#his claws are made from extra bone anyway
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albatris · 2 years ago
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yassminesboo · 3 months ago
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Lookism chapter 514: little rant
This is stupid as fuck at this point, genuinely one of the worst lookism chapters i've read so far.
I've been here since 2020, I've felt a lot of things when reading lookism, excitement, giddiness, sadness, suspense but never have i ever felt actual "what the fuck is going on" rage ever while reading lookism.
Nothing in this whole "hunt for gun" arc makes sense, like literally nothing adds up. first we've got the ENTIRE verse assembling like the avengers to take down gun, like we're talking extras that haven't appeared in years. Then these seemingly amazing strong characters that went through so much character development and training arcs get the floor wiped with them, absolutely erasing all the progress they've made so far and get taken down within literally three panels. Not to mention how they deal fatal blows and this man hits super saiyan poses and gets up like nothing happened? Then he proceeds to randomly and casually plunging off a cliff above the mountain forest and lands on the highway in 0.00001 sec mid fight without taking any fall damage whatsoever and gets right back to swinging.
Anyways fast forward to the ridiculous fight he had with johan, which i find to be absolutely ridiculous johan should have 100% won that and the fight should'nt have been prolonged that much, not only was johan in perfect health and his vision was restored, but gun was also getting more and more "tired" and his state was pitiful. But SOMEHOW he still won that. Okay. Cool.
And now fast forward to today's chapter: gun's DUMBASS turns down goo's offer and now they're fighting. So naturally you'd expect gun to lose because goo is relatively equal (as stated multiple times by the narrative) to gun, and gun is in a pitiful state broken arm basically became a flesh and bones smoothie, not to mention his organs must have turned into slime from the amount of hits he has taken. His left eye is popped and bloodshot, his neck is sliced, he even has CLAW marks down his lower torso and forearm, excessive blood loss and nasty bruising everywhere... so obviously goo who is 100% in good shape and is proven to be a very powerful and impactful character will win right? Haha.
*internally screaming throwing up sobbing rolling on the floor in rage and despair*
HOW THE FUCK DID HE END UP ON THE FLOOR SQUISHED LIKE A BUG WITH A SWORD PIERCING THROUGH HIM???? The whole fight made me ENRAGED, i lost it when he blocked the sword with his mouth AND bit it off like are we sure we're still in a slice of life manhwa and not a horror one? I lost it even more when his mouth that was torn ear to ear because of the sword magically healed in the next panel like nothing happened, like that sword didn't just cut through his flesh. Speaking of swords cutting through flesh, how did goos sword sharp enough to cut through metal and concrete walls get stuck on his ankle? Dies this man have titanium bones or something?? How did the sword get stuck on the FLESH not even the bone itself. And the fact that he just walked it off again like nothing happened.. somehow goo only landed like two clean hits and gun magically dodged all the other ones.
Then PTJ proceeds to pull up the double suicide to end the fight in which BOTH goo and gun were stabbed but goo somehow is the one who ends up being squished on the floor like a bug.
This is unacceptable, idk wth ptj was expecting us to get hype after gun some fucking how is capable of weaseling himself out of every corner he's backed up to this is starting patterns that are very similar to jjk.. which i don't like at all. I'd like to say for the one billionth time again that PTJ writing gets progressively worse from the years, which only consists of stalling and dragging the arcs instead of moving on to other plot points, extreme plot armor, adding in an unbelievable number of minor characters, background characters, and extras just to neglect them after a few chapters. Some characters who supposedly were from the "main cast" were gone for YEARS dude, and the lacking female character writing (some may argue with this because it is true there are female characters that are badass and are really good written, but most are created only for the purpose of helping a certain male character with character development. Which he literally directly says on his author note for viral hit in which he says all the female characters form the main cast even the nurse were created for romantic interest, which is an insane thing to say.)
Anyhow, if you've read this far thank you for coming to my ted talk 😓. I know some things i said might be controversial but i just needed to let out some steam, because this is getting ridiculous. Everyone can see the pattern now like there is no way that he's so overpowered that the entirety of the verse wasn't able to take him down.
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bra1n-c4ncer · 8 months ago
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Ok so here is a detailed ref sheet of my Sun and Moon designs for the au:
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They can now emote a little bit more with their faceplate: Eyes are fully articulated with eyelids, the swirl that acts as their eyebrow is fully mobile, outer mouth plates are switched for a silicone layer and underneath, for stability, is an aluminum alloy that allows for a little bit extra movement. They are still stuck smiling unfortunately, but they can control how wide or crooked it is most of the time.
Hardware:
Their back wiring is now covered by a small metalic box that's waterproof. They needed that long ago anyway. They have "retractable claws" that are there more for show than anything else. Yes, they are kind of sharp but they can't exactly rip flesh off of bones. They were installed more or less to make moon look intimidating in case he comes upon an intruder on his patrols or while nap time. (Like it matters anyway, they are literally animatronics. Made out of metal.)
They can make a few soundboard effects from their voicebox. Why? They are jesters and they are caretakers. Entertainment honey.
They are directly connected to the internet as long as a wifi router is nearby. Also they can connect to bluetooth devices. The backup memory and RAM memory in their AI was upgraded aswell because let's be honest, how could they save all those guest profiles, children's preferences, allergies, special needs, intruder profiles etc.? deleting old information because "they are just some old files that we don't need anymore!" Is not the best way to approach it.
Software:
Unique features:
Sun: His rays can tilt 90° on each axis, they can retract but they cannot spin unfortunately (honestly it would be kind of hard to make it possible considering the amount of wiring inside his flat faceplate). He has pupils, they are just not visible in a brightly lit room, wich is ironic in a way or another, but that can be used to his advantage oftentimes.
The small embroidery on his pants was a last second detail he wanted to be added just on his design, the technician didn't ask why and he still won't dare to ask.
Moon: His hat and pants are made from the same material. The cape acts as a back-up blanket: it preserves heat and also can be cooled down easily. It was originally intended for aesthetic purposes only but after a little session of fuck around and find out the technician figured that the cape can fit 2-3 toddlers underneath.
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The cape and hoodie parts have little magnets on the inside part of the textile, (they were supposed to be pins but because of another "accident" that idea was scratched) wich hold the two pieces together neatly and secure.
Now you may wonder: "Well then, how can Moon use his wire if that cape is in the way?" Good question! I literally have no idea, but he does it somehow.
That is all for this post, for now at least. If you have more questions feel free to leave me an ask! Also I will update this post once I make more references and sketches :)
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aylish91 · 1 year ago
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Could I ask for a Leviathantale Nightmare x Skeleton Cecaelia reader? Can you base it off this picture:
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Or even the one you reposted from me? You don't have to if you don't want to.
(by the way, the picture attached here is based off of cats cleaning each other with their tongues. Though it might be kinda cute as an idea.)
Hello, hello Fluffy! I loved your art! Thanks again for letting me know about and see them! I enjoyed the conversations too. I hope this meets your standards my friend!
~ ~ ~
Grooming Bonds
You picked at the exposed joints in your hands, doing your best to get the leftover fish slime and sand out of the exposed magic. There had been a particularly fruitful hunt earlier in the evening and everyone had slowly dispersed into their respective piles to preen now that the meal was over.
Having dragged Dust back into the main nest, Axe held him down while he meticulously picked at the vertebrae of the smaller mer’s back. It had taken a bit of finagling, but Axe had managed to get Dust’s staple hoodie and scarf carefully placed to the side for the rare show of bones. Dream and Cross weren’t far from the pair, helping groom each other while Killer teasingly flicked sand at them with his tail from his position on “the rock”. Understandably, while Dream reverted to stifled giggles, Cross swiped at said tail and threatened to attack if Killer didn’t stop.
In all, after such an eventful day, it was a typical relaxing evening.
However, you had yet to join any piles, not knowing where or who to insert yourself with. Axe would have made a good choice had he not been so focused on a squirming Dust. Dream probably wouldn’t have minded an extra companion, but Cross had asked him first. Killer and Dust… You weren’t sure if either of them would have taken you seriously.
So there you were. With the group but somehow still the odd one out. It was fine. You always had tomorrow to try again…
Or so you thought.
Watching from his perch on the ship, Nightmare suddenly swooped down to sneakily grab you from behind, placing himself close enough to the nest that his tentacles could idly circle the shiver while still giving them space. You were placed in the equivalent of a lap amongst his tentacles.
“It isn’t well that you still sit alone, little fish. These little moments are times of bonding. No one should be alone during such opportunities.”
There were a few chuckles from the others as you squeaked and tried to twist in his grasp, heat blossoming on your cheeks. “It’s okay! You don’t— I can do it myself. The others already had partners anyway.”
Nightmare didn’t take any head, humming knowingly before delicately looking over your vertebrae in a similar fashion Axe was. It was Dream that sympathetically called to you.
“You don’t have to be shy, even if there are already pairs. There is always room for one more. It is more important to have these kinds of bonding moments.”
Killer grinned, peppering Cross with an especially harsh sand cloud. “Lucky. I bet she just didn’t want to get near Criss Crossies stink ~ ”
“Hey!” It was hard not to laugh along with everyone when Cross finally did tackle Killer, their tails and limbs tumbling out of the nest to kick up stray seaweed and kelp. Nightmare only sighed and sunk lower into his mass.
“Pay them no mind. Although inconvenient, play can also be a form of bonding.”
You had to hide the blooming smile behind a bony hand, watching Dream move on to comb over Axe as he worked.
It was nice. In a way, their nonchalance about the whole thing helped ease your tense nerves. Even with the two wrestling mer, you found that you felt comfortable enough to continue cleaning your hands and arms. It did little to take your mind off the relaxing way Nightmares claws passed over you, but it gave you something to occupy you. It wasn’t until you were shifted against the leviathan’s large chest that you stopped what you were doing to look up.
You weren’t expecting the large glowing tongue that came next. For as long as you had been with the shiver, you had never seen Nightmare lick anyone when grooming. The boys did it all the time. Even Dream on occasion, but Nightmare had kept to himself or only helped with joints and recesses.
The sensation made you squeak and giggle, each new pass filling you with warmth as you closed your eyes. Then, to add to your surprise, a low purr began to vibrate against you and the water.
If you hadn’t been content before, you most certainly were now. Something about sharing this moment with the dark guardian made everything else seem trivial. You didn’t need to worry about your place if he was willing to be this close with you. You were allowed to be here. You were accepted and nothing else mattered.
He was kind, and you belonged.
“Better?”
Your tentacles curled and unfurled in embarrassment as you gave him a sly smile. You blamed your rising courage on the guardian.
“Yes. But, I should be returning the favor.”
