#for the xp more than anything else

[zenatness]

Minthara has adjusted well to the team. For an unspecified value of 'well'.

That is to say, she promptly assured my dark urge that she'd put him down like the mad dog he was if he got out of hand. She seemed to be under the impression that this was comforting. It kind of was. Everyone else took Ghaunafein's "I crave murder" confession too well.

Act 2 with Minthara and Halsin was amusing. Every time I got to camp there they were, looking like a little family with their mangled tree-son. Very cute. I hope they are happy together.

Less amusing was the bugged tiefling who kept getting involved in Every Single Fight. She was stuck at Last Light Inn and every round the camera would jump to her and what she was up to, before going back to the actual fight. Didn't matter how far away I was, tiefling lady had to be involved.

And then Halsin had to go have his solo portal adventure while the team held the line. Tiefling lady joined the fight, as usual, but this time she was close enough that she dashed over to join the battle. She arrived just in time to see us kill the last enemy and tried to arrest us. For defending ourselves. After pissing me off the entire act. Isolated and alone on the beach. With no witnesses.

So her corpse was promptly added to the collection. And it's an impressive collection at this point.

Withers gave Ghaunafein shit for having a bosom-companion. It was unclear who he was talking about.

I made the decision that it's a first come, first served situation. Whoever got their act together first and tried to make the relationship official would be the (questionable) winner.

Astarion promptly wanted to thank Ghaunafein for respecting his bodily autonomy, so that was that. Seeing how Astarion was being vulnerable, Ghaunafein made an effort to be nicer for once. I toyed with the idea that maybe we'd turn this around after all. Maybe Astarion could make us a better person.

Not better right now, of course, but in act 3. So, after killing Aylin we saved the few surviving tieflings in Moonrise tower, before doing Sceleritas' bidding and killing Isobel as well. Last Light Inn fell, Jaheira died knowing what we'd done as the remaining harpers and tieflings fell to the shadow curse. Having to kill Dammon was rough though. His Majesty might not have died by our hand, but his body was also added to the corpse pile out of respect.

I'm happy to report that my gnoll palls in Moonrise tower had left by the time I came to clean house. Less happy to report that Kar'niss was still alive in the final showdown, so I tried to banish him because that was a complication I didn't want to deal with at the same time as Ketheric. The game bugged out. Kar'niss proceeded to stand and weep loudly outside of the main room as we fought Ketheric, giving me the player psychic damage every time because I felt like a bully.

I opted to free Zevlor in the mindflayer pods. Astarion didn't approve. The "being nicer" was off to a rough start.

While Ketheric refused to tell me about my past there were some secrets to be found in the mindflayer mucus. Ghaunafein was Outraged that anyone would fail to murder him, chose to torture and tadpole him instead, and that his then would-be healer had instead kept playing with his organs. Finish the job, at least. Rude.

The team made it to Baldur's Gate and Orin instantly started trying to mess with our heads. Sceleritas revealed that Ghaunafein was a Bhaalspawn and told him that he had to murder Orin. Ghaunafein was confused at this point. The previous murders had been of people who hadn't really deserved it and Orin had already earned herself a place on the List. It was a weird demand to make.

At this point the dead tiefling counter is best described as: all but maybe 6. Rolan and his siblings left in act one (resulting in the death of all the children but Mol by act 2), Zevlor is still kicking, and one single survivor of the big group made it to the outskirts of Baldur's Gate.

I hope daddy Bhaal is proud of his murder son.

[networksupported]

someday i will have a character that

i actually made and didn't just come to me and demand to be written

has the chance for actual depth and character and is recognised as having such

isn't based purely around a bit for fear of vulnerability

i am happy with or consistently enjoy writing

is enjoyed by a relatively encompassing range of people

i mean. today is not the day,, but SOMEDAY--

[avengernomore]

"Karin was never one to respect my boundaries when we were on a team..."

[fighter-spirits]

hi i dont have much real writing for my au but! i roleplay as him on @joltiklover3000 and that's my main source of information! but i also have a few posts on here with the #system!emmet au tag,,,

edit: also i was a doofus and forgot to ever supply an actual image of emmet so he looks like this:

Emmet Bracket One!

Check out the AUs!

🔥📚The Issue With Stealing? You could lose your arm AU by @spacenewzwastaken

and

System!Emmet AU by @fighter-spirits

(Art for 'The Issue with Stealing' by @fourphoenixfeathers )

[highhhfiveee]

please i need some dubcon mike schmidt ..,,, like he picks up drunk reader from a party n takes her home n fucks her throat ..,,, ‘you’re so easy to control when you’re all stupid like this’ ..,,, she’s got tears streaming down her face n she’s clawing at his thighs but he just holds her head in place n strokes her hair n tells her how good she’s making him feel ,,

okay okay okay. shiver me fuckin timbers lmaoooo. this is so brothersbestfriend!mike. switched it up a little but i hope you still enjoy! [had this set to post at 12 but tumblr failed me lmao]

sangria

pairing: brothersbestfriend!mike schmidt x blackfem!reader wc: 4k tags: brothersbestfriend!mike, fem!reader, intimate touching, choking, wild dick sucking, deep throating, spitplay, degradation, dubcon (reader is plastered, and while she does consent to be taken advantage of, she is still under the influence); mike is such a protector and i'm starting to think that this is megasub!reader x protector!mike in addition to bbf! [let me know if i missed anything + this has been proofread but there’s always still a chance for mistakes lmao]

link to the original fic, mimosa, here 🍹, and the first part of the finale here, tequila sunrise, here 🍸

okay, so maybeeeeeee you two didn't actually get caught that day.

you’re panting in each other’s faces as you come, clean yourselves off, and exit the shed like your brother's best friend hadn't made you squirt all over the garden tools and pool supplies.

the feeling of mike's come pooling in your bikini bottoms makes you tingly all over again, and you're squirming while you both ease your way back into the fold of cookout attendees, diverting into separate paths so no one can catch onto your attachment; clandestine and kept between the eyes, lips, and bodies of you two only.

you'd wished mike nothing but hell while you were away at school, doing anything you could to get the thought of him out of your head. even though you'd been the one to catch feelings, you never wanted him to have any part of you ever again, restricting him from you.

you'd wanted him erased from the entire galaxy then, but from the cookout forward, nothing excited you more than the thought of being mike’s plaything. you snuck around with him more than you should've; giving him handjobs in the backseat of his car, letting him eat you out in your bedroom with the door open---risky things that made your heart pound with adrenaline and need, a rush to the very end.

you could only get that feeling with mike. it made you sick to your stomach with taboo butterflies, fantasizing about all the ways he could have you thrashing, eyes rolling back, toes curled until your feet cramped.

he'd hooked you on him once again, and this time, he'd decided to go with the flow. he wasn't pursuing anything with anyone else, and feelings had begun to bloom in him. nothing like love, he'd told himself (even though your flirty smile made his heart palpitate before making his dick hard), but like...safeguarding.

you were young, unversed with life, vulnerable; mike could see people taking advantage of you, mistaking your soft, impish act for total naivete. even though he'd hurt you himself, he'd never allow anyone else to treat you that way, or put you in a situation to harm you. there was this urge in him to keep you safe, keep you protected from the mean world that ate girls like you for breakfast.

mukrrrrrrrrrrrr

molwwwwwwwwww

gahdmn i cant tYpe LoL

exhibit a.

y/n are you drunk

….

………..

…………………………….

y/n

4 F R E E dwinks

downnnnnnnnn thw hATCH

pArTyz rool xp

mike's about to ask about your location when your picture floods his screen, phone vibrating in his hand with a call. he answers it with a displeased, "where are you?

"she’s at 8203 harrington circle," someone yells over loud, bass-riddled music and scattered conversations. mike hopes it's a friend of yours, and not a complete stranger. “she was fine, but i think that fourth drink tipped her over!"

mike's been putting on clothes and grabbing for his keys and wallet since your first text message, already sulking to his car as your friend finishes her statement. "stay with her and keep her upright, i'll be there in fifteen."

he can't get rid of the deep scowl etched on his face while he drives, both hands clasped tensely on his wheel at ten and two. he wants you to have fun, of course. he isn't going to tell you not to go to parties, or not to drink---you’re your own person, and he has no right to tell you what you could and couldn't do, but something about you utterly hammered around so many people you probably don't know makes his heart pound against his ribcage with agitation.

harrington circle was a street on a state school campus, one that you'd opted not to go to all that time ago. maybe you'd known some people there, but mike was sure you didn't know your way around, where to go if something went wrong...

he pulls up to a tall, red brick house smack dab in the middle of a cul-de-sac, immediately throwing his car in park and exiting when he sees two girls walking alongside a guy carrying you out the front doorway. he has his hands hooked under your armpits, pushing your boobs together and "covertly" staring at your amplified cleavage as he leads you down the short stone path.

your head lulls back a little, and you're smiling up at the sky with your eyes closed and your cheeks flushed to death. your legs drag under you, and mike's quick to grab for your waist, removing you from that perv's grasp with haste and a grimace.

you droop into him, body leaden with alcohol, and he slides one arm under the back of your knees, bending his own to lift you into a bridal style hold.

you squeal as he turns away from the house, throwing your arms around his neck and dreamily sighing at the way his hands feel carrying you, strong and vigilant and possessive. "mikeeeeeee," you mewl, pulling yourself into him so you can nudge at the column of his throat. your words are slurred almost beyond comprehension, and he commands one of the girls to open the passenger door so he can ease you inside.

he sets you down in the seat, or at least tries to, whispering, "let me go" when you keep your arms wrapped around him. the position has him hunched over, and it hurts his back so badly, but you whimper, "nooooo, want you close" while nearly making him trip and fall across you, splaying his entire body over yours. he smells so good, all warm and musky and mike, and you don’t want to separate from him.

