his six eyes, damaged in the raid, left him worse for ware when hunting down the scraps to feed his little brother. The further bruising made it a more treacherous affair. Dicta was a youngling, only just barely what humans would describe as a 15 year old. His brother, Blinky, just barely a whelp, he was bathroom trained, able to somewhat grasp the situation, but lacked any skills to actually help.

Even so, their little hide away was decently well cared for no thanks to the elder Galadrigal. It was once a mighty trollish city, now overrun with what was left of their own home city after the barbaric clans raided it for breeders and supplies. The elder Galadrigal ducked into the curtained off shanty shack they'd occupied, his brother curled in one of the nests reading a spare book that'd been thrown out for being damaged.

"I found some of that fruit you were talking about." Dicta spoke low and careful, his face still burned from the wound. Blinky turned over quick in the nest, a smile splitting his little face as he bolted up from the old furs, "Dicky!" a terrible nickname, accompanied by a tight hug. Dicta twitched, but used his two free arms to loosely hug his brother back, "Here, eat." the command was simple, and the younger whelp dislodged from his brother to take the small sack he'd been carrying. Dicta undid his cape, rolling it up and laying it on a crate before slipping into the free nest as his brother dug through the bag.

"Oranges! I didn't think these were even in season anymore!" The excitement in Blinky's voice eased the pain in Dicta's chest. "We got lucky. Those were some of the last fruits on the branches."* Dicta distracted himself by undoing his boots, sighing heavy as he rubbed his aching heels. Before he could consider laying down a hand stretched into his vision, the brown and green eyes snapping to the biggest orange that had been in the bag. There were no words, but a soft flick of the ear before he gently accepted the tart fruit.

Blinky sat in his nest, not bothering to peel the round orange balls before he ate them one at a time, "Hear anything of mother and father?" The words came out hopeful, full of innocence like only a whelp his age could hold. Dicta froze, the uncovered eyes all pointing to his little brother for a split moment before the lie slipped between his teeth. "No, nothing yet Blink. But...I'm sure I'll find them soon. When I do, we'll all go see great aunt Abdwen when we do, just like they promised us." He reached a hand overz ruffling his little brother's mane, "Dicky!" Blinky pouted and shoved the hand away playfully, moving to fix his ruffled hair.

Dicta held that smile, even as much as he knew that they'd never go see great aunt Abdwen again.

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