Floating up, you licked his forehead before slipping down to cling and pick through the vertebrae closest to his shoulders and spine. It made a lovely glow brighten his face with that low purr flaring up again.
“O-of course. If you wish, little fish.”
The rest of the boys were awfully giggly the rest of the evening. But you could hardly complain.
Leviathan Master List Grand Master Post
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got-into-worm-by-mistake · 5 months ago
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Gestation 1.5 Live Reactions
(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)
Reaching inside the convex armor that covered my spine, I ran my fingers over the things I had buckled in there.  The EpiPens were meant to treat anaphylactic shock from allergic reactions to bee stings and the like, and likely wouldn’t do a thing to Lung, even if I could get close enough and find a point to inject.  Worst case scenario, the injections would supercharge his power by prompting a surge of whatever hormones or endorphins fueled his power.  Not useful, dangerous at best.  I had a pouch of chalk dust that was meant for climbers and gymnasts, I had seen it in the sports store when I was buying the lenses for my mask.  I had gloves and didn’t think I needed the dryness and extra traction, but I had gotten the idea that it could be useful to throw at an invisible enemy, and bought it on a whim.  In retrospect, it had been kind of a dumb purchase, since my power let me find foes like that with my bugs.  As a tool against Lung… I wasn’t sure if it would explode like regular dust could when exposed to flame, but fire didn’t hurt him anyways.  Scratch that option.
Of course, for all that Taylor is a planner, sometimes, she's just a person who makes mistakes, like with the chalk. Really no reason to buy it, but the thought occurs and it probably wasn't a huge issue.
Lung hauled himself over the edge of the roof.  I had him hurting… I just couldn’t do anything about it.  My bugs were officially useless, there was nothing left in my utility sheath, and I would hurt myself more than I hurt Lung if I attacked him.  Making a mental note to pick myself up a concealable knife or baton if I managed to live through this, I bolted for the fire escape.
Given how methodical Taylor's planning and prepwork was presented earlier, this chapter does a lot to show that... honestly, no, she really didn't actually plan things out as much as she thought. Which makes sense. It's early yet. Presumably she gets better.
“Muh… Motherfucker!”  Lung screamed. 
I mean, that is valid Lung, I'll give you that.
“Cock.  Sucker,” he growled in his heavily accented voice, his cussing interrupted by his panting for breath, “Move.  Give me something to aim for.”
Real "come out so I can kill you" energy here. Does that ever work?
With no warning, a massive shape landed atop Lung with an impact I could swear people heard at the other end of the street.  The size of a van, the ‘massive object’ was animal rather than vehicle, resembling a cross between a lizard and a tiger, with tangles of muscle and bone where it ought to have skin, scales or fur.  Lung was now on his knees, holding one of the beast’s sizable claws away from his face with his own clawed hand.
Enter Player 2: Bitch and her Dogs
I stood, aware I was shaking like a leaf.  I was so unsteady on my feet, from the mixed relief and fear, that I almost fell over again as two more impacts shook the roof. 
A nice touch, that not every author/story would include.
Two more creatures, similar to the first in texture, but slightly different in size and shape, had arrived on the rooftop.  These two each had a pair of riders.  I watched as the people slid off the backs of the animals.  There were two girls, a guy, and a fourth I identified as male only because of the height.  The tall one approached me, while the others hurried to the edge of the roof to watch Lung and the creature duke it out.
And thus come the Undersiders, changing history by deciding to help this random cape out.
“You really saved us a lot of trouble,” he told me.  His voice was deep, masculine, but muffled by the helmet he wore.  He was dressed entirely in black, a costume I realized was basically motorcycle leathers and a motorcycle helmet.  The only thing that made me think it was a costume was the visor of his helmet.  The full-face visor was sculpted to look like a stylized skull, and was as black as the rest of his costume, with only the faint highlights of reflected light on the surface to give a sense of what it was.  It was one of those costumes that people put together out of what they can scrounge up, and it wasn’t half bad if you didn’t look too close.  He reached out a hand towards me, and I leaned away, wary.
...how does one sculpt a visor?
Still, a complete, if a bit clinical, descriptor of Grue/Brian.
“Pepper spray, wasp and bee stings, fire ants and spider bites,” the second of the girls said, answering the question for me.  She was dressed in a skintight outfit that combined black with a pale shade of blue or purple – I couldn’t tell in the dark – and her dark blond hair was long and windblown.  The girl grinned as she added, “He’s not holding up too well.  Gonna feel a helluvalot worse tomorrow.”
Oh, Tattletale, obviously I only know you from discussion, excerpts and fanfic, but my urge to punch you remains, though there's nothing objectionable here.
Also, Tattletale's outfit does seem pretty stereotypical supervillain, tbh.
“Fuck you, Grue,” Regent retorted, with a chuckle and a tone of voice that made it clear he wasn’t really that offended.  He was wearing a white mask, not quite as decorative or made up as the ones I associated with the carnivals in Venice, but similar.  He’d placed a silver coronet around his short black curls, and wore a ruffled white shirt with skintight leggings tucked into knee-high boots.  The outfit was very renaissance faire.  He had a build that made me think more of a dancer than a bodybuilder.
Let's see if Alec is as much fun as he is in the fanfics :P But I do have to respect the theming for his outfit. Probably goes pretty hard to see it in person.
I stared at her.  My voice caught in my throat before I was able to get the words out, “I don’t… I haven’t picked one yet.”
Taylor, no! Don't let them label you with Skitter! NO! :P :rofl:
When I realized what had just happened, I could have cried.  It was easy enough to pin down Regent, Tattletale and Bitch as teenagers.  It wasn’t much of an intuitive leap to guess that Grue had been one too. The ‘children’ Lung had mentioned, the ones I had gone to so much effort to save tonight, were bad guys.  Not only that, but they had mistaken me for one, too.
I mean.... Ooof. She put her whole self, her entire hope, the only reason, or at least the main reason, she fought through the last few months, in becoming a hero. In saving lives, in beating villains... and here she is saving villains and getting mistaken as one. And then Armsmaster is about to make it worse.
I wonder if he'll read quite as much of a dick as the fandom seems to think he is.
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otdiaftg · 10 months ago
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"Here, I've got an extra towel," Matt says, and digs one out of his open locker. He hurries to the bathroom to soak it in the sink but jerks to a stop as he is turning back to them. His startled voice echoes off the bathroom walls. "What the hell?"
Neil knew better than to look, but he went anyway. Wymack and Andrew were right behind him. Neil followed Matt's gaze to the far wall and felt his stomach bottom out. Written in blood across the tile was a bold message: "Happy 19th Birthday, Jr.". Neil's head filled with static and screams. The strident mumble in the background was out of place and it took Neil an eternity to realize that sound was coming from his teammates. He understood their anxious tones, but he didn't understand a word they were saying. Fear trailed icy claws over his stomach and crawled up his throat. Neil closed his eyes for two seconds and breathed. He couldn't deal with this now. He couldn't; he wouldn't. He grabbed the fledgling sense of panic and buried it deep, the same way he'd smothered his broken heart long enough to burn his mother's body. He would have to react to this later, but if he did it now with all of the Foxes as his witnesses he was going to lose everything. The world came back into focus in jagged pieces, just in time for Neil to hear Wymack mutter something about calling the police. Neil grabbed his elbow before Wymack turned away and squeezed so hard he felt bones creak. "Coach," he said, as calmly as he could. "You're going to have to leave them out of this one. Okay? Let's just get through the game. I'll clean this up afterward. No one else has to know." "Give me one good reason not to cancel the game and pull security in here," Wymack said. "I can't give you that yet," Neil said, slanting a look at him. "I told you to wait until May." He willed Wymack to remember the promise he'd made on New Year's Eve when Wymack challenged his lies and scars. He hadn't told Wymack he was on the run, but he'd cut it close enough Wymack should have put the pieces together. Neil needed him to remember that now and figure out the obvious: Riko's men wouldn't have left evidence behind, but Neil had prints all over the place. Wymack said nothing but studied Neil with a disquieting intensity. Neil let go of Wymack and took the wet towel from an unresisting Matt. His lungs felt like they were pulling tight as he crossed the room to his birthday message. He breathed shallowly so as not to set off his gag reflex and scrubbed the letters off the wall. There were enough clean patches on the towel afterward for Neil to wipe his hands off. He came back to the others and dropped the towel in the sink to worry about later. "Neil," Matt said. Neil didn't want to hear it. "Change out, Matt."
Day: Friday, January 19th Time: 6:45 PM EST
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that-foul-legacy-lover · 2 years ago
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Hi, here i am again for another nightly thought ! For some reason my brain is stuck thinking that foul legacy very warm despite his armor, and since his eye and wing are glowing theyre probably the warmest part of his body. So if he feels you shiver at night, you're sick or have cramps he'll just use the wings as your personal heater and hug you tight (taking care of not hugging to tight to avoid hurting you, of course). But if hes too warm to sleep near you during hot night well-
You will fall asleep with you hand in his and somehow still wake up in his arms, he just cant sleep without you anymore and honestly how to be mad at him, mothman deserves all the affection of the world
sleepy Foul Legacy brainrot is the BEST YESSSS
the first winter after you initially take him in is, coincidentally, one of the coldest Liyue's ever had. since Childe was still recovering from a severe illness, you made sure to bundle him up each night before you go to sleep- yet somehow you would inevitably be awoken by an Abyssal monster tugging at your hand, whining at the chilly air, and you would open up your arms for him to climb into, settling beside you with a relieved purr. he was so warm, despite how frigid it was outside, and the warmth seeped into your bones- you hadn't even noticed how cold you were- lulling you into a deep sleep. from then on the room you had given him went nearly unused at night, since he much preferred to wake up holding you close, fitting in a few precious extra minutes before you would have to leave for work
when the temperature warms, though...
listen, you tried to help Foul Legacy get used to sleeping in his own room, but somehow he'll end up cuddling you before the night is over anyways! he has nightmares when he sleeps alone, ones that can only be soothed by your calming words and gentle pats. so even on warm nights, Foul Legacy is right beside you, purring away, his claws wrapped around your smaller hand. he doesn't hug you, since he doesn't want you to overheat, but somehow in the morning you'll be wrapped in his arms anyways!! he apologizes so much, bumping his head against your forehead and whimpering, but you simply laugh and stroke his soft ginger hair, fanning yourself slightly
after that, every night begins with Foul Legacy snuggled up on your bed, crooning and chirping for you to come join him in slumber
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sirendeepity · 1 year ago
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[ Nessian Week, day 5: Home ]
A/N: Another day, another "I don't really know if it fits the criteria, but here it is anyway". Pretty sure it was supposed to be a lot more heavier on the "emotional side" and very less literal, buuut it's been sitting in my drafts for ages, and I needed a valid enough excuse to publish it even tho I don't even have a second part ready (or any idea how it will end, because it could be a very easy, mostly Nessian thing, or it could drastically and dramatically change the course of everything and be as not Nessian centric as they come. So it's either peace of mind or complete annihilation. No in between. I personally love the drama, so there might be a big one coming for you.)