"y/n, please. i wanna get you home," he reaches back to wrench your arms off of him, placing them in your lap and closing the door before you can complain. he walks around the front to the driver's side, monotonously thanking the girl who'd helped you as he grumpily enters the car.

he grabs for your seat belt, stretching it across your torso as he does his own and drives away from the annoyingly illuminated house and party commotion in silence.

you're so gone, but even drunk, it's unsettling to you how quiet mike is, keeping his eyes focused on the road without a hint of a glance or a word to you. his jaw is clenched deeply, and he's stiff as a board against his seat, so opposite from his usual sullen, suave nonchalance. you frown at him, fingering with your strappy, well-tied sandals. "hey, grumpy,"

"not grumpy," you huff at his tone, sour and unwavering, and wiggle your toes as you finally free them from the entrapment of footwear. "i'm fine."

"you've gotten very, very bad at lying," you demur. your head slacks again, but this time against your headrest. you ogle mike through the film in your eyes, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. "mad at me?"

mike writhes in his seat, his jaw muscles flexing at your coy lilt. you know how to manipulate him with your words, sweetening them in just a way that would have mike bending to your will. the way you're gazing at him with your big, unfocused eyes makes him makes him press down on the gas a bit harder.

"i'm not mad," he mutters, all pseudo-nonconfrontational and collected, but you know that he's not telling the truth. something about the circumstances bothers him, and you want to know why. the car comes to a stop at a red light, mike shaking his head as he scrunches his face and rubs his eye with a knuckle. "forget about it."

"i won't. don't like me having fun without you?" he doesn't answer, staring ahead at the empty streets around the two of you. it was so late, nearly 2 am, and it only fuels the exasperation he feels burning in his stomach. he doesn’t like you out here like this, without him to keep you out of harm’s way.

"is it the drinking?" you pout, frustrated with the way he's ignoring you. "i admit, maybe four drinks was overkill, but i feel sooooo good. my body feels like..." you make a subtle buzzing noise, similar to tv static, and cut it off with a giggle, reaching over for one of mike's hands while the light turns green.

you inch it towards your lap, dragging it across the skin of your thigh that skims the end of your skirt, mini and gold and matching with the white corset top you wore. "you should feel."

"y/n..."

"c'mon mike," you pout again, dipping his hand between your opened legs. you let out an astounded moan when his cold fingertips connect with your bare clit, and now he's scowling at the fact that you’re not wearing any panties. he thinks about how many people would keep note of that, combined with your docile, inebriated state, and see it as a way in. it’s clear, with how those drinks have you begging him to ease his fingers into you, caressing your tight, warm walls so he can add another check to "car" on the list of places he's made you squirt. “don't want you to be mad at me anymore."

"i'm not mad at you, y/n," he finally says, fingers still against your skin. you're soaking his seats, the excess of your slick dripping down to the cloth, and he has to pull himself out of thinking about someone else feeling you in this way. his eyes stay low on the road as he continues, "did you know anyone at that party?"

"mhm, like one person." mike sighs, a low grumble in his throat. he pulls his hand away from you, putting all of his attention on driving so he can get home. he just wants you inside, away from the world and in his charge. he doesn't say anything for a long while, eventually taking a deep breath and mumbling, "just want you safe, y/n. i'm glad you called me to come get you. there are bad people out there, and i don’t trust them in situations like this.”

"yeah," you purr, leaning against the center console and resting your head on the side of his seat. "you're my knight in shining armor, hmm? keeping me away from all the bad bad people looking to destroy messed up princesses like me?"

mike side eyes your tone, nearly scolding you for treating it like a joke and not something that could actually happen.

"...that's one way to put it, but seriously—-“

"wanna be destroyed though," you interrupt, unbuckling your seatbelt once he cuts the car off in the driveway. he’s turning to you, dark eyes gazing towards your pouted lips. you're reaching your hand across his lap, massaging it over the press of him in his sweatpants. “especially by you. wanna be your little fucktoy. let you use my messy holes however you want because they're yours."

your filthy mouth and shameless confession have mike turned on and hard and thinking about how you've called your holes his. he's seeing you bent over the couch, stuffed to the hilt with his fingers pressed against your tongue while he smirks down on you, veins coursing with lust. he squeezes at your hand, and says,

"let's get you inside, okay? then we can talk more about my messy fucking holes."

you're dizzy, giving him a big, woozy smile and letting all the craving you feel inside pour out through your glazed over eyes when he swoops you up again, carrying you and your shoes to his front door. your arms are back around his neck, and you're placing soft kisses on his lips, jaw, and chin as he drops your shoes by the entrance and carries you all the way to the couch, settling his body into one of the corners.

you're adjusting yourself on him so your bare mound drips over his thighs, and he's got his hands around your hips again, digging his fingers into your flesh as you mindlessly grind against him. you're still kissing against his lips, so uncoordinated and sloppy, and he pulls on the wispy strands at the nape of your neck, disconnecting you from him so he can leer at you with a look that tells you he will be destroying you tonight, guaranteed. "no panties was really bold of you, baby."

"can’t have panty lines in this skirt," you frown, placing your hands on mike's shoulders for leverage to move on him a bit harsher, eventually grazing them over his back and arms as you do. "not cute."

"but it's really not cute for you to have my holes on display for anyone to have, especially not when you're like this."

"mikey, please,” you coo, hunching down to press wet, suctioned kisses on mike's bare neck and rolling your hips into the weight of him. he feels so good against you, and you're aching, the alcohol sending shocks to your clit with every second of friction. "want you in me or something. no more talking, just use—-.”

"aht, don't rush me. trying to get you to understa---" one of your hands goes from roaming his shoulderblades to placing pressure around his throat, shocking him stiff against the back of the couch.

he doesn't think anyone has ever choked him before, and while his eyes burn at you with frenzied astonishment, you're causing him to have a revelation. his dick pulses against the material of his sweatpants at the feeling of your dainty hand squeezing his throat, and he's reaching to grab your wrist and bring your hand down before he comes all quick like he’s 18 again. you stop him with your other hand, coming in close to his face.

there's such a ferocity in your stare, and he knows that you're not going to let him lecture you all night. you need him to fuck you, need him to do something with you and your drunken arousal.

"are you really gonna keep talking, or would you rather just fuck my throat?" you slide your arms down his back, lips placed by his ear as you whisper, "show me how depraved people really can be when i'm like this."

he knows it's sick, but it doesn't take much past that for mike to have you on all fours beside him on the couch, back arched into a 45 degree angle as you drool all over his lap. you're begging for it, whining about how good he feels in your mouth, and he doesn't want to miss an opportunity to give you something you want, even though you're in this state. he's glad that it's him using you in this scenario, and not someone genuinely looking to hurt you. it's his rationale for giving in to your immoral desires.

you pull away from your mess with a sharp inhale, your jaw trembling as you sit up and give mike an eager, spit-slick smile. your eyes are even more distant than before, and it's almost like you’ve checked out. mike can see all the brashness and attitude you give him on the regular is gone, currently replaced with servitude and the intent to please, nothing less.

"wanna feel you ruin my throat, mike," you rasp, grabbing his dick in your hand and stroking at the soft skin, suckling on his tip as you flash him the hunger you feel inside through a grin. "please."

he's silent, having a quarrel with himself as he takes in your blank, mindless expression. it’s so wrong of him, but you look so pretty like this, and he reaches out to hold your cheek as you pout at him again.

"pleaseeeeee," you whine, tears nearly welling in your eyes. "want you to wreck me, use me however you wanttttt. gonna be your obedient, drunk little whore, do whatever you ask."

mike loses all resolve then, and demands you to drop to your knees in between his own. you're quick to assume the position, letting him put one hand on the back of your head and feed his dick into your throat.

"shouldn't like this," mike mutters, wrapping your hair up into a ponytail with both of his hands, watching you rub his dick over your face after slipping it from your mouth to spit on it. he almost can't take you like this, spacey and pliant and all his to destroy. so drunk and willing and--- "shouldn't let me take advantage of you like this."

your face is stained with tears and spit, streaks of dried liquid overlaying your burning cheeks and swollen lips. the neckline of your top is soaked too, saliva glistening on your chest.

"maybe i wanted it," you muse, winking leisurely as you wrap both of your slim hands around his base, smirking up at him. "maybeeeeeee i went and got plastered cause i knew you’d come get me if i called," you're feeding him into your mouth again, and without warning, mike is holding your head stationary, shoving his hips up into your warm mouth while you gulp every time he hits the opening to your throat. of course you'd do something like this. your admittance makes mike feel a plethora of things, good, bad, ugly, but right now, all he's focused on is making you feel like the toy you wanted to be.

"you're a fucking slut, y/n," he hisses with gritted teeth, throwing his head back as he feels you open up for him, allowing him to raise his hips and sink further into you.

the muscles of your throat flutter around his length, and it makes his toes curl, tangling together in his socks. "only sluts go to a party to get drunk so they can be turned into pretty little fuckdolls later...like being fucking mindless for me, huh?"