@nessianweek
W/C: 1.7k
T/W: the House is in danger, natural cataclysm, mention of possible injuries? (I don't know how to write trigger warnings without spoiling everything, just know that it's bad, or it's going to be)
“Please, spare my life, oh cruel, blood-thirsty warrior!”
Cassian huffed once more as Mor and Feyre’s mocking laughs followed him through the glass doors of the shop. A shop he’d just got out of with an extra-large sized teddy bear holding a “Hug Me!” sign between its chubby paws.
He tucked the furry thing under an arm as he kept the door open for the two ladies.
Ever the gentleman, Cassian, he thought to himself, wondering what would be Nesta’s reaction to the gift.
She’d laugh too.
Which was a very possible, almost certain scenario.
“Never, in a million years, I would have pegged my sister to be the helpless romantic,” Feyre said, catching up to him. Mor was still giggling a few steps behind.
“She’s not,” was Cassian’s reply. “Not in the way you think, anyway.”
That 4’9 feet tall plushie was not exactly a cheesy gift. It was a necessity. Well, it was a healthy mix of both.
Things were not great in Illyria, so Cassian often needed to fly there early in the morning only to come back home Gods knew when - if he managed to come back at all.
A few times now Cassian had come home from the camps in the middle of the night, tired to his very bones; all he wanted was to take a bath and snuggle in his bed, hug his wife close to his chest, and never, ever let her go again. That had been the plan, at least, until he’d opened the bedroom door and found his beautiful mate curled around a pillow. His pillow.
Cassian knew better than to ask Nesta straight-forward and expect her to answer with her heart bleeding and bare for him: she’d made huge steps, but it was a hard wall to knock down at once. Nesta Archeron was not built for vulnerability. But she was trying - doing her best, really - and that was all he cared about. All that mattered, really.
So he had waited for Nesta to open up about what was really going on - about her missing him, about her being so used to having him by her side every night that she’d felt the need to fill the empty space on the bed in a different way.
The first time he’d been welcomed by that view, Cassian was almost sure his heart had shrunk a size and slipped through his ribs, ending up somewhere around his ankles. He had felt the urge to wrap his arms and wings and every molecule of his being around Nesta and tell her not to worry anymore because he was finally home, home, home.
Yet, he had found himself unable to move, not trusting his knees to keep him standing if he even dared to take a step in her direction. So he’d stood by the door and took her in. How Nesta’s nose was buried so deep into the cushion he had wondered how the fuck does she breathe?; how her long hair, free of any braid and band, waved down in every possible direction, covering the silk bed sheets like a second blanket; how her hands were clawing the pillowcase in a white-knuckled grip, as if she was afraid it would go away, too.
As soon as blood came rushing back through his body and Cassian remembered how to function—basic coordination and all of that—, he’d walked toward their bed and woke her up. Nesta had opened her eyes, brows already furrowed as her sleepy gaze cleared and her focus snapped into place. As she realized it was not her mind playing with the darkness.
Cassian had kissed his mate ever so gently. He’d kissed her again and then kissed her once more, as he’d gotten rid of the dirty clothes he was wearing. What had come after was not as gentle—it had started as such, only to turn quickly into something else, something a little more—and neither of them had found sleep until sunrise.
That was the real reason behind the disgustingly big teddy bear.
Pity his High Lady and her Third were currently acting way too childish to learn the truth about it.
“Can we go back and buy another one for Amren? I bet it’s taller than her.”
Cassian turned to Mor, opening his mouth to suggest her next Solstice gift for their pocket-sized demon of a friend, but before a single word left his mouth, the ground underneath their feet shook violently. The plush bear was the first thing to fall as Cassian reached for the two females and shielded them both, his wings spread wide open above their heads. It was not long before silence fell again, the only noise being Feyre’s order to “tuck in that bat wings of yours”.
“It had been decades since we’d had an earthquake in Velaris. Are you all okay?” Mor’s voice was full of worry as she eyed her companions, checking for any kind of injury, hands ready to heal. Cassian knew she would find none on him: all his wounds were inside.
It had happened just a heartbeat later, stealing the air from his lungs and knocking him to the ground, every muscle tensed and ready for an enemy that wasn’t there. The panic and the fear build up to undiluted terror—to pain. And then nothing else.
Feyre was shaking him—or maybe it was Mor. Hard to tell, given that all he heard were distant murmurs, remnants of what should have been words. He couldn’t bring himself to get back on his feet, to take a deep, full breath, to remember where the fuck he was and what had just happened.
“Cassian, Gods damn it, look at me. Tell me what’s wr-”
It’s not me, he said. Not me, not me, not me.
No, he just thought it. Because the females in front of him were looking somewhere else.
The bubble popped as Cassian came to his senses—awareness rushing back along with a cacophony of sounds from all over Velaris.
Cassian gulped air down his lungs and jumped to his feet, turning his head in the same direction as everyone else’s standing in the streets.
It had not been an earthquake.
It had been the House. His House. Collapsed onto itself - dragging the Library, the whole fucking mountain, with it.
“Mother help us.”
[ * * * ]
For a long moment, everything was quiet. Until it wasn’t anymore.
Her ears were ringing. A whistle, constantly playing the same plain note, high-pitched enough to cut through her brain. She couldn’t even think above the sharp, throbbing pain, like a hammer against her skull.
She opened her eyes—or tried to: everything was still dark, so dark Nesta wasn’t sure she did it in the first place.
The Library. I’m in the Library.
Right. Azriel had brought Emerie over and they had both joined Gwyn and the priestesses.
Emerie. Gwyn. The priestesses.
Nesta could have called out their name, could have just whispered them, could have said nothing at all.
She tried to move her arms, found them free of any injury or impediment, and proceeded on with the rest of her body. Just as Gwyn had once told her. Frankly, she’d just half-listened to her friend’s babbling, catching words here and there and nodding along in encouragement. There was a different sort of spark in her big teal eyes whenever that side of Gwyn took control, as if the spirit of a long-deceased scholar had just possessed her body and that was the only relief the poor soul could find after centuries of torments. That was a fun way to put it, anyway.
Neck, nothing.
Ribs, nothing.
Spine…
She wiggled her toes, only to realize she could not. A bookshelf had fallen on her.
Not a bookshelf, Nesta thought, just its books.
Something must have blocked it before it hit the ground.To prove her point, dozens of tomes of every size and texture were on her. Burying her alive. Life had a wicked sense of humor. Nesta moved them away ever so slowly, lest something was not quite right yet.
Once the way was clear, she tried again, just higher: bending her knees, she hold on to what felt like a crumbled piece of wall and pushed herself free from under the now empty bookshelf. The idea of running out of luck and being crushed underneath it did funny things to her stomach. To her self-control in general, given that she was already running low on it.
Spine, legs, feet: nothing.
Sitting up, Nesta started to cough at the cloud of dirt and dust and debris floating through the air. It was hard to breathe and there were one too many reasons why.
Nausea and dizziness hit her all at once, in a rush so strong she barely managed to turn her head to the side before throwing up, emptying her guts.
Nesta could almost hear Gwyn say in that tone as condescending as ever, “That’s called having a concussion.”
“Here I was, believing your skull was the hardest thing to crack open.” That would’ve been Emerie, of course. Never missing a beat.
She needed to find them, but first, she needed to make sure she wasn’t going to die in the process. A moment later, her hands were on her head, in her hair, feeling her scalp and looking for open wounds. She didn’t find any, and yet her fingers were warm, wet.
Mh, strange.
She retreated her hand, squinting as she tried to make out the slickness coating her fingers, to no avail. It was too dark.
Something brushed her thigh, making her startle. It was cold, the whisper of a touch.
And it was warning her. Nesta felt it before it happened, before another rumble shook the ground. It was an aftershock—the first of many.
Her head started floating above her shoulder and her limbs felt so inexplicably light. But Nesta’s existence as a feather was short-lived: she’d flown too high, she’d touched the sun. She was free-falling.
Her knees hit the ground first, the rest of her body soon followed, her marble bones too heavy for her to move, to breathe. Cold sweat pin pricked her skin, and Nesta prayed for luck to kiss her once more. She wasn’t known for her faith, though.
And then the ringing began.
I’m sorry, the phantom wind whispered against the shell of her ear. She could hear it clearly over the screaming and the shouting of that noise inside her head. It was a faint embrace, but Nesta reveled in its familiarity for as long as she could.
I tried.
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dees-writing-corner · 2 years ago
Text
forever and more - chapter 3
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word count: 2367
pairing: ateez x fem!reader
warning: may be ever so slightly gory? I'm not sure
if anyone wants to join the taglist just message <3
a/n feedback is always welcome here, and please do send in whatever theories you have, I'd love to hear them!! especially because we've got a lot of hints this chapter👀👀
also, very grateful for my lovely beta reader @layzfeelit <3
masterlist
previous
Having had little to no progress going through the journals and letters alone over the past week, the boys and I thought that it would be best to bring the boxes into my room and go through them together. 
Aimlessly going through the stack of papers, I sat up on my bed, reaching my arms up to stretch for a bit. 
Glancing over at Mingi and San who were lying beside me, "You guys find anything?" 
Seeing them both shake their heads no; I stood up with a small groan, "I'm gonna head down and make myself a cup of coffee, you two want anything?" 
San looked up from the letter he was reading, "Umm, a bottle of coke?" 
Nodding, I looked over to Mingi. 
"Coke as well, thank you~" 
Mingi blew me a kiss as I walked out, throwing my head back as I laughed at his antics. 
San and Mingi listened as my footsteps gradually got lighter until they could no longer hear them. 
"Okay, I lied, I found something." Mingi swiftly turned the journal to the page he was reading. "Here, look." 
San leaned in closer as he read between the pages. 
We went into the cave by the lake today because a great number of disappearances have occurred there. Father thought that it would be best to send me and the hunter's son, Aaron, to investigate. He said that it was time to test our abilities. 
When we entered the cave, a horrible stench hit us. The further we walked, the stronger the smell was and once we reached the back of the cave, we found the reason. Human remains were flung around, some of them were limbs torn off the body, others were just clean bone. 
As we made our way closer, we felt a sudden chill. The creature was close. 
Aaron swung the flaming torch in the air, trying to spot the creature. There it was at the back, in the corner. It stood tall, arms out in front, its claws catching the light of the flame. 
Slowly, I reached a hand to my waist, searching for my dagger. I knew this creature; father always told me stories of it. 
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A wendigo is what they called it. They were once humans who were possessed by a malevolent spirit, turning them into flesh eating creatures. There was no return for those possessed. 
To kill them, one needed a silver weapon and for extra measure, the body needed to be burnt. 
And that's exactly what we did. 
"This is the Hunters Journal. Well, one of them, anyway." San turned to Mingi, a question forming in his head. "Should we show her this?" 
Mingi quickly shook his head, "No. Not until we find the letter Jenna left for her. Showing her this will only confuse her even more." 
San nodded before showing Mingi the letter he was reading. 
Mingi quickly scanned the paper, eyes widening slightly as he got towards the end. 
"Oh." 
"Yeah, oh. We’ll show her this along with the journal after she finds the letter and wraps her brain around everything." 
Mingi nodded along, "Yeah, okay, keep them in your room, yeah? Y/N is less likely to go into your room because of how messy it is, so -" 
"What's that supposed to mean, my room is perfectly tidy!" 
Mingi raised a brow, "Oh, yeah? Sure, it is..." 
San pushed the letters and journals scattered across the bed to the side and sat up, tackling Mingi onto his back. 
"Come here, you little brat." 
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Humming, I rummaged through one of the bottom cupboards for one of my mugs. Wooyoung was 'cleaning up' the kitchen cupboards the other day and since then, I have not been able to find anything. 
"Umm, what are you doing?" 
Startled, I groaned as I hit my head on a shelf. 
Sitting on the floor, I cradled the back of my head as I glared up at the intruder. 
"Do you find pleasure in seeing me in pain or something? Last time I tripped over the carpet." 
"Sorry, I – ha –" 
Rolling my eyes, I watched as Yunho and Wooyoung laughed at my misery. 
Seeing me get up from the floor, Wooyoung wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye, "God, you haven't changed at all." 
Not hearing what Wooyoung had said, I went through another cupboard, "Where have you put my mugs? I can't find any of them." 
"In the cupboard to your left, princess, they're all in there." 
Pausing, I slowly turned around. Wooyoung looked from me to Yunho, who had also opted to stare at him, and raised a brow. 
"What?" 
Taking out one of the mugs, "Princess? Really?" 
"What? You're literally one. There's nothing that can make me change my mind on that." 
Yunho elbowed Wooyoung before turning to me, ignoring Wooyoung's dramatic self as he crumpled to the floor, howling in pain. 
"Ignore him, we were wrestling around earlier. He may have hit his head a bit too hard." 
Laughing at them, I turned back around to start the espresso machine as the two started to bicker. 
Over the last week, I've started to get to know the boys and I must say, they are indeed boys. Sometimes, it's like living with toddlers with how much they bickered and fought, and while they were still a bit odd, they were much more relaxed around us. Apart from Jongho. He was still as distant as possible without seeming rude. 
Pouring the milk over the espresso, I turned back to the boys. 
"Do you two know where Yeosang is? I haven't seen him in a couple of days." 
The question seemed to have caught them off guard because they stilled for a second before stuttering out answers. 
"What's going on with you two?" 
Seonghwa entered the kitchen from the garden, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped beside me. 
"I was just wondering where Yeosang is." 
Seonghwa raised a brow at the question, "He's delivering something to one of your aunt's friends. Should be back before dinner." 
"Okay?" 
I was confused to no end right now but decided not to question anything. 
Grabbing two bottles of coke from the fridge, "I'm heading back up, we've still got some things to do." 
As I made my way back to the bedroom, I couldn't help but feel like someone was watching me, yet every time I glanced around, there was no one there. 
"I've got the drinks -" 
Pausing mid-sentence, I watched as San and Mingi lay out of breath on the floor. 
"And what have you two been up to?" 
Kicking the door shut, I put the drinks down on the bedside table before looking down at the two. 
"Nothing. Mingi said my room was messy." 
Mingi propped himself up and looked at San, "What? Is it not messy? I'm pretty sure half of your wardrobe was on the floor this morning." 
Laughing at their antics, I sat down at the edge of the bed, “And what? That turned into a wrestling match on my bedroom floor?” 
San and Mingi got up from their positions and joined me on the bed, taking their cokes from the bedside table. 
“So,” San laid down on his back. “What took you so long to come back up?” 
Taking the sip from my coffee, “I was just asking where Yeosang was. I haven't seen him in the last few days, and apparently, he's bringing something to one of Aunt Jenna's friends.” 
San raised his brow as he tilted his head to the side, “Your aunts' friend? I would have thought they stopped delivering things if you're aunt passed away.” 
Shrugging, I shook my head, “I don't know, they must have arranged something before she passed. Anyways, have you found anything yet?” 
Both San and Mingi shook their heads. 
Groaning, I closed my eyes, “Ugh, why don't we take a break for now? We've been looking through these boxes all day." 
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Looking around, I was confused as to where I was. Everything was white and looked like there was no end to anything. 
Squinting my eyes, I saw a small figure in the distance, and as I got closer to it, I recognised who it was. 
"Aunt Jenna?" 
Stopping near her, I couldn't help but notice how majestic she looked. She wore a long, flowy white dress that stopped just above her ankles and her brown hair fell down in waves framing her face perfectly. 
"Hello." Aunt Jenna smiled as she took a few steps closer, "It's great to see you again, darling." 
Blinking, I looked around, confused at the whole situation, "I – what – but you're -" 
"Dead. Yes." She guided me forward, where a bench seemed to have magically appeared, and sat me down. "I wanted to talk to you about a few things, and while you may not remember much if any when you wake up, some things will be able to trigger the memory." 
Nodding silently, I waited for her to carry on. 
"First, would be the boys around the house. I know they may seem a bit weird to you right now, but I promise that they mean well and that they will be very useful in the future. Especially Jongho, he's just a giant teddy bear once you get to know him." 
Raising an eyebrow, I had a bit of a hard time believing that and Aunt Jenna just laugh at the disbelief I was showing. 
"Trust me. He really is. Now, I know that you're curious about that wooden box on the living room mantle, and I want you to be. So even though you won't remember any of this, you'll still open it. I'm not going to tell you now, what's inside, but just know that it's very important." 
"Okay." 
Aunt Jenna looked up before smiling at me, "Our time is running out. The last thing that I want to say is that not everyone beside you is who they say they are. They won't hurt you, but they also aren't telling you everything and when you do find out, don't be too angry at them, okay? They mean well." 
"Aunt Jenna?" I looked around at the white space surrounding us, "What place is this?" 
"This is your core, my dear." 
Scrunching up my face in confusion, "My core? What does that mean?" 
Aunt Jenna stood up from her spot on the bench, "I'm afraid you're waking up. I promise to tell you as much as I can when I see you again." 
Everything around me started to fade into darkness. And the last thing I heard was Aunt Jenna talking to someone. A male. 
"Are you sure she can help us, Jenna?" 
"Of course she can, after all, it's written in stone, no?" 
Groaning, I turned to the side to look at the clock. 19:16. It was already after dinner. 
Getting out of bed, I slowly made my way to the kitchen. 
"Ah, sleeping beauty is awake. How was that nap of yours?" 
Waving Wooyoung away, I made a beeline for the bowl of fruit he had placed on the table for me. 
Happily munching away, I looked up when someone took a seat beside me. 
"I see that you're up." 
Waving slightly at Yeosang, I swallowed the fruit, "Hmm, nice seeing you back. How was your little trip?" 
Yeosang shrugged as he rolled his sleeves up, "Boring. How was your nap?" 
Frowning, I couldn't help but think I was missing something, "Good? I think? I had a dream, but I can't remember what it was about and it's annoying me so much right now." 
Finishing off the last bit of fruit, I got up to place it in the sink for Wooyoung. I've now given up on trying to wash anything because every time I do, Wooyoung just pushes me to the side and takes over stating 'this is my kitchen'. 
Walking to the living room where I knew everyone was gathered, I was surprised to see the guys in some sort of heated discussion. 
"Umm, am I interrupting something?" 
"Y/N!" Mingi waved his arm about, "Come here! We've got a serious question for you." 
Confused, I took a seat between Seonghwa and Jongho. The second I sat down, Yunho leaned forward from where he was on the armchair. 
"So, we were just discussing something, and we want your opinion on it. Which ones are better? Vampires, witches or hunters?" 
Blinking owlishly, "I'm sorry, what?" 
I looked to Seonghwa who simply nodded, "Supernatural was on earlier and we started discussing. Wooyoung and I think witches are better, Yeosang, Yunho and Jongho think vampires are better and San and Mingi think hunters are better. And now we're just wondering what you think." 
Looking at them, I could tell they were actually being serious right now, and I couldn't but chuckle. 
"You guys are so weird." Clearing my throat, I contained the laughter that was threatening to bubble up my throat. "Umm, if I had to choose, then.... witches, I guess?" 
Laughing, I watched as everyone groaned while Seonghwa and Wooyoung did a small victory dance in their seats. 
From the corner of my eye, I could swear that Jongho was pouting slightly as he crossed his arms, so arching a brow, I turned to him. 
He noticed me looking at him and leaned in closer to me whispering, "Vampires are definitely cooler." 
Slightly stunned, I laughed a bit as I leaned closer to him, "They are cool, aren't they? But I must say, witches are far more intriguing to me." 
We spent a majority of the night laughing as Jongho and I carried on our debate on vampires and witches. In the background, we could hear San and Wooyoung bickering, occasionally pulling Yeosang in. Mingi sat on the floor next to Yunho and at some point, Seonghwa joined them as well as they talked about whatever show it was that was on TV. 
As the night grew later, we all gradually made our way upstairs, and as I walked back, my eyes caught the wooden box, making a mental note to have a look at it soon. 
next
taglist: @marievllr-abg @jackinmyarea @lexiigom @nichobins @babyhailey819 @darkdayelixer
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creativia10 · 1 year ago
Note
Request crack fic! Willow goes to see Hunter over the latest carvings but finds a humanoid blonde wolf-cardinal hybrid instead. She puts two and two together.
What Howls Can Also Caw
Pairing: Hunter/Willow
Wordcount: 2060
Notes: I have never written crack before. How well this turns out will determine if I ever attempt it again.
Willow was going to visit Hunter where he was carving palisman. Because that’s what she did now. She supposed it was expected for her to do, seeing her not-official-boyfriend-since-it-was-never-confirmed-but-might-as-well-be.
She hummed as she got off her palisman to walk over to where Hunter was usually crafting.