"love it, mike," you whimper, laying your tongue flat so his dick can slip in and out of your mouth with less resistance. it's covered in thick spit, a droplet resting on the tip, and mike leans down to collect all of it in his own mouth with a sloppy, obscene kiss, before releasing it all over his pelvis with a groan.

it was a fucking mess, and he loved it. he knew you loved it like this too, and your enjoyment of the raunchiness is reflected in the way you patiently wait for him to plunge his dick in you, eyes twinkling with everything and nothing at the same time.

your hand is moving under your dress, fingers stroking along your sodden walls, but he doesn't care; not when your eyes are rolling back into your skull as his dick infiltrates your throat again, filling the room with a persistent gluckgluckgluck as he rhythmically slams your face into his base.

you're sure you'll have no voice after this, but fuck, will it be worth it. you're basking in every second of this, so happy you decided to go out tonight. you were unexperienced in some ways, but you knew how to get to people, or at least to mike. you could get him to do whatever you wanted under the guise of him being in control, and all it took was a bit of sweetening with your voice, a flutter of your eyelashes and a crooked, "innocent" smile for mike to be wound your finger, abusing your face in a way you shouldn’t have dreamt of. you're running out of breath, and your fingers dig into his thighs with the message, but he ignores you, gripping your hair so that your mouth gently snaps up around him every time he pulls his hips back. the sensation is godly, and mike's not sure if he deserves this really. you'd fallen so hard for him at one point, and he'd crushed your hope to be with him under his thumb, but now you're here, letting him have you like this despite those memories. he's lucky, for whatever force is keeping you in his orbit.

"letting me do this to you while you're fucked up...letting some older guy take your throat like you're just free use...you're not getting into heaven," you laugh around him, forming your mouth into a makeshift smile as he slowly slides you off of him, overstimulated by the ridges of your throat muscles clinging to him. he doesn't want to come on your face, not this time. he wants you to beg for him to come in you, for him to fill you until you're overflowing, leaking down your thighs while he gives you more and more and more and more...

"i know," you mewl, pretty face smeared with saliva and pre-come. "i'll be in hell with you. wouldn't have it any other way." mike sits up, thumbing at your bottom lip and hissing as you unhinge your jaw and suck the tip of it inside. your eyes are getting dimmer by the second, but you're still wanting everything mike can give you.

he won't stop until you say so, and he strangely finds himself buzzing with lust at the thought of you bossing him around for his pleasure and yours. how had you gotten in his head like this?

"go in my room and strip, baby. sit in the middle of the bed and don't move." you're on your feet in a flash, clumsily dashing down the short hall without a look back.

it gives him time to get some towels, a washcloth to clean your face up, some lube, and grab waters for the both of you, thinking about all the ways he's gonna contort you. he might even make you watch in the mirror, make you take in your glassy eyes and lack of autonomy, the way you're letting him, your brother's best friend, have you in such an obscene way.

he cracks the door open with all the items in hand, and scoffs when he sees you naked, but stretched out on the bed, mouth hanging open with soft snores.

he walks over to the edge, dropping the things he's holding onto the comforter and shaking your shoulder softly. "baby," you lurch awake, murmuring "huh?".

you blink the bleariness out of your eyes as he uses one of the towels he brought to wipe off his drenched groin, and he smirks at you. you two are done for the night, and that's fine with him. something about your small figure, safely sprawled against his sheets has him seeing hearts and stars and rainbows and everything else he's tried so hard to push away.

when he's dry, ditching his shirt and boxers, he leans against his headboard, cradling you in his arms and lap as he begins using the washcloth to wipe at the dried spittle on your face. "here," he announces, cracking open a water bottle and bringing it to your lips, tilting it so you're able to get some water between them without much effort.

you swallow the sips he gives softly, wrapping your arms around his neck again. you loved being skin to skin with him, and right now, you felt tranquility.

this is but a fraction of that 100% he wanted to give, you think. something has changed in him, and now he wants to show you care. he still wants you to need him, need him to keep you protected from the world outside while he corrupts you in his own. you want that, too.

"mmmmmmm, you're so boyfriend," you muse, placing pecks on his collarbones as he continues cleaning you up. he's able to maintain a pokerface towards you, wiping at your cheeks with passive strokes, but inside, he feels nothing but chaos. why does he like hearing you call him boyfriend, like having you in his arms like this? why did it all seem to fill a hole in his heart, one he always thought would stay a cavity?

"really do love you, mike," you add, staring at him full on now. you might as well be sober, with your attentive, doe-like eyes. "tried hard not to, but i do."

you've broken him down, so easily, and somehow, he's giving into you with a deep, irrevocable sigh. he has nothing else to do but finally accept the truth.

"me too, y/n. me too."

this was rough for me to write because my brain just couldn't work properly, so i hope it's not the dogshit i think it is lmao hope this satisfies you anon!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf-@jun1p3rlol-@xyzstar-@aquamarine001-@atrociouslybear

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

House Tour (not the house we wanted, but the house we have)

Fandom: Poppy Playtime.

Synopsis: Angel (referred here as "you") introduces their house to the toys after the events of the game.

---

"It's not much", you hurriedly tell the group. "And it's not very big, we'll have to get a bigger house as soon as possible, can't forget to immediately look for what's on sale around here".

You stop on your tracks to face the door to your house, hearing the others stop just behind you. Searching for the right key, you add:

"Also please don't mind the fact everything's a big mess, I'm more organized than that but last time I was there it was a week or so ago and I left in a rush".

"Don't apologize, Angel", Poppy replies back, as gentle as ever. "I'm sure it's not even that bad! And, look, even Kissy agrees with me! Right, Kissy?"

The taller girl mutters a quiet "hm-hm" sound.

"Nothing will ever be as bad as the factory, Angel", Dogday adds. You turn around to see Huggy still holding into the dog's poorly-adapted wheelchair, smiling in return. "Besides! You're here with us now! That alone makes things a lot better".

"You guys give me too much credit", oh, finally, you found the key! "I'm just doing what I have to. Anyone else would do the same".

"Li-ar", Mommy Long Leg's voice echoes. "No one never ever took care of Mommy when she was hurt".

"I was the one who tore your arm off, I kind of had to help".

"Li-aaaar".

You sigh, finally opening the door and stepping inside: "C'mon, everyone, it's pretty small but it should do the work for now".

You counted the toys one by one as they entered: Bunzo, PJ, Poppy and Kissy, Dogday and Huggy, a very bubbly Miss Delight guiding Catnap inside, all the mini huggies, all the mini critters, all the other mini toys, then Mommy Long Legs. More than 80 in total.

Thankfully the money you got from that case was enough to cover a house and finances and medical expenses for at least an year for every single one of you. You still didn't know how the court case against the remains of Playtime would go, but with all the evidence against them, it should be enough money for a lifetime, right? You would never be able to pay for everyone's treatment with your current job...

"Angel, dear?", Miss Delight calls. You smile, give one last look outside, and close the door. "What an interesting house you have!"

"Oh, it's nothing much", you put the keys in a small counter, taking off your jacket and throwing your bag in a corner. "Huggy, can you help put Dogday in the sofa?"

"Angel, I'm very sure I can-"

"You need to wait two weeks before you can do any big moves, don't you even think about moving yourself only using your arms again unless you want another emergency surgery, big dog", you immediately cut him off. Dogday sighed, Huggy happily offered his hands to help the big puppy. The mini critters mischievously laughed. "Same thing for every single one of you. Medical orders".

The house's clock pointed at 8:44 PM. It wasn't late, thankfully.

The toys all gathered around the living room, curiously staring and exploring its corners. Someone - Bunzo, maybe? - had entered the kitchen, probably just wanting to take a good look at this new weird place. You decided to let them be, turning the TV on and trying to pick up a channel:

"So, uhm", you mutter. "This is the TV. Didn't change much since '95 except for maybe image quality. We now use CDs and DVDs instead of just cassette tapes, but I'll show that to you guys later. You can grab anything from the kitchen, I don't mind".

You blinked, hearing the sound of your Windows XP computer turning on. Somehow, PJ Pug-a-Pillar had figured out how to use it. You would be proud if not a bit worried:

"You found the computer", you announce to the group. "Okay. Don't mess up too much with that thing, I need it to work. I'll show you guys how to use the internet later, I think you would like it".

Long Legs decided to sit next to the TV, stretching her neck so she could watch it better. The mini critters seemed to really like her, as they still haven't let go of her arm.

"Angel, do you think the news are all still about us?", the spider doll asks.

"Well..."

You sit on the floor so Dogday can see the TV from the sofa. Bunzo immediately jumps to your lap, making himself comfortable. You pet him as images of the abandoned factory covered with cops and investigators appear, headline written as "PLAYTIME CO. INVESTIGATION STILL UNGOING".

You sigh. Bunzo seems to look up at you, confused.

"Is that a good or a bad thing?", his ears move. You stop petting him.

"It's not good nor bad. If the news aren't screaming how the investigation found out how you guys were made, then we can assume the Prototype is doing a good job".

"He always did".

Everyone, including you, turns to stare at Catnap. He decided to sit next to the sofa, lying his back against the wall. The ceiling was too low for him to be comfortable like that...

"Mommy cannot agree with you", Long Legs groans. "Would you want to know hy?"

The feline simply stares uncomfortably at the pink toy. She rolls her eyes, muttering something about him denying the evidence before turning her attention back at the tv. You're glad these two didn't get into a fight again, but you still don't feel comfortable. Most of the bigger toys are sitting on the floor, with the smaller ones either using Kissy, Miss Delight and Dogday or the sofa as a sitting spot.

The images in the TV then cut to you, eye bags and all, staring at the camera and politely answering a question.

"Look!", Bunzo points. "It's mom!"

"I'm not your... Nevermind", you put some of your hair behind your ear. The you in the TV keeps talking:

"No, I didn't see any guards or cops when I came in there", you shake your head, tired.

"No security at all?"

"I mean, the factory is full of weird machines you need to use a thing called a 'grabpack' to make them work, but there wasn't anyone who stopped me from grabbing one and going inside. I bet even a child could have gotten themself trapped in there from how lonely things were outside..."

"Do you think one of the monsters escaped the factory before?"

"The toys, is that what you mean?"

Your eyes finally showed some light as you bit back at the word choice. You lifted your head, now more determined than before:

"If any of them escaped, they are either dead or locked away somewhere by whoever knew about what Playtime was doing. Or do you really think these kids wanted to stay inside that prison? They were fighting each other over what to eat, for God's sake!"

"Angel...", Poppy muttered. "You didn't tell anyone about the..."

"Cannibalism? Hel- heck no. You guys will be regarded as monsters by a lot of people if i do that. Until things calm down, no one outside the investigators of our case will know".

You decide to get up from your spot, much to Bunzo's dismay. You pet his head before stretching yourself, hearing some bones pop:

"The kitchen is right there. Bathroom is there, and my room is there. I don't think there's any clothes good enough for you guys, but we'll see. You must be hungry, right?"

You step into the kitchen, followed by some of the toys and Long Leg's head stretching head. Miss Delight excitedly walks close to you as you look for what you have.

"Well...", you mutter. "I have some snacks and food, but not enough for all of us. Maybe we should get some pizza today, and tomorrow I'll rush to the grocery store".

"... Pizza?", Bunzo asks in the big toy pile that formed at the kitchen's entrance, his head between the smaller huggies. "What's that?"

"It's an italian dish made from bread dough and topped with plenty of ingredients!", Miss Delight answers in her cheerful tone before turning to face you: "But... You have pizza, Angel?"

"No, but I can just ask someone to deliver to us. I have the money", you grab the kitchen's telephone, searching in the drawers for the number of that one very good pizza place your friend worked at. "Since no one here ever ate a pizza I'll just ask for five of each flavor. Might do the job, seeing how many of us are in there..."

You turn, lying against the kitchen's corner, only to realize that everyone was staring at you. Even Catnap had gotten out of his spot, curiously watching, and you could see Dogday's head as he was trying to take a good look at what was going on.

"You guys can explore the house, y'know. It's our house now, not mine", you tell the group, going back to the living room, telephone in hand so the poor giant puppy could be included. Another door was opened, and the mini critters and huggies were now conquering your bedroom. Good for them.

You sat on the floor again. Bunzo proclaimed your lap, and Poppy decided to also sit next to you.

"I don't have to eat, Angel", the doll told you, watching TV. "Prioritize the others, alright?"

"Neither do I!", Dogday replied. "I ate at the hospital, don't worry about me".

You roll your eyes and pet Poppy's head. "I know you don't have to eat, doll, but you, young sir, have to eat. A freaking lot, actually! Didn't I tell you guys food isn't a limited supply anymore?"

A mini critter screamed and something was knocked over. Long Legs immediately got out of her spot, coming out of your room with a mini craftycorn trying to chew on a blanket.

Dogday, however, was whimpering. He lowered his head and fidgeted with his hands: "Are you sure? You did so much for us, Angel..."

"And I'll do even more. I'll be your legal guardian if everything goes well, remember?"

"But..."

Catnap then "accidentally" bumped his tail against Dogday's face. The pup's eyes widened, and you laughed at how offended he looked. The feline pretended to watch television as Dogday stared at him.

"Catnap!"

"I didn't do anything this time".

Now the pup was looking at you for answers. Poppy was laughing as well, all the while Catnap's tail kept bumping into Dogday.

"Listen to what the Angel has to say", he simply told him. "And eat".

You were smiling. Never in a thousand years did you think your life would become this weird, but you were glad it was like this nonetheless.

Then you realized something, and crossed your arms:

"Catnap, you do realize you'll also have to eat a lot instead of giving your food to the mini critters, right?"

The feline's tail stopped moving.

"What".

[yellowbunnydreams]

Do you need some Vitamin D? (Incubus! William x Oblivious! F! Reader) [Part 4]

~Hello all! Thank you so much for your support on this absolutely wild fic! Some of you have mentioned how you really like Will being a big ol' bunny when it comes to his mannerisms, so I thought I'd throw more in there!~

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Want more or something different? *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@ruh--roh-raggy xp-doggy redbunny03 @marigold-petalz @seviliet @astinkerofarat @iamnotwiddle @imtiredshow

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI. Fluff, age gap (Reader 20's - William Afton 40's(?)), teratophilia, meet-cute, punny pick-up lines, scenes of working out, minor porn-logic, ditzy! reader, could be classed as bimbo! reader?, size-difference, flirting, monster-lover, sexual innuendos, Monster! AU

There weren't many boxes or bags to move from William's car into his house. Although you had gasped when you saw it coming up the gravel driveway for the first time.

The house was a little older, although you could faintly make out where there had been some exterior additions and renovations, though it seemed that enough time and care had been put in to try and make them blend with the original house as seamlessly as possible. Pale blue wooden siding and a white painted porch, it felt like some quaint little house you might find in a suburbs rather than down a separate road and hidden away by woodland.

"The woods are my land too, actually if you walk about an hour that way," William pointed off to some vague direction into the woods as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, almost obscured by the tree-line. "You'll find Henry's house. He has quite a lot of woodland too, we're both something of...nature enthusiasts." You didn't notice his face dropping slightly as he covered the secret he nearly let slip.

"Do you get many animals around here then?" William shook his head and shrugged as he manhandled two boxes at once, despite your protests.

"Occasionally you hear something crashing about in the undergrowth, probably just a cougar. Stay inside if you hear anything like that though, don't need you getting eaten like the dessert you are." He chuckled, and you stared at him for a moment before laughing and shaking your head.

"Gee, way to comment on how much sugar I eat Mr. Afton! I know I need to loose a bit of-"

"You need to loose nothing, bunny. I think you look pretty just as you are, I'm sure a lot of boys do too." You blushed at the comment, thinking of it as more fatherly than anything else, picking up the bag with your clothes and heading inside whilst William nudged open the front door with his foot.

Inside the house was surprisingly warm and cozy whilst still remaining spacious. High ceilings that could easily have been eight feet tall, wooden beams integrated into the plasterwork across the ceiling to support the floor above, the walls a warm off white and the furniture that could see in the lounge looked well worn and comfy as well as quite large. But you supposed that William Afton was a tall and broad man, everything was sized to him rather than yourself, so of course it looked huge.

"I'll give you a tour around in a moment, but I want to show you to your room so you get settled in. I'll order take-away if you like?" Tilting his head to one side slightly as he observed you, making sure you weren't struggling with the bag you were carrying before making his way up the stairs, leading you up the hardwood staircase and onto the second floor.

"As long as it isn't pizza. Don't get me wrong, I love Freddy's, and the pizza is good but..."

"Oh no, I totally get it, you eat it during your breaks, you take some home at the end of your shift if there's leftovers. I was thinking Chinese food?" You breathed a sigh of relief that he understood and you nodded enthusiastically as he pushed open a door with a sturdy shoulder.

"Sounds amazing, all that would be needed to finish off as the perfect night would...well one, not be being evicted...but a warm blanket and shared popcorn with a cheesy horror movie...and to share some good company." You shyly suggested, biting at your lip as you wondered if William would even pick up on what you were saying, the older man hummed and his nose twitched slightly as he tapped his foot lightly.

"Well, I have plenty of blankets, and you can always invite a friend around if you want. I know you and Claire get on well?"

The room itself seemed a little smaller than most that you had caught a glimpse of as you moved through the house, but it was still pleasant. The walls were pale yellow and the single bed was made up in a white duvet cover like the one you had at your apartment. A small TV was set up on a dresser at the foot of the bed, and it was plenty big enough for both of you to stand in as William put the boxes down carefully. You couldn't help but feel a pang of self-pity that of course William didn't notice you flirting with him, he was older than you, more experienced and probably didn't see you as anything other than a friend at most, just an employee at the most realistic level.

"I'll let you get unpacked, and I'll order us some food. Probably change too, since I'm still in work clothes, oh!" Knocking his head lightly with his rough knuckles as he smiled down at you. "Bathroom is next door, it's a shared one for the floor and the master bedroom, so just...knock? I'll keep the door locked if I'm in there." And with that, he squeezed past you and disappeared back down the stairs, hearing his heavy footsteps on the creaking floorboards and leaving you standing on your own in your new temporary home.

Sighing, your shoulders slumped and you grabbed the bag roughly, setting it on the bed and pulling out the items you had packed to put them in their proper places. It was going to be a long time in the Afton house, of that you felt certain.