“Hey-“ But she paused at seeing something unexpected in Hunter’s usual place.
A blonde humanoid mishmash of two different creatures? Wait, she could figure this out. She narrowed her eyes to take in the details. It was certainly not what she would consider to be a natural combination, honestly.
There was a smattering of blonde fur and feathers from the top of his neck, going down his arms to the wrists. Some peaked out under the cuffs of his pants as well. The feathers at the front of his neck were black, but most of the others were red. His nose protruded some, with the end being rounded and black. In a canine-like way.
The ends of his fingers were black claws that were curled in some. Willow also noticed he had red wings of a familiar pattern, the ends a darker red, folded up against his back. Which made the also blonde furry tail coming from his tail bone look out of place. The tail went down to just below his knee caps.
Was this a wolf-cardinal hybrid?
The hybrid turned to face Willow, revealing of course that he was Hunter, now that she could fully see his face. Because who else could it be? Hunter was currently Dell’s only apprentice. No not the old computer type. Although, Willow shouldn’t really know what that is anyways.
Hunter smiled a bit sheepishly.
“Oh, hey Willow…” He said.
She looked down to see the ends of dark brown talons poking through the front of his shoes.
Willow looked back up to face the other.
“Hunter?” She asked, because she still felt the need to ask. Weird stuff happened on the Boiling Aisles after all.
“Yeah?” He said.
Willow gestured at all of him.
“What is this?”
Hunter sighed.
“It appears I am now part wolf and cardinal along with being a grimwalker.”
Willow gave him a look.
“I can see that, Hunter. How did this happen?”
“Ah, well…” Hunter started, “I don’t know.”
Willow paused.
“…you don’t know?” She asked in exasperation.
“Yeah,” He said.
“Were you doing anything out of the ordinary?” Willow asked.
Hunter furrowed his brows.
“I mean, I don’t think so? I came here to carve like I usually do when I usually do.”
“Okay, but when did this happen then?” Willow asked.
“Uh, I’m not sure,” Hunter said glancing away. He set down what he had been carving and folded his hands in his lap, carefully to avoid the claws. He tended to take a break when Willow visited anyways.
“How are you not sure?” Willow asked.
“Well,” Hunter began, “I was really focused on what I was doing. Sort of in the zone.”
Hunter wasn’t sure whether Willow would understand the creator’s mindset artists can get into or not.
Willow still seemed exasperated, so it was unclear whether she did.
“And you didn’t feel that anything was different?” Willow asked incredulously.
Hunter shrugged.
Willow sighed.
“Well, how do you feel right now?” She asked.
Hunter shrugged again. “Fine?”
“Nothing else seems off?” Willow asked.
“I mean,” Hunter gestured to some of his new physical features. “I can tell I have extra appendages, but nothing seems to be hurting me if that’s what you mean.”
Willow nodded.
“Well…hopefully that’s good then. You know, I figured you’d be a bit more freaked about such a drastic change than you seem to be. Especially if you don’t know the cause of it.”
Hunter thought for a moment and then shrugged.
“Palisman-carving helps me stay calm,” Hunter said. Willow’s face went a bit soft at that. Which made Hunter face away to hide his blush.
Hunter cleared his throat.
“Uh, besides. I’m kind of used to crazy stuff happening by now. We live on the Boiling Aisles after all,” He said.
Willow let out a huff of a laugh at that. “I suppose that’s fair,” She said, “So, what do we wanna do with this?”
Hunter hmmed.
“I don’t know.”
“How about we try to learn more about it then?” Willow asked.
Hunter smiled a bit.
“Yeah, that seems like a good idea.”
He turned over to his mentor.
“Hey Dell, am I good to go for now? I want to figure out what’s going on.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” Dell looked up from the palistrom tree he had been tending to. His eyes widened when he saw Hunter.
“Goodness!”
“I don’t suppose you would have any idea what would have caused this?” Hunter asked.
Dell hmmed and tapped a finger to his chin.
“Not sure.”
He turned to Hunter.
“What were you in the middle of carving?” He asked the other.
“Uh,” Hunter looked over at the unfinished wood carving he had set off to the side. He squinted at it.
“It looks like it could be something close to a frog?” Hunter said unsurely.
“You don’t know?” Willow asked, confused.
“Ah,” Dell nodded then faced Willow.
“ Hunter has always been more of a feeling palisman carver. He relies more on almost magic instincts than I normally see though. So he may only know what he is carving while he is carving it,” Dell said, “So let’s change the line of questioning then. What were you thinking about?” Dell asked. Hunter scrunched his face in thought. Admittedly, the wolf nose made it look cuter than normal, in Willow’s opinion.
“I…don’t know?” Hunter said.
Willow blinked.
Dell hmmed.
“That is really getting into the zone then if you don’t remember what you were thinking about. Makes it a bit harder to figure out what was the cause then.”
It was a bit hard for Willow to tell how Hunter felt about that.
“Well, thank you anyways, Mr. Clawthorne.” Willow grabbed Hunter’s hand, mindful of the new claws.
“We’ll continue to try figuring it out from here.”
Dell waved them off as the pair set off. Hunter rode with Willow on her palisman staff this time.
“How are you feeling about all of this?” Willow asked.
Hunter hummed noncommittally.
“I’m still not sure.”
After a moment he let out a little laugh.
“The only thing I really care about is if it will affect my palisman carving.”
Willow rolled her eyes at that but smiled.
“You really do have a one-track mind sometimes,” She said. He didn’t bother arguing.
Willow took them to the empty flyer derby practice field knowing it would be available. The season was over after all. She supposed they could have done magic research related to animal transformation. But she didn’t feel like reading. Besides, some activity could be good for them.
Hunter got off the staff and looked around in confusion.
“Why are we here?” He asked.
“We’re going to test out what you can do as a hybrid,” She said. “Like abilities that would go with the animal traits you now have.”
“Oh, ok,” Hunter said. “What should I start with?”
Willow hmmed.
“Well, does anything feel natural to you?” She asked.
Hunter thought, closing his eyes as he did so.
“Honestly, several things. But they feel more instinctive.”
Willow nods. “Well, just do something I guess?” She said.
Hunter’s nose twitched. Then he crouched down on all fours. His face twisted up before he started lifting his legs and shaking his feet.
Willow watched in confusion for a moment before remembering what he was wearing.
“Did you want help getting your shoes off?” Willow asked.
Hunter nodded with a gruff. Willow went over to pry his shoes off, a bit harder with the talons poking through. After doing that, she took a few steps back, unsure what he was going to do next.
He crouched the way he had started to do. Then he arched his back and let out an,
“AWOOOOOOOOOOO Tweet!”
Hunter stopped and then blinked at what had come out. He and Willow started to giggle at the funny combination of sounds he felt like making.
He flattened his back again and let out another gruff sound before he started running on all fours. Having bird feet and clawed hands made the four-legged run a bit out of sync though. It sort of looked like he was bobbing up and down. After a few minutes of the disjointed running Hunter stopped with a growl. Then he curled up on his stomach and whined.
Willow frowned and caught up to him.
“Hey, it’s okay,” She said. Willow sat down by him and held her hand out to see if he was okay with pets. Hunter nodded and batted her hand with his head in emphasis. She giggled again and started petting him. She pet his hair first, even though that part had remained unchanged. But he had always liked getting his hair pet anyways even before transforming.
Hunter began to pant and wagged his tail.
“…you can still talk, right?” She asked.
Hunter nodded and woofed. Perhaps she should have clarified that she meant a human language like English.
“Okay.”
She scratched behind his ears and he leaned into it with his eyes close and tongue lolling out. It was absurdly adorable.
“Hey,” She said, “Do you want to try flying now?”
She moved her hand to make sure he was listening. He whined for a second and then tilted his head in thought. Then he nodded.
Willow stepped back as Hunter stood up on his two legs again.
“Did you want help with anything before starting?” Willow asked.
Hunter shook his head. Then he spread out his wings. The wingspan reminded Willow more of a larger bird. Then again, Hunter was bigger than cardinals normally were.
He crouched again, this time just with his legs though. Then he started running, almost on the tips of his talons, his wings flapping as he did so. After a bit he hopped into the air, wings flapping harder. He managed to fly in the air for a moment before rolling head forward and falling to the ground.
Willow gasped and quickly went over to him.
“Are you alright?”
Hunter groaned and sat up.
“Not sure,” He said.
“Not being sure of things seems to be your catch phrase for the day,” A new voice added in. Hunter and Willow both turned to see Eda there.
“Where did you come from?” Willow asked.
Eda just pointed behind her instead of giving a better answer. She then walked over to the pair.
“I reckon it’s hard to do things like fly with your combination of animals,” Eda said. Hunter pouted at that.
“How did you even know to come here? Also, why are you here?” Hunter asked.
Eda rolled her eyes. “I stopped by to see Dell when he didn’t join us for dinner. He mentioned what happened with you. When you didn’t show up at the Owl House, I figured you’d be somewhere else I know you both like. And I might have an idea to help.”
The pair both perked up at that.
“Oh? In what way?” Willow asked.
Eda gestured to Hunter on the ground.
“I might know a way to summon a ghost who may have tips on how to use the features of your type of hybrid. Someone who also had an interest in wolves and cardinals.”
Hunter gasped at that.
“Was he one too?” Hunter asked.
“I’m not sure,” Eda said, “We’d have to ask him. Pretty sure he was obsessed with the creatures though.”
“How do you know?” Willow asked.
“Because I look into a lot of weird stuff. I’m wacky like that,” Eda said.
Well, that certainly wasn’t unbelievable.
Eda continued, to Hunter, “You may want to decide what you want to do with this, though. We would probably need to start working on a solution if you wanted to be all human-like again though.”
Willow looked to Hunter.
“What is it you want to do?”
Hunter shrugged. “I like cardinals and wolves. I just may have to trim my claws for carving though,” He said.
Willow let out a laugh at that.
“Alright then.”
It was certainly different,  but Hunter was just as endearing in this other form.