You sat back in your chair at the dinner table that William had set out for your dinner, feeling absolutely stuffed after he had ordered a selection of just about anything you could have thought of and more. William had eaten almost twice as much as you, and you found yourself wondering where he put it all beside the firm looking dad-bod he had always sported. There was little conversation during dinner, both too hungry and enticed by the delectable spread to bother trying to make small talk, but you felt you needed to break the silence.

"Thank you again, Mr. Afton, that was great." Afton gave you a lopsided smile and chuckled as he placed a hand on his stomach. He'd changed into a tight fitting t-shirt and sweatpants, which you had had to tear your eyes away from his broad and strong looking body several times whilst you ate, at least getting away with the flush to your cheeks that he interpreted as somethings being too spicy for you.

It was certainly the most comfortable you'd ever seen the older man.

"Please, call me William when we're alone. I feel so fucking old when you keep calling me 'Mr. Afton'." He groaned playfully, smiling as your own features softened into a smile back. You thought the slight dimples you could see through the salt and pepper hair were rather charming.

"Wills."

"Don't push it, bunny." Shaking his head as you laughed, watching how you leaned forwards onto the table with your elbows propped up, head resting on your hands as you looked at each other down the table. He took the opportunity to look at how your hair picked up the light and affected the colour of it, the way your skin reacted when you flushed red, the soft curve of your features compared to his rougher, more angular ones.

But he could see the tiredness behind your eyes and he smiled softly. Heavy food and the warm conditions he liked to keep his home in making you sleepy as you blinked rapidly, realising just how tired you were from the day.

"Why don't you get some sleep, sweetheart? I'll phone in tomorrow for you if you like, take a chance to get some rest. It's been emotionally draining for you." His deep voice was warm too, and it made you want to curl up and fall asleep to it, you decided that if he could give you one of those hugs like you'd gotten earlier whilst he was at it, you would have been perfectly content.

You knew that was never going to happen though.

"You're right Mr.....William." Catching yourself at the last moment and feeling the heat creeping back into your cheeks as he chuckled, standing up together and William let one of his large hands wander from his side to the top of your head, gently patting your head and ruffling your hair as he gave you a soft, crinkled eyed smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, little bunny. I hope that you sleep well."

"And you William."

He hated to see you go, but loved to watch you leave. Watching as you climbed the stairs before he sighed and started to gather up the dishes, putting them into the dish washer if they were empty and packing up leftovers and sticking them in the fridge. Tapping his foot after a moment or two, he ran his fingers through his hair and felt his ears coming back through, letting them hang as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. He needed to spend a little less time in completely human form.

Heading outside, he took a deep breath in as the cool air hit him. Feeling his fur pressing against his t-shirt as his body relaxed and he lost some of his humanity, or at least his human appearance. Lopsided rabbit ears, his teeth sharp and nails long points, nose flatter and broader as it twitched whilst he shoved his large, rough hands into his pockets and pulled out packet of cigarettes.

Just as he lit one and put it to his lips, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Grumbling to himself, he took a drag before he picked it up and tapped the screen carefully, considering his sharper, longer nails before awkwardly holding it against his ear.

"Yes?"

"Well hello to you too, Afton, so nice for you to answer me." William rolled his eyes and breathed in deeply as the end of the cigarette burned brightly against the night sky. Listening to the staticky voice on the end of the line as his ear flickered slightly.

"You've only called once, dickhead, spit it out." He growled, hearing the choking, wheezing laugh before he could almost imagine the smug man on the other end shaking his head.

"Feisty! Well, I would be too if I had such a sweet little thing like that staying in my house, I'd be a little defensive too." The fur on the back of William's neck stood on end and he straightened up, looking out into the dark with his purple eyes, blinking slowly as he let out a low growl. Watching, waiting for anything to move.

"Are you fucking stalking me, Dave?"

"Stalking is such a strong word, William. I prefer....Taking a vested interest." The voice crackled over the phone and William could practically hear the sleazy confidence oozing through as he stamped his foot against the porch, thumping unhappily.

"Take your vested interest and fuck off, if I find so much as a hair out of place on her-"

"Calm, breathe. I can't step foot inside now, your little morsel has protected both you and her from my curiosity." William took another drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out on the porch balcony, twisting and grinding down the embers like he imagined doing to Dave in that moment in time.

"The only curiosity you have is in whether or not she knows about us. And the answer is no, she never will either." William heard Dave tutting and sucking his teeth in return.

"Never is far too definite for things like us, you should know that by now, Afton." The line went dead and William was once again left to the silence and the dark outside of his home. Listening intently for a few moments longer before thumping again and heading inside, nose twitching as his brow creased in frustration with his unfortunate acquaintance.

You woke up to sunlight streaming through the blinds to your small room, groaning and gently rubbing your eyes with the heel of your palm, you sat up and grabbed the Spring-Bonnie plushie from where it had fallen on the floor during the night, looking up at you sadly from the warm hardwood. You felt almost sleep drunk from how deeply you had slept, but as you put your feet down on the warm floor and padded out, you swore you smelt breakfast.

Using the bathroom to freshen up and heading downstairs, you were quite surprised to see William already up and stood in his kitchen, his broad back turned to you and allowing you a rare moment to observe him in his natural habitat.

He was wearing the same t-shirt from the night before, and you took the time to admire how it hugged the broad curves of his shoulders and revealed the muscular definition in his back. The way the light caught his greying hair and made it look lighter, the slight beard he kept looking slightly like he had recently shaven. You had been right though, you could smell breakfast cooking, mixed with spiced cologne and what you presumed was his shower-gel as he seemed to pause before turning around. Giving you a large, warm smile as he spotted you, his glasses perched on his nose and adjusting them with one finger as he gestured for you to come over.

"Good morning sleepy-head! How did you sleep?" You hadn't painted William Afton as a morning person, but you were happy to be proven wrong as he carefully held a pan with various fried breakfast bits inside.

"Whatever mattress you have is so soft..I don't think I've ever slept on anything that comfy before! How did you sleep?" Watching as William shrugged, running his free hand through his slightly messy hair and slicking it back into more of it's usual position.

"Eh, didn't sleep much myself, bunny, I'm just an insomniac I guess." He smiled, cocking his head to one side and plating up quickly now that you were up and about, he hadn't wanted to disturb you, but his mind had been left all too wired after the phone call the previous night, the slight dark circles under his steely eyes betraying that fact. "Come on, eat up! I thought that you needed to eat something delicious after that shit-show yesterday."

You raised an eyebrow at him, having never heard your boss swear, at least in front of the employees. But you dug in happily and moaned in satisfaction as you tasted it, quickly moving to wolf it down in a way that made William beam with pride that you liked his cooking so much. He hoped that he would be able to take care of you whilst you stayed with him, maybe plant the idea that he could take care of you a lot more if you let him, but he kept his expectations tempered as he chewed his lip, feeling his teeth sharpening a little as he stared at you for a moment in thought.

"What's the plan for today then? I know you're not on the rota, so I was wondering what you wanted to get up to." Tilting his head to one side, you paused for a moment in thought, slowing down your ravenous chewing before thinking of a suitable reply to the question.

"Well, I'm going to enjoy some good company, maybe go to the library and get out a few books, be out of your hair for a while."

"Oh bunny, you can be in my hair as much as you like. I like having my hair touched." William caught himself off guard with how direct he was, but you gave him that sweet smile and giggled like it had gone well over your head again.

"Well, I'm not exactly tall enough to fix your hair." His heart stopped for a moment, was this finally it, the moment he had waited for since he decided to start flirting with you, had one landed?

"It's okay bunny, I'll be happy to get on my knees for you, plus I can imagine the view is very nice down there." Chewing the corner of his lip, he watched your expressions, and feeling disappointment as your expression turned confused.

"I mean...maybe? But it must be nice to see the world from so high up!" Offering him the clueless smile that William Afton had to admit that he adored, even if he knew it was never going to end up as he wanted it.

"You know what? Never mind, how about we get some clothes on and we pick up some groceries and ice-cream for later?"

"Oh, okay! I really like-" spouting off your favourite flavour and your preferred brand as William gently shooed you up the stairs, but not before thumping his foot and twitching his nose behind your back. Frustrated that perhaps he really was the world's worst incubus.

[loupy-mongoose]

So, I started my break (it's two weeks long, not the three weeks I thought it was earlier), and I have a fixation to play with... but I also seem to have gotten a bug of some kind. XP

Thankfully I'm not, like, super miserable. It's more an irritation and tiring than anything else. But it's getting in the way of drawing! >:U

I have been chipping away at the start of Project MOLD though, and I'm super excited about it! ^U^

So, while I continue to chug away at it, here's a little sneaky peeky~

[ivysangel]

ro ro ro who do you think is the bigger munch jason or dick?? me personally i lean towards dick but idk i think they both live for it

-partition anon

this is so hard because i really do think they both get down with the pussy???? i'm a little sleepy rn so i'm having a hard time conveying my thoughts so idek if this makes sense. might have to revisit this later and give it a (more) #proper answer

i think dick likes eating you out because he enjoys pleasuring you (duh) but also because it gives him a little ego boost. it's like he gets +10 XP every time he makes you cum and that makes him horny. but also, he definitely does it to have some power over you in the sense that he likes to go down you and then bring you so close to the edge that you're begging him to fuck you. like, it's his idea to have sex but then he's gonna turn it around on you so that it ends up kind of being your idea…if that even makes sense

i think jason's indifferent to it. he does it purely for your pleasure. he doesn't really get anything out of it other than your happiness, and that's completely fine by him, even if it doesn't lead to anything else (although it usually does). but like i said, he's indifferent, so his more preferred way of making you cum. he prefers fucking you, it's more intimate, and i think he likes the skin-to-skin contact and the connection that comes with it

at the end of the day, they both do it and they're both good at it but dick does it significantly more frequently than jason. BUT. you and dick probably have sex more often anyway so i'm not even sure it's comparable

[thecreaturecodex]

Draxie

Image © Paizo Publishing, accessed at Archives of Nethys here

[The last of the variant sprite lineages from PF 2e's Bestiary 3, and I think the cutest. A little redundant, with faerie dragons (or fey dragonets, I guess) already existing, but when has redundancy ever gotten in the way of monster designers?]

Draxie CR 3 CG Fey This little humanoid is barely a foot tall, with a scaly hide, a long tail and membranous wings. They have small sharp teeth and horns and frills of skin instead of hair.

Draxies, or dragon sprites, are playful, flighty and keen pranksters. They often engage in escalating prank wars with pixies and fairie dragons, both of whom they get along well with. Draxies can be patient when planning some manner of joke or trick, and may spend months or even years for the payoff for a perfect joke. Draxies claim to have their origins in the powerful faerie dragon Elucredrassa, who upon her death reincarnated into a hundred draxies, who spread throughout the First World and then to the Material Plane. Draxies still honor her with the elucera, a soul-bond a draxie might make with a creature or creatures they are particularly fond of. Entering an elucera with a draxie makes one that draxie’s family as much as any blood relative; draxies take their obligations to elucera-mates more seriously than anything else.

Draxies rarely start fights, but are happy to finish them. A draxie is much more skilled at annoying an enemy into fleeing or parleying then they are with direct violence; their first order of business when attacked is usually to breathe draxie dust on an opponent. Unlike the breath of a faerie dragon, which induces a sort of stoned euphoria, draxie breath can cause this along with several other mind-influencing abilities. Even a draxie doesn’t know what its breath will do at any given moment, and they have great fun adapting to the situation as it elapses. If a draxie wants to do permanent harm, it usually relies on its mind thrust spell-like ability.

Draxies come in a wide variety of colors, and most of them have multicolored fringes running along their heads in place of hair, along their backs and on the tips of their tails. Their nails are usually worn long but are too fragile to be used as claws. Their jaws, however, are remarkably powerful for their size. Draxies are omnivorous with a taste for fruit and insects.

Draxie CR 3 XP 800 CG Tiny fey Init +4; Senses low-light vision, Perception +9

Defense AC 17, touch 16, flat-footed 13 (+2 size, +4 Dex, +1 natural) hp 22 (5d6+5) Fort +4, Ref +8, Will +5 DR 5/cold iron

Offense Speed 15 ft., fly 40 ft. (average) Melee bite +8 (1d8-1) Space 2 ½ ft.; Reach 0 ft. Special Attacks draxie dust Spell-like Abilities CL 3rd, concentration +6 (+10 casting defensively) At will—dancing lights, ghost sound (DC 13), mind thrust I (DC 14), prestidigitation 3/day—disguise self (DC 14) 1/day—glitterdust (DC 15), invisibility

Statistics Str 9, Dex 18, Con 13, Int 16, Wis 13, Cha 16 Base Atk +2; CMB +4; CMD 13 Feats Combat Casting, Great Fortitude, Weapon Finesse Skills Acrobatics +12 (+8 when jumping), Bluff +11, Disguise +11, Diplomacy +11, Fly +16, Knowledge (nature) +11, Perception +9, Perform (comedy) +11, Stealth +20 Languages Common, Sylvan, touch telepathy SQ natural guise

Ecology Environment any forests Organization solitary, pair, flight (3-6) or family (7-24) Treasure standard

Special Abilities Draxie Dust (Su) As a standard action once every 1d4 rounds, a draxie can breathe magical dust in a 15 foot cone. All creatures in the area must succeed a DC 15 Will save or suffer from one of the following random effects (roll 1d4): 1. charmed (as per charm monster) for 1 minute 2. asleep (as per the sleep spell, no HD limit) for 1 minute 3. loses the last 5 minutes of memory 4. sickened, staggered and immune to fear effects for 1 minute This is a mind influencing enchantment effect, and the save DC is Charisma based. A draxie can use this ability once every 1d6 rounds, but a creature cannot be suffering from more than one draxie dust effect at a time. Natural Guise (Ex) When a draxie uses disguise self, it can appear as any Tiny creature with the fey or animal types. Touch Telepathy (Su) A draxie can telepathically communicate with any creature it is in physical contact with, regardless of whether they share a spoken language.

[em1e]

⠀ ⠀走った // BRUISED KNUCKLES && BUSTED LIPS ⠀ ༝ ༝ ran haitani ⠀ ༝ ༝ 1k words ⠀ ⚠︎ mentions of blood xp maybe angst if u squint ⠀ — ran likes knowing he has you to take care of him when he needs.

it shouldn’t really come to you as a surprise much, anymore. 

when ran stumbles through your front door unannounced, blood smeared on his cheek and knuckles busted beyond anything you could really do to help. 

and despite you insisting he should go to the hospital, or a doctor, or any sort of medical professional, someone who can properly treat his wounds and potentially give him medication for whatever he might need, he denies you. insists that ‘your touch is all he needs’ with that stupid grin he knows you eat up. 

so, with a heavy sigh, you’re pulling out your first aid kit, one that has certainly grown over the years ran has made himself known in your life. he’s already sitting comfortable on your couch, ignoring the look you give when he has no regard for potential blood stains that might come from it. 

“you know what i think?” you mumble, helping him out of his t-shirt to assess the damages under his clothes before getting a small rag and pouring some alcohol onto it. 

“what?” he hisses out when you press the cloth onto his freshly wounded knuckles, trying your best to be gentle despite the fact you’ve warned him you wouldn’t help him the next time he comes by. ran is a parasite and you are a healthy host, unable to tell him no, even if your life depended on it. 

“i think you like this,” you accuse, taking the rag away to examine how well you’ve cleaned his fist, “think you like being coddled and babied by me.” 

“do you now?” his words are teasing, grin growing when he sees how focused you are to bandage and wrap as softly as your fingers allow. 

“mhm,” you let go of one fist in favor of the other, repeating the same steps, “i think you get into fights just to be able to come to my door like a wounded puppy. lets you play into being defenseless when you aren’t.” 

“who said anything ‘bout me being defenseless,” he lifts his chin, straightening his shoulders despite you telling him to not move, “maybe i like knowin’ i have someone to come to after i’ve kicked some ass - you bein’ pretty is a plus too.” 

you ignore the comment, or it’d be followed by him teasing you for your warm cheeks, and press the rag a little harder than necessary into his hand. it has him inhaling sharply and trying to withdraw himself from you, but you keep him in place and click your teeth. 

“told you not to move.” you instruct, and he slumps when he realizes it didn’t get a rile out of you like he wanted. 

when you finish with the other knuckle, you’re moving to his chest. wiping down bloodied spots, unsure if it’s his or someone else’s staining his tattooed skin. he winces when you get to his ribs, trying his best to hide it, but from the look you give him he knows you know. 

once he’s wiped down, you gently wrap his torso in hopes of that helping his potentially bruised ribs, fingers lingering at his chest a moment longer than necessary before moving on. 

“who’d you fight, anyways?” you find yourself asking when you finally get to his face. 

remnants of a bloody nose sit under his nostril, a busted lip, and scratched cheek adorn his otherwise pretty face and it has you frowning, tugging at one of his braids when he doesn’t answer you. 

“ow- some nurse you are, abusing your patients.” 

“you’re lucky that’s all i do,” you grumble, knee knocking into his when you adjust the way you’re sitting to hold his face properly, “i should give you another busted lip for coming here so late.” 

one hand grips under his chin while the other starts cleaning with more alcohol, careful to not get it into his mouth or too close to his eye, and you switch it in favor of water when you get to his nose. his eyes are half-lidded while he watches you, eyeing you in a way that has you needing to keep your hands busy or you fear he’d catch the way they shake. 

it takes maybe an hour to clean him up completely, patting his thigh when you’re done and sliding away from him. worried he might hear your erratic heart beating inside your chest if you stay too close, but he’s closing any distance you choose to put by spreading his legs wide. his thigh hits yours and it has you fiddling with the hem of your shirt. 

“what’s got you all worked up?” it’s light hearted, they way he asks, teasing and oh so sweet and unlike ran - one of tenjiku’s heavenly kings who very well could have murdered someone tonight. the shift in your demeanor has you sighing and standing to put your first aid kit away.

except, when you move to do so, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you down into his lap. you stumble at the sudden movement, falling with your knees at either side of his waist, and if the impact hurts his ribs he makes no noise showing it. 

“‘m talkin’ to you.” he mutters, one hand still on your wrist while the other finds purchase on your waist to keep you there. 

and this is more like the ran you know. demanding and needy and pretty.  

“we talked about this last time.” is all you can manage out, too shocked by the sudden movements to actually give him a reply. 

“‘bout what? i’m just askin’ you a question,” but he’s leaning forward, eyes trailing from your own to the way you have your lower lip pulled between your teeth and back, “just askin’ what’s up with you.” 