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scarletcitrus · 2 years ago
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here’s mohan as a dragon to go with my pagan (expect more far cry 4 dragons, they are immensely fun to design) (immediate contradiction: i am working on ishwari and Struggling with her design though send help)
further explanation on his design below! :)
unfortunately, no other drawings, sorry :( however, i did fuck around and find out with some color filters, so those will be attached at the end if you’re interested
my main idea with mohan was to go for something that looked regal, like it belonged in a palace, but also something that looked like it belonged in the middle of a battlefield brutalizing its enemies. being the leader of the golden path as well as an absolute Machine for violence and aggression, i figured that suited him well, and i personally feel like i accomplished my goal . yay for me!
this part feels way too cheesy but i’m going to include it anyway because it involved the design, so. i wanted him to also kind of feel like a myth or a legend or something in the sense that kyrati told stories of him when he was still alive (maybe even after he died, who knows) about a dragon perched on the mountains that reflected the golden light of the very sun, shining a path for everyone to follow, etc. etc. you get the point right LOL
^ he’s very special, very large, very strong. also, the leader, so everyone respects him anyway and telling stories of his power as tactics to either inspire the golden path or scare the royal army would probably start happening somewhere after the time of pagan’s betrayal
about him being perched on the mountaintops, i had an idea. and i followed through with it, because i liked it; it’s that he could climb extraordinarily well and much preferred to be high up rather than down low to gain better vantage points and to feel like he was properly overseeing his people. or, his dragons? not his people. 
^ anyway, i made his upper body massive to allow for some extra climbing muscle there, four front legs for even more stability if he were to slip and lose a foothold, retractable claws like a cat to hook onto things, generally huge paws. he also has paw pads, which are the same color as the beads/spots (that are attached to his body, they aren’t for decoration) that help for climbing, because they are rough like the pads of a dog or a cat or something lol
he has very strong bones (my boy drinking a lot of milk) (nah just kidding. it’s because he’s like any of the many animals that butt heads to establish dominance he has to slam his face into other people’s faces as an intimidation tactic; the amount of horns and spines he has serves well for this purpose, especially if smashing his face into another dragon’s escalates into a full-blown fight) and thick skin, as well as a double-layered coat for insulation in the colder places of kyrat... and whatever else a double coat does. OKAY I know that double coated dogs stay warm in winter and cool in summer i just don’t know how LMAO
it’s probably obvious to tell (or god at least i hope it is) that i really based his design off the golden path’s flag, with the duller darker blue and the bright golden yellows. his horns and spines i also based off the design but ESPECIALLY the sun-like thingies on the base of his tail, and on his stomach/chest. when he climbs up cliffs or scales mountains to look down on kyrat, it’s not just for that reason; the golden glittery parts of him absorb heat that he can store for when he’s needed up in the more freezing areas, and when they’re storing heat, are incredibly hot to the touch. not enough to burn on immediate contact, but if you rest your hand there, you’re getting some scars
mmmm i also tried to take at least a little inspiration from the way banashur looks in statues all over kyrat and stuff (i.e. the golden speckles, the beads, the way the patterns on his legs look; those were all things i managed to stem from banashur) because mohan is incredibly religious and whatnot, so. can’t leave that part of him out! the reason i took elements of banashur though was because... um. okay stick with me here i’ve been correlating (in the goat’s notes near the masks of yalung) pagan with yalung and mohan with banashur, but SOLELY in the sense that the way the goat describes banashur being jealous of yalung and creeping in the dark as a cheap way to break him is very Them. lmk if you agree because it’s all i’ve been able to think about since i beat far cry 4 and got all the masks it’s so in my brain 
umm let’s see what else. right i tried to manage with mohan’s hair/facial hair as best as i could and i think i did a pretty good job :) gave him a bit of a mane down his back and a bushy tail just so the fluffy hair and dragon beard didn’t look out of place or anything
anddd i did forget to include this on pagan’s-dragon-design-post-explanation-whatever but also it was partially because i legit couldn’t think of anything. The breath conundrum. does he breathe fire
mohan? kind of. his breath is relative to where he stores his heat and when he uses it it’s like opening an oxygen tank in the sense that, well, he’s releasing a LOT of it and will have to go back for more. but it’s not like it doesn’t hurt; it’s a very glittery golden like his patterns and looks almost like a concentrated beam of gas, and it burns like hell. also tingles like it’s acid or something after it settles on your skin, but it doesn’t actually eat through you, it just really hurts
okay uhh i think that’s it if i add anything i? might reblog? we’ll find out it’ll be a little surprise
last thing, here are the other color versions ! i like them both a lot but his original colors suit him infinitely better i think. also tumblr is being difficult and won’t let me put them side by side so we’re all gonna hold hands again and pretend it’s fine and that the quality isn’t total shit in the preview
Tumblr media Tumblr media
but thank you for reading!!!! or even just looking honestly. i appreciate it lol
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auto-correct · 2 years ago
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Lemme tell you about TROLL HAL*
(*from here on out I’m just gonna refer to him as halwyr because that’s his name (it sounds like. halware. like malware. this pun was funnier the first time i said it i think))
anyways way back when i made a whole lore post about him & his backstory so i’m just gonna drop random thoughts about him here
he’s intersex that’s a thing that’s recently been added to his lore :) (there was a brief period when he was just a wee grub where he was female-presenting, but he also was a shut in for most of his early life so once he was older troll society just kinda went ‘a male fuchsiablood????? gasp!!!’ because no one really remembers him ever identifying as anything but male and also i like to think that at the very very minimum troll society by and large respects how trolls identify (sorry for going on another tirade but. there’s theoretically a troll out there giving everyone top surgery and i think that’s hilarious) )
back in the old days there was gonna be a whole thing with halwyr having to helm a ship to escape (that happened still. they went to earth where the condesce just so happens to be *cough cough* mind control fuckery involved with the helming *cough cough*) and being a little uhhhh. extra computery because of that. i was grasping at straws for how to make him resemble his canon self personality wise so he ended up being a psionic he has technopathy so that’s cool he doesn’t have to type with his longass claws what was i saying oh yeah anyways that was going to cause him and deirik (troll dirk) to have a more strained relationship and halwyr was going to be bitter about the whole ‘product of genetic experimentation’ thing and also the fact that he ended up being the one used as a living battery but uh. sorry not sorry that didn’t happen deirik and halwyr are moirails now & they care for each other canon is my sandbox and I’m using it to make glass fight me (i couldn’t think of any other reason why they’d have an even remotely brotherly relationship given that siblings aren’t a thing in troll society but i remembered that the mspa wiki page for moirallegiance said it was closest to the greek (roman?) concept of brotherly love so they’re moirails now tada)
*clears my throat* anyways at this point hal and dirk are merely inspiration for halwyr and deirik canon is out the window it hit the ground shattered into a million pieces the best of which i am now using to make a mosaic
halwyr is REALLY fuckin protective of his moirail and friends (except for jaeyke (troll jake) who is his kismesis plus That One Time Deirik Died (And Got Better) halwyr still totally blames jaeyke for that (and jaeyke blames halwyr. isn’t death and resurrection fun 😊 ) also it’s totally jaeyke’s fault don’t even get me started) uhh so basically he’s just protective of deirik roxxan and troll jane who’s name i can’t remember how to spell (jaehna???)
(deirik is jaeyke and halwyr‘s auspice he thinks they’re both idiots)
also he totally uses his status as heir for his peeps’ benefit also also he has brutally murdered a bunch of people for hurting deirik but i think i mentioned that in the lore post (the telekinetic bone-snatching) (at this point idk what i’ve said in the lore post that i might just be repeating)
also also also halwyr is exactly as mentally ill as i am which is to say quite except he doesn’t have social anxiety good for him (no, instead the social anxiety got projected onto ac but that’s a whole nother story)
so he’s very uh. *glances at the fact that i basically just confessed halwyr has the same mental illnesses that i do* let’s just say his mood instability doesn’t mix well with the capital-r Rage that accompanies the higher bloodcastes (hence the brutal murdering, which for legal reasons i must specify did not come directly from me)
unrelated but deirik is a goldblood but he’s offshade just barely enough to be noticeable without getting culled by the drones which is a big reason why halwyr is so protective of him alternia is lethal as fuck especially to the lower castes especially especially to those with even minor mutations
(in the unnamed fun side timeline deirik accidentally murders halwyr and somehow ends up surviving to adulthood and is forced to helm the condesce‘s ship both out of punishment for killing her heir (that she didn’t even like in the first place smh 🙄) and just because he’s ridiculously fuckin op psionics-wise but it’s ok! ghost halwyr ends up in the dream bubbles (there’s no game in this so it’s really just a Because I Said So situation again. if it makes you feel better maybe his lusus got him special afterlife privileges) and the two of them manage to connect over Trollian…. after like 4 sweeps of misery for the both of them💀)
(unrelated they’re both neurodivergent as fuck did i mention that yet)
yknow i get the feeling more people would care about this au if i focused exclusively on deirik instead and also if dave was also a troll but nope. you get halwyr and deirik being joint main characters of the au and distinctly-human alpha dave adopting some traumatized alien teenagers
(deirik belongs to @whydontwebegin btw that’s part of the reason i only ever post about halwyr i don’t think i could characterize deirik accurately)
anyways if anyone reads this far halwyr‘s pesterchum handle is thoroughTechnologist (i was in a hurry coming up with it at the time and it’s long since too late now so don’t @ me) so if you’re ever in the mood for rp I’m online sometimes (I’m afk a lot though so i might not respond)
i'm sleep deprived as fuck sorry if this makes zero sense or if i contradicted myself i wrote this in two sittings
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nicsalazar · 1 year ago
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Blood for parts || Nicole & Parker
TIMING: Current LOCATION: The Pines PARTIES: @wonder-in-wings & @nicsalazar SUMMARY: Parker adds a new item to his collection CONTENT WARNING: Surgery tw, drug manipulation tw, animal cruelty tw.
It was getting antsy. Nicole had gotten better at discerning when it was her own anxiety clawing at her ribcage —akin a flutter, like dead things crawling beneath her sternum— and when it was the jaguar demanding attention. That was a cold strike, right in the middle, expanding and pulsing until Nicole felt her heart jump at her throat. It was like that right now. Had been for the better part of a week. She had neglected it too long, and not for the usual reasons. Work had been demanding, in the thick of fire season she could count the days she was back home with the fingers on one hand. And when she got respite, she had to handle things like hunters coming out of nowhere making attempts on her life or beasts trying to drown her. Or fucking goo. And then, all she wanted to do with the precious time that remained was to spend it with Leah. It was all— It was just hard, finding time to reacquaint herself with the beast.
A beast that she still liked keeping at arm's length, anyway. So maybe, she was just trying to find justification for her own conscious choices. But it had been patient, Nicole had to concede. It deserved one night to finally get some fresh air.
She had left her car behind, walked almost a mile to venture deep in the heart of the forest, where the light barely filtered. She was far away enough that she wouldn’t have to worry about people getting a look at a Jaguar. The two had seemed to have reached an agreement with that, at least. She hoped. Releasing the monster with the condition it didn’t wander off to dangerous places.  