“i’m not gonna be your next fling, ran.” you sigh, pressing your hand to his mouth when he starts to get too close, “‘m not like that, you know that.” 

“who said anythin’ ‘bout a fling.” he pulls your hand from his face and kisses your fingertips and the action has you flushing, looking away from him to hide it. 

“i’m being serious.” 

“and i’m takin’ you seriously.” 

when you finally look back at him, he has that stupid grin you can’t ignore, and it has you faltering. ran is a parasite, and you can’t tell him no. not when he’s looking at you like he’d eat you alive.

[funkyplantguy]

Maybe Permit Manager Cub giving Mumbo special treatment because he likes him? (Bonus if Grian is a little jealous in the background xP)

ohohohoho...yes...incredible, thank you very much... - mumbo liked to think that he was a man who had a fairly standard daily routine.

most days, he started his day off with breakfast. usually an apple (golden), or some other piece of fruit or bread - something easy to eat quickly and on the go. he was a very busy man, after all - he had quite a few farms and projects that he needed to check in with on a regular basis, and one very pesky neighbor who seemed intent on derailing him at every step. (not that he minded. it was just grian, after all - and who was he to deny grian?) next usually came lunch, then the afternoons were typically spent goofing off in some way or another with grian or scar or any one of the assorted hermits he called family. then dinner (mumbo staunchly believed in three full meals a day), then a quiet evening tinkering around in his base until it was time to call it quits for the night. pretty straightforward, all things considered, with only the occasional event or festival to derail his carefully laid out plans.

nowhere in his routine was getting practically eye-fucked by cub as he sat, squirming awkwardly, across from him at his desk, but hey - mumbo could be flexible! he could allot time out of his day for...whatever this was.

what this was, grian had explained earlier, in a huff of bristling feathers and irritated whining, was a negotiation. grian wanted a raise - that is, to be paid at all for the "very important work" he was doing as the assistant to the permit office manager - and for some reason, he thought bringing mumbo along would help him plead his case. unfortunately, all it had seemed to do so far was distract cub. "mumbo? mumboooooooo? mumbo, you in there? hello? anyone home?" mumbo jolted, banging his elbow (quite painfully, thanks for asking) on the desk as he wrenched around to look at grian. his face flushed a deep red as he was met with both grian and cub's direct attention - though varied, in the expressions adorning their faces. grian, for one, looked furious - earwings fluttering in irritation as he stared at mumbo incredulously. cub, however, looked deeply, concerningly satisfied, and not at all like he'd been paying a lick of attention to what grian had been saying, either. "are you listening? i was just telling cub about all the countless hours i spend on making sure that all of the shops in the shopping district are up to snuff, and how just the other day i spent at least 6 helping you restock that god-awful gold shop you have!" that...was not entirely true. mainly what grian had done during those 6 hours was perch on mumbo's shoulder and complain that he wasn't giving him enough attention. but if grian considered that "helping"... "huh? oh, yes, quite." "see?" grian exclaimed, turning back to cub. "he agrees - the work i'm doing here is very important, and deserves to be compensated." cub hummed noncomittally, and mumbo was suddenly drawn to how relaxed the other man looked, reclining slightly in his chair. poor grian. "i don't know, g," he mused, eyes flickering from grian to mumbo, then back again. "i think that mumbo here has just as much of a claim for compensation as you do. he helped you with that sign out front, didn't he?" "the pop-up purge sign?" grian responded, his voice climbing in volume. "the one where he added an ass to your likeness?"

"correct." "i really don't think that -"

"to be fair," mumbo mused, more to himself than anyone else. "it was quite a nice ass." "it was a nice ass. thank you, mumbo." "you're welcome, cub." for a moment, grian just stared at the two of them, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. cub stared back, blue eyes unblinking, as if challenging him to disagree. mumbo, for his part, opted to stare at anything but grian. then the moment had passed, and grian let out a huff, pushing his chair back and standing to his feet. "you know what? fine. compensate mumbo, for all i care. but don't come crying to me when the shopping district goes to shit with just scar and skizz in charge. i quit!" and with that he was off, soaring out the window and into the distance - no doubt going to scar's base to seek comfort (and to complain his ear off for the next several hours). mumbo let out a surprised laugh, then turned back to cub, freezing as he took in the way the other's gaze was now locked solely on him. "so...," cub started, and mumbo felt a shiver run down his spine at the tone. "it looks like there's an opening here at the permit office. interested?"

[aydafigs]

ooh I have so many thoughts on The Rat Grinders discourse okay

on the one hand, I think it's completely reasonable to be disappointed that there was no attempt from The Bad Kids to engage with TRG beyond just killing them as quickly and bloodily as possible, or no effort from Brennan to present that as an option. I agree that it sucks that these teenagers, who have been corrupted by rage crystals and are presumably being manipulated by authority figures, are being treated as irredeemably evil and therefore condemned to hell forever for their crimes - and I agree that it feels incongruent narratively, when a big arc this season involved 'redeeming' a corrupted goddess, and a key theme has been the power of utilising doubt to overcome rage. I also think it's a shame that Fig's past attempts to engage with Reuben were ultimately forgotten about and rendered useless (and I definitely got the impression that Emily herself was also frustrated about this).

however! I do also completely understand it from a gameplay, genre, and storytelling perspective.

firstly, mostly just as a sidenote, I think it's worth acknowledging that a lot of 'real-world' thinking and logic surrounding death and ‘redemption’ and the moral complexities of 'good vs evil' don't always work within Fantasy High or d&d. death is treated much more flippantly in a world where characters can and do regularly plane-shift to the very real and tangeable afterlives. it's harder to think of death as truly an end to someone's life when it is known for certain that those who die are actually continuing to live alternate lives on different planes of existence - and I think from a meta perspective this inevitably affects the way players think about killing NPCs within a story. no one is ever truly gone; they're just living somewhere else now.

additionally, in-universe, the prospect of dying or being killed is an accepted risk for those attending Aguefort. they're training to be adventurers, and as fucked up as it is, a key element of the universe and genre that this story takes place in is that people - including teenagers - die on adventures, and this risk is entirely normalised and considered unfortunate but necessary. it's one of those genre-specific tropes that you have to accept for the world to function. this is d&d, this is fantasy adventuring high school, teenagers have to save the world from other, villainous teenagers. it's every teen supernatural/fantasy drama. it's Teen Wolf. it's fucking Riverdale. as Brennan has put it before, "it's adventuring school. people die."

The Rat Grinders are not the heroes of this story - and what is so interesting about them, at least to me, is that they know that. there's a lot of excellent analysis of TRG as existing on a meta level even within the story; they're power gamers, they're XP farmers, they know they're NPCs; and this is the source of Kipperlilly's anger. Kipperlilly's rage stems from knowing that she is ordinary; that she doesn't have a tragic backstory, that she will never save the world, that she and her friends aren't a notorious adventuring party or 'found family' or anything other than regular. so she set out to become Not Ordinary by any means necessary - and if she and The Rat Grinders couldn't be the heroes, they had to become the villains. whether or not TRG 'deserved' to die or not is a moot point, I think. it's not about what they deserve. their story, and especially Kipperlilly's story, is a tragedy in this way; she was doomed by the narrative from the moment she started to write herself as the villain.

The Rat Grinders are, narratively, the Big Bads of the season; the Final Bosses of this game of d&d. this final battle is necessary to conclude the story in an exciting and climactic and satisfying way. it would simply not be as exciting, either for the players or the audience, if this season ended with The Bad Kids talking it out with The Rat Grinders and convincing them to switch sides. at the end of the day, this isn't a movie or a TV show. this is a game, being played in real time by real people who are improvising and having fun while collaboratively telling a story together. of course, the storytelling on this show is phenomenal - but it's never going to be able to do everything. they don't have a room of writers pitching ideas to write perfectly timed and paced scripts for character arcs and resolutions. they're a group of improv comedians playing a roleplay and combat-centric game together. they're playing d&d. they’re playing heroes fighting bad guys.

I do think there's a lot of valid criticism around rage and manipulation and who is considered worthy of 'redemption'. I just also think there's a middle ground somewhere between "The Bad Kids killing The Rat Grinders is awful and evil and bad storytelling and everyone involved should feel bad" and "haha suck it Rat Grinders fans, told you they were always evil". ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk. it's all love now. [smooch]

[eddiestightywhities]

FUCK IT FRIDAY

WARNINGS: explicit, passive suicidality

i posted this at like five AM when i couldn't get back to sleep, but i'm now classing it as fuck it friday from last week lol where i was tagged by the lovely @daffi-990 (i think?!)

it's buddie flavoured buck pov that i have no real idea what to do with yet. it has passive suicidality, explicit thoughts/content, and some strange facts about the animal kingdom/humans/the world etc that might gross some people out, so i'm whacking it beneath a cut xp

Sometimes, Buck thinks about killing himself. Not actual like fantasising or anything, it's more just—a brief but crystal clear notion that sort of washes over him. Most times, it's when he's doing okay mentally, and just remembering the times when he wasn't. What strikes him the most about it is that it's truly like a light bulb moment every single time—just kind of like actually, wouldn't that be a fucking great solution to my problem? even though he's easily had the exact same thought a few dozen times before. 

Objectively, he knows it's an odd thing to think about. Weird to be thinking that way in general. Like, he gets that it's strange to muse over taking your own life in such a 'whatever' blasé sort of fashion, it's just that Buck's sidled up to Death—brash and cocky yet fluttering his lashes and toying with its scythe with a pinkie finger like he's putting the moves on it or some shit—so many fucking times by this point, like, since he could walk and talk, pretty much, that thinking about it doesn't really feel all that odd or weird or strange to him.

It's not like he would ever actually do it, it's just—a thing he thinks sometimes. Kind of like when he thinks about crowding into Eddie and pressing him into something hard and flat or soft and giving, and slipping his tongue into Eddie's mouth before flipping him over and sliding his dick between Eddie's ass cheeks and kissing the back of Eddie's neck and his crown and his shoulder blades while rutting into his friend like a dog in heat. Until it all becomes something messier and far less controlled. More desperate. Feral, maybe; kind of like clinging to life when there's death around every corner. Until he's not so much kissing Eddie anymore but using Eddie's body to keep on breathing and to plant little seeds of hope there that could grow into something like a life. Until he's not so much rutting anymore as he is fucking his feelings into the pores of his best friend's skin so that Eddie knows good and proper that Buck loves loves loves him, more than anybody else has or does or can or could, like there's maybe a small chance Buck might come good on his not-fantasy of shuffling off this mortal coil if Eddie were to ever leave him. And they're not even, like, together, so... Yeah. It's not like he'd actually do any of those things, they're just—things he thinks sometimes. 

Buck is also pretty much constantly thinking about stuff like how butterflies enjoy drinking blood even though they don't really have the biological apparatus to do it properly and how the average person might be eating something like a credit card's-worth of microplastics in any given week and how there's a rogue black hole in our galaxy which has a mass seven times greater than our sun and how fir trees can viably grow inside a human lung and how the idea of cannibalism doesn't really freak him out as much as he thinks it's probably supposed to, and so many other things that other people seem to think are fucked-up things to be thinking about.

They're just thoughts, to Buck, though, so maybe he just finds shit like this hard to gauge.

Hmm, food for thought, maybe. Or, y'know, something like that.

[yanderenightmare]

Hi there, question kind of? How would you rank the Haikyuu boys (not all of them clearly you can pick) in terms of most likely to be possessive towards their partner? I'm curious of your take :)

HAIKYUU ! HEADCANONS

haikyuu boys x darling

TW: yandere, possessive, obsessive and controlling behaviour, abuse, manipulation

Most possessive haikyuu boys, you say...

Is all of them an option?

I mean... these are competitors, and personally, I think competitors are a very specific breed of somewhat toxic feelings – and that’s aside from their grandiose sense of self. We have a name for it in Norwegian; we call them competition-humans– which basically refers to that feral state some people get into during a competition, where they have complete tunnel vision and lack all sorts of a moral compass in their chase of victory.

And I think competitors as yanderes view love with that same type of tunnel vision. How they have a goal to reach, and nothing and no one is going to stop them, and nothing and no one is going to take it away from them.

That being said… I think some of the Haikyuu boys are more competitive than others.

Oikawa Toru Possessive & Controlling

“If you’re gonna hit it, hit it ‘til it breaks.” – that’s his motto, stating his principle of never going at things half-assed – his aim to be the best, in addition to the middle finger he shows anyone who doesn’t cut it.

Victory is his way of life. And his relationships better live up to it. Anything less would just be embarrassing. 

Losing his girl would be embarrassing. 

Moreover, anything you do reflects on him, and he’d be damned if it reflects poorly. So you bet your ass he’s possessive of you – and controlling. You’re part of his great empire of success, and losing you would be like this huge stain, this huge defeat – failure. And Oikawa Toru doesn’t fail. Oikawa Toru doesn’t get defeated. Oikawa Toru doesn’t lose.

Kageyama Tobio Possessive & Obsessive

The perfect set can’t be completed if he drops the ball. You are his perfect set, and he’s never ever dropping the ball with you – never losing you and never ever letting you go.

He wants you screaming his name in the bleachers – be his cheerleader – keep your eyes on him and only him. Tell him how great he was. Be his victory prize, his trophy, his treat.

He wants to feel you at his fingertips – drag them over your smooth skin and just touch you – keep you all to himself. And he doesn’t want anyone doing the same. Seeing people talk to you is bad enough. He needs you to focus on him like he’s the only one on the court, and everyone else is just extras – sorry pawns in his triumph.

Kuroo Tetsuro Possessive & Smug

You’re the biggest reason behind that big fat grin of his – because he knows that he has something no one else has. His object of envy – a big 'ol fuck you to absolutely everyone.

More than a trophy, more than arm candy, more than a crown atop his head – you’re his lucky golden ticket into heaven – his cheat sheet that makes him feel like a winner – superior. And everyone else can suck it. 

They can look all they want – seethe with jealousy – hate him. It’ll only make him savor it more. Seeing those frustrated looks on people’s faces, like he’s beating them – like he’s got something that everyone else wants but can’t have because it’s his.

Kenma Kozume Possessive & Fanatical

Losing you means game over – and he isn’t in the mood to restart. He’s put time and effort into your relationship – and since life’s only option is hardcore mode, he hasn’t been able to leave any checkpoints.

You’re not player two; you’re all the valuable loot he’s picked up along the way. His precious inventory. His xp and upgrades and level x – his special limited edition item. You belong to him; he’s earned you.

He’s been dedicated and worked hard and put too much effort into achieving you – so no way is he about to share you with anyone who hasn’t chipped in, and he’s most certainly not about to lose you either.

They’d have to beat him first.

Kyotani Kentaro Possessive & Dogged

He goes for the throat. People can test him – fucking try it – they’d be lucky if they could count the cuts, fractures, and breaks. He doesn’t let up easily, and once he sees a sliver of red – he isn’t stopping until that’s all he sees.

And you – try and leave; he’s like a dog with a bone – his canines will remain deep and only bite down deeper if you try and break free. The look on his face is enough to make you wince without the way he twists your hair in his fist.

People are afraid to be seen with you. Talking to you is like blood on the breeze, and maddog comes at them with fangs bared, ready to bite before barking. He doesn’t take it easy on you either – like a hound tearing his toy apart before another pup can get to it.

tip-jar: Kofi

[katsona-the-katsequel]

How are shadows/personas different from demons?

This is going to be a long one, sweet!

First, let´s discuss shadows and demons from a Doylist perspective: The franchise mostly treats them as if they were the same thing. That´s because P1 and P2 are more closely tied to the main SMT games, being more clear on the fact that Persona is from the same timeline as Devil Summoner and all that. After P2:EP they did a soft reboot and began coming up with new terminology, for example, changing the names of the main enemies from "demons" to "shadows". This could be either to stick closer to the Jungian mythos or separate the Persona franchise from the main SMT one. For them, demons and shadows (lowercase "s") could be the same thing, changing only their purpose and use depending on if you´re a Devil Summoner (like Tamaki or Kyouji) or a Persona User (like literally everyone else). We can see some differences if we pay attention, like the fact demons can appear anywhere at anytime while shadows are relegated to a specific place or event. Nyarlathotep is mostly seen as having complete control over demons while Nyx is declared as the origin of all shadows. But really? These are too little and too few differences to really separate them as different entities. Anyone can ally with a demon or shadow if they like you, they are both defeated by a Persona or other demons, lots of them can be found near places where a higher being has control, they are not the actual beings they´re called after but representations, Jack Frost...

In-universe, though? You would believe Igor would be helpful, having appeared in every game, but he just changes their terminology as if they were socks. Whose to say that Nyarly just took demons/shadows as part of his sphere of influence since Nyx wasn´t doing much of anything? Or that any other "god" just shaped the way they worked according to what they needed for their "games"? Heck, I would be more inclined to believe that they ARE actually the same thing. We can´t take P2 as the base for how they work since Nyarly was fucking everything up so rumors became reality, thinning the walls between the physical world and the Unconscious. But if they are the same... what is their actual name? Someone but be wrong, right? For this, we´re going to have to check the moment the Persona Users first named their enemies. See if their sources are trustworthy, since I believe Igor just goes along with whatever his guests call them.

Elly is the one to name them "demons" in P1 while the Kirijo Group named them "shadows". Neither of them are credible sources (sorry, Elly, but you saw them for the first time that day). The real deal starts when its Teddie, an actual member of their species, who calls them "shadows". Morgana, though less credible than Teddie, also calls them shadows. So, that´s the correct term, right?

Philemon, one of the two most powerful beings in the Persona universe (aside from whatever the fuck Nyx is), calls them "demons". The way I see it is that these boogers call themselves "shadows", while Dr. Phil, Nyarly, and similar beings call them "demons". The reason Igor uses the terms interchangeably is that they are both technically correct.

In truth, what we call demons or shadows are actually archetypes from the Collective Unconscious. All the little boogers were plucked from their homes in the Sea of Souls or wandered too far and ended up as lackeys in dungeons, palaces, a god´s game, or just in the way of a Persona User trying to grind for XP.

Being a Jungian archetype, demons/shadows can easily become Personas once they connect with a Wild Card´s psyche. That´s why they ask questions to see if they vibe with you or to see if you´re gay (This happened to my friend Tatsuya). Demons/shadows are already patterns of thought and behavior just waiting for realization. Innate potential. But for now they´re just... shadows.

Teddie is just a beary smart archetype that gained a conscience of its own, and continued learning from the people around him. Look at him go!