The jaguar —her jaguar, she had to start using the right words— was a temperamental creature. Nicole had to let it come out when it was ready, willing. Hardly ever did so at her command, so when she reached her usual spot, it didn’t surprise her that the pulsing in her body was gone. She readied herself anyway, placing her clothes and items somewhere she would remember to get back to. She inhaled, slow and big, holding for a second then releasing with a shaky breath. 
Hello?
An intense cold struck her chest, wrapping around her ribcage. At least it was awake. Stirring. Nicole felt pressure behind her eyes, a known sign of something shifting. And when she blinked, the night revealed itself through the beast’s eyes. Clearer, sharper. Picking up on everything that hid behind the trees.
It was a matter of time before—
The cramp in her leg sent her to the ground. Fuck. Unexpected and fucking rude. But she had to ignore the pain. It was happening. It was here, Cold sweat dripped down her neck, her heart pounding erratically. Nicole heaved, anticipating the pain about to overcome her. This part didn't get any easier. Her brain was still firing, letting go wasn’t something she excelled at. Part of her wished to retain control, which never made the battle easy for the jaguar. Her hair stood on end, goosebumps spreading across her skin. It would be over soon, though. It would be done in a second… The Jaguar was more lenient these days.
Breathe. That voice anchoring her final echo of conscience never felt like her own. It came from nowhere, disembodied. Overhead, inside. Everywhere. Strong, yet soothing. Connecting Nicole to something beyond her comprehension. Ancestral power, and magic seeping from within. 
Muscles tore, bones snapped, but no blood was spilled. It was the last thing Nicole registered. An ethereal mist billowed from the cracks, gliding over human skin and engulfing the body completely. In a mix of wisp and flesh, the beast emerged freely, releasing a powerful roar. And like any feline, regardless of size, it stretched, welcoming the extra space around its playground.  
The forest, any forest really, was ideal for Parker nowadays. Given the past… month or so, with its instabilities, uncertainties, and mood swings that didn’t exist before in any comfortable plane of existence in his mind, the Warden was on the road to recovery. Again. As usual. Every once in a while he was reminded by himself that hunters were inherently flawed, not through their own actions, but through a fundamental mutation in their dna. To be a hunter in any capacity was to experience pain. The same could be said about humans but that wasn’t entirely true either, was it? He didn’t know the ins and outs of shifters and the undead but even the informal names for them seemed to answer the curiosity about whether or not they felt anything.  The Warden used to not think about it.
He’d had a lot of misadventures in the past few weeks. A lot of emotions he didn’t know existed and among those he did, he had no idea he was capable of feeling them. Parker had encountered a grifter, the shifter whose tail he managed to not take, the nymph whose tail he managed to take, what he presumed to be a demon and someone he refused to believe as such. He spent a much more significant amount of time crying, ruining his less important belongings and second-guessing himself than he’d ever have liked. His sleep schedule was in tatters, ripped to shreds by the despair and terror of those emotions that he’d accidentally absorbed from the godforsaken crystal in that alley.
Very few of those emotions that had plagued him the past couple of weeks were retained. The pendulum was so desperate to stop moving, to stop feeling anything that the first day after Rayne had helped him, Parker didn’t leave his house. He sat in the comfortable high-backed chair in his basement, illuminated by the warm glow of the lamp on the table from that morning after a last, fitful sleep until it was so far into the night that the upstairs was darker than the downstairs. He sat, in complete, serene silence. He sat, staring at the fractions of his collection, feeling scraps of emotion trying to push through the cast-iron wall he erected.
He didn’t feel anything.
A roar abruptly shook him out of those ruminations and instinctively, Parker’s gaze became alerted and he hastily retreated to the safety of a thick tree trunk. His hand rested on his thick leather belt, the familiar belt from which hung several different tools, his needle-like knives and pouches. A few weeks ago, the sound wouldn’t have given him pause or thoughts to concern himself with and even now, he wasn’t scared but there was certainly something familiar about that roar in particular. It belonged to a big cat.
A jaguar, if he had to guess. Parker licked his lower lip and his sharp blue eyes started to glance around for the source, hoping that whatever it was wasn’t behind him.
The roar that reverberated in the night air as it broke loose was glowering. Any remaining creatures might have vanished before the sound stopped resonating against the trees. What followed was a tiny, content chuff, as a nod of appreciation to the human for its release. There weren’t many spontaneous outings anymore. Not since the dormant human had tightened control. Although strained, the relationship was slowly moving toward understanding.Toward coexistence in harmony. The jaguar would never accept taming, but the compromise worked. For now. The beast sauntered, stretching its limbs, tail low as it felt no threat in the vicinity. Content to be outside again. Its amber eyes glazed over, capturing the night with more lucidity than its human counterpart.
At last, the beast was free to roam where it belonged. To feel the night breeze against its fur, ruffling orange and black hues. To sense the ominous energy pulsing underground, and listen to the humming of life within the forest. The jaguar had always been intended to exist in this manner. Connected to the earth. Delicate ears and eyes scanned the area for potential victims that might have been unable to flee. Because nature was a beautiful thing, entwined to the animal in more than one way, but the jaguar had spent too long in captivity not to savor the thrill of a hunt. 
However, the beast’s plans changed in an instant.
The air suddenly sizzled with new energy, and the jaguar’s instincts kicked in. Danger loomed. The animal paused when it became aware of a second presence nearby. Keen ears perked up at each suspicious rustling of leaves. Expectant eyes shone in the shadows. Observing every detail, looking for threats. Awaiting. There was a blur of orange and black as the jaguar turned towards the encroaching sounds, claws out and teeth bared to defend itself.
Amid the trees and the shadows, a man stood. The jaguar inhaled, committing to memory the scent of its victim. It had never smelled human blood like that before. Tilting its head in curiosity, the jaguar turned slowly, taking long strides as it crept silently toward him. Movements smooth, approach measured. But only for so little. The smoldering gaze was transfixed on the tall figure. Hungry for too long. Aching for a big meal. This was an ideal position for the jaguar to be in, stalking its prey from behind. The beast didn't want to wait any longer, it drooled at its future victim inched closer. And perhaps, it was this desire that overshadowed the usual precision for stealth attacks.The jaguar leaped with terrible force. Claws plunged into flesh, a death grip on its prey, and the energy of the blow sent them both crashing against the forest floor, the jaguar momentarily pinning down the man.
All things considered, Parker probably should’ve been more well-prepared on the chance that he’d encounter something unfamiliar or outside of his specific wheelhouse of expertise - to say that Wicked’s Rest was a hotspot for supernatural creatures was something of an understatement to him. He’d already interacted with a jaguar shifter twice, not even knowing what to call them, and neither time had been preferable. He did learn a thing or two about them, though… they weren’t like what he knew of werewolves, at least not in their entirety. He also did more research into jaguars in general as essentially they seemed to act identical even if it was a shifter who transformed into one. Jaguars were… cats. They were adjusted for seeing in the dark that surrounded Parker, light on their feet to allow easy stalking and dextrous. And their fangs were large. This was seemingly common knowledge for people who weren’t him, who specialized in insects, alligators and snakes but never paid any attention in the way of nonhuman mammals. ‘You really should’ve paid more attention’ he heard his brother say in his head as he heard nothing (which tracked with his notably poor hearing to begin with) and felt claws in his skin, effortlessly tearing through his shirt and being forced to the ground. A weight was on top of him and his lightning quick reflexes didn’t seem to be fast enough as Parker gasped sharply from the pain of both the punctures in his flesh and his shoulder aching as he landed on it. In the next instant, as he felt the oppressive force of the jaguar pushing against him, he pulled the long dagger from the holster on his thigh and he swung in a broad gesture, not caring what he hit or how he hit it - he wasn’t going to be able to do much of anything if he couldn’t move sufficiently.
From its position, crushing its prey under the weight of its massive paws, the jaguar couldn’t have been more favored. Its victim was much larger than the average prey usually found in this forest. Generally, the jaguar wasn’t inclined to attack humans, satisfied with the scraps it was able to get with each outing. Coyotes, deer sometimes. Moose once, but it was already half eaten. So when the opportunity presented itself —such tremendous prey, so easily caught— it would be unthinkable not to take advantage of it. 
Hot blood oozed from the man’s wounds, causing the jaguar to lick its muzzle in anticipation. Feral and hungry. Its most lethal weapon against prey, the bite, would guarantee a quick death. The jaguar bared razor sharp teeth, claws dug deeper into his muscles, blocking any attempt to escape as it readied for the final strike. What the jaguar didn't know was that the man, its prey, was carrying a weapon on him. A few of his aimless attempts tore off white underbelly, blood splattering onto his face as result. The jaguar cried out in pain and retreated, not before scratching the victim a few more times, with the intention of stopping the attacks and severing the man’s arm if it could. The jaguar jumped off the man’s body, back on soft grass, slowly smearing it with its blood. But the beast wouldn’t let a small scratch deter it. Glowering eyes were fixed on its victim, waiting for its next move. The most instinctual part of the animal, the part that kept it alive for five years, urged it to retreat, to run. But the arrogant part, the part that wanted its rightful place among wildlife, knew what a fearsome beast it was, needed to test its rival’s strength and come out on top. Prove itself superior. A simple knife wouldn’t be strong enough to stop the beast. In fact, it was an insult to believe so. This need to run away and escape was sometimes strangely as if the human within bled onto the beast’s psyche. Scared, weak. It was that split second of beast or human conundrum that gave the man on the ground a moment to gather himself.
Parker wasn’t the type of person to cry out in pain; even when Felix’ jaguar had latched its claw into his face, nearly blinding him and cleaving down to the bone, he didn’t yell. That was the case now, even as he felt the creature’s claws embedding themselves deeper into his flesh. The Warden’s blood, wanting to react instinctively but not suited for a non-fae, seeped from the openings between the thick claws and his skin and he felt it harder to catch his breath. Parker wondered, for a moment as he felt the stinging from the puncture wounds, if he was actually going to die and rather than feel a primitive fear, he was more or less disappointed. Sad, even, at how he never got to finish his collection. So when his wild swinging managed to get the creature to back off (though not before wrenching its talons through his arm, eliciting another involuntary, though restrained grunt of pain), Parker relied further on those enhanced reflexes and scrambled to his knees at least while the beast glared at him. Crimson from his wounds splashed the ground, mixing with the jaguar’s on the dark forest floor and he felt his arm throbbing - dislocated shoulder, most likely, as well as bleeding from the deep gashes that now wrapped themselves around his shoulder and bicep. Though he wanted to address it, he didn’t dare take his own steely blue eyes off the warm ambers of the jungle cat. It hesitated and Parker scanned his brain for information he retained and since learned, both about jaguars in general and from his interactions with Felix; jaguars weren’t native to Maine, obviously. That meant it had either escaped from the zoo, which Parker wasn’t even sure there were any in the Wicked’s Rest zoo, or there was a person inside of the animal, in a metaphysical sense. Unfortunately, the Warden didn’t grant this one the luxury that he had to Felix, indeed using that experience to color this one and he quickly came to the conclusion that he wasn’t a ranger so even though his strength exceeded that of non-powered humans, he lacked the knowledge to sufficiently fight the balam. Plus, even as he bled out from multiple injuries and had trouble moving the fingers on his dislocated arm, he wanted to stare at the creature’s tail. He failed once, an error he didn’t want to repeat. He couldn’t ignore that his arm needed attention before he could harvest, though. And in order to do that, he needed to try sedating again. So, keeping his icy eyes on the darkened figure of the snarling beast, he dropped the dagger with enough force that it stuck out of the blood-smattered ground and he used a strong hand to pull three of the thin, needle-like daggers from his belt, holding them in a cluster in a large palm and… he waited. He wasn’t going to engage the creature on his own terms, they were going to fight on its own. He just needed to be quicker, just a little.
The human was a mess. Weakened by the claws, arm dangling oddly, bleeding onto the forest floor. The jaguar was determined not to give up another meal. Not after the red mist threatened its life and spoiled a sizable prey last time. Feline eyes met human ones, and the beast recognized a predator in its opponent. His demeanor, his reluctance to surrender. To run for safety. It snarled, understanding what was about to unfold. Proud and certain it would come out the victor. The dagger fell to his feet, stopping the jaguar’s movements. Feline instinct came to the forefront, as the creature stared curiously. A paw swiped in the air, almost as if it wished to play with the blade on the ground, but discarding the idea after a beat. Eyes locked onto the man after the distraction, watching him pull out a different kind of sharp object out of his stomach.
The Jaguar could see it had the physical advantage, despite pacing with a stagger due to the slashing wound in its flank. Another roar boomed; Another warning, a chance for its enemy to retreat. Head tilted to the side, the animal didn’t blink, unable to comprehend the sight. The man simply waited. Amber gaze took in its adversary. He would’ve been worthy of respect had they not found themselves in a battle for survival. Ears pinned in defiance, a ferocious gaze bore into him. Something shifted within the animal as amber stared into blue. The beast didn’t want to wait longer, mouth watering as the smell of his blood reached its nose. Hunger ready to be sated. 
The jaguar could have retreated. It had done a good job — though less precise than other times— in mangling the man, who might bleed out from his wounds sooner rather than later. And then, it could feast. But the jaguar was far more stubborn than Nicole, who always fought for survival above anything. The animal felt her influence, the fight to get back in control stirring inside, sinking hot into its chest. Yet hind legs were quick to spring, catching the man again for another tussle. This time, there was less of a collision and more of a shove, weakened by the blood loss, inexplicably restrained by other forces and the strike missed where it was intended to land —the head, where it should have killed in one blow—and instead found purchase somewhere between the ground and his shoulder. Unintentionally, lowering its head offered the man a better angle to unleash the trick up his sleeve.
The roar echoed through the woods, banging off of the trees and distorting itself to anyone who might’ve heard it in the distance. Having grown accustomed to the sound, however, and with only one working ear and the fresh spikes of pain keeping his mind from giving in to a primal fear at staring down a mighty jungle cat, Parker’s eyes narrowed slightly as he anticipated the next move. He wondered if there was any hidden rationale behind the molten gold stare. He wondered if there was an internal battle between the human and the jaguar; his talk with Felix had only made him more cognizant of the fractured splinters of knowledge that it was a vessel torn in two… or perhaps, two halves of a vessel merged into one. The human, the jaguar. Felix’ jaguar’s name was Wildcat; did this one have a name designated? Did this creature think in terms a human would, understand complex ideas or heed instruction? Or was Parker correct in his assumptions that the jaguar was a safety precaution, something for the human to fall back on and hide behind when the human was being threatened or inconvenienced? Did the person really respect the jaguar? Because it seemed like Felix didn’t until the Warden started undignifying himself by insulting the shifter. And really, was he wrong? Felix the human couldn’t do much, if anything, compared to Parker; the jaguar, whether they liked, hated, tolerated or rejected it, was a bodyguard. ‘Shifters are probably the most pathetic’, his father said to the brothers once, replaying in his mind as the spotted predator leapt at him again, time seeming to slow once more. ‘Vampires and zombies are mindless but the solutions to distract ‘em till you can put ‘em down are easy as hell - blood ‘n brains.’ The jaguar rammed him, pushing him back with a powerful shoulder as more claws caught in his thigh. Teeth pushing against his belt and the tips of fangs puncturing his waist. ‘Shifters are pathetic because you can’t reason with an animal. You can’t reason with any nonhumans but animals are the worst about it.’ Parker was forced against the tree he stood near, held in place by the weight of the animal and feeling his teeth clench as his dislocated shoulder was pressed into the rough bark but his lightning reflexes saw the opportunity he was presented - the hole in the armor, the achilles heel. Swiftly, sucking in his stomach to avoid the large canines from reaching any deeper into his flesh from about the thick leather belt, he brought his hand down and plunged the three needles into the jaguar’s exposed neck. A thumb quickly moved between all three of them, pressing the mechanism that shot the sedatives out of the needles and coursing through the jaguar and now… all he could do was hope that it would’ve been enough. ‘Then again, you can’t be reasoned with either, can you boy?’
It was barely a sting, an inconvenience. Small animals had done more damage. The jaguar felt it, sharp against its broad neck, but wasn’t detracted from what was attempting to do, which was to tear through the man’s abdomen. The human was strong opposition, however. Stronger than any other human it had encountered before, even with his wounded flesh dangling between them. And maybe that’s what his distinct blood meant. The struggle for dominance was more balanced than originally perceived. 
The agent introduced to its system took time to spread to, time where the jaguar continued thrashing about with furious strength, fangs and claws still sharp and damaging, but its movements growing heavier and erratic. A calming haze overtook the creature soon enough, full weight tipping against the human’s body. Something tried pushing against the surface, keep the monster awake. It banged tirelessly against the wall that was the human and beast psyche. Hopeless in its pursuit. 
The beast was drowsy, confused as to why its senses were suddenly numb. His scent weakened in its nose. Its mouth wouldn’t open to deliver the final blow. Limbs gave out and the massive weight fell, a booming noise disrupting the quiet night as it hit the ground. The animal had been rendered useless, completely lulled into a peaceful slumber. At the hunter’s mercy.
The distribution of the sedative through the jaguar was excruciatingly long, or so it felt to Parker as the Warden abandoned the daggers in the big cat’s neck in favor of putting a strong hand against its throat in an effort to keep the wide maw, dripping with saliva and his blood, from causing a more severe injury to his abdomen. His expression did change this time, allowing himself to show more strain as he felt the claws haphazardly tearing into him, the teeth moving under his skin carelessly. For a moment, he wondered if it had been enough, if he should start making peace with his inevitable, yet premature death that night. Then another moment passed, and another, and another as he resisted the weight of the big cat as best he could. Then… less effort. Slowed movements. Claws were retracted and bite force applied lightened pressure against his belt and his stomach. The beast leaned into him, forcibly oozing blood from the multiple holes and shredded gashes the giant claws had punctured into him and he even allowed a ghost of a whimper to escape as his dislocated shoulder was given even less space. And with a final confirmation that the sedative had, indeed, worked, the spotted apex predator fell at his feet. Immediately, Parker gasped for air and he carefully took a couple of stumbling steps away from the jaguar, speckling his belt and the forest floor with his blood. Where he could already feel some of the more superficial wounds starting to knit themselves together and would probably be just faint memories by the following day, he knew the teeth marks in his stomach would probably leave lasting marks and he really should’ve taken the time to stitch yet more jaguar claw marks that found themselves on his arm but he was working under more borrowed time; he only had two sedatives left, that he was sure to use if he needed them.
For now, the Warden got onto the ground quickly, wincing as he felt his muscles rippling under, attempting to relax his muscles. ‘If you need to relocate your shoulder, lay on the ground and relax,’ he heard his mother’s kind, yet firm instructions in his ear; she was always commanding and never seemed to underplay the importance of what she was teaching himself and Walker. ‘Slowly reach the dislocated arm over your head, eventually placing it behind your head.’ Breathing deeply, ignoring the throbbing all over his body, he did so. ‘If you feel pain, you’re going too fast.’ He didn’t, not there, not any more than was usual for the four rivets in his shoulder and bicep. ‘Now reach for your opposite shoulder.’ With a loud pop and a sharp gasp, Parker’s shoulder snapped back into place and he could move all his fingers again.
He didn’t think anything further of the action; he wasn’t proud, relieved or satisfied. No, he only felt purpose and drive as his sharp blue eyes darted back over to the now-sleeping jungle cat. Flexing the feeling back into his fingers, Parker pulled out his usual tools with the exception of the iron dagger used for cauterization and he got to work. He moved fast, but carefully, not allowing himself to get distracted by the beauty of the tail; he was close. He was so close. As he worked, he thought of Wildcat’s melanistic tail, how the black was dappled and swirled with the orange; he thought about how he had made so many mistakes the first time that he was sure not to rectify now and indeed, he ended up using both of his extra daggers as an extra safety precaution.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he worked in the dark, eerily still forest night, a surgeon of obsession and beauty harvesting from another participant who couldn’t appreciate what it possessed the way Parker could. But by the time he finished, his hands coated in the jaguar’s blood now instead of his own, he cleaned his tools on one of the two sleeves he’d torn from his shirt. Using the same sleeve, he carefully and securely wrapped it around the bleeding stump, the last remnant of the beautiful, long tail that was now in his possession. He didn’t thank the jungle cat, but as he got to his feet and even more carefully slid the tail into the other sleeve, he did regard it. The sleeping form, the powerful jaws, the thick pelt.
Parker removed his gaze from the jaguar and glanced around the area briefly for any tools he might’ve left behind and when he made sure there weren’t any this time, he turned and started to skulk off, breathing deeply through his nose to keep his trembling hands that were caked with drying blood from tearing themselves up in fervent attempts to scrape it off. He’d need to find a stream on his way to his Workshop.
The jaguar felt no pain, remaining blissfully numb as the hunter worked on slashing its tail. The sedative effect of the darts continued long after he was gone, carrying his new token with him. Hours passed, the pool of blood dried, and the jaguar was peacefully overtaken by its human counterpart. 
Nicole didn’t wake until the colors of dawn splashed the sky. Her muscles were more rigid than usual, hard to achieve considering her job. Her eyelids were so heavy and stubborn, she debated going back to sleep. But she hadn’t been asleep, right? She wasn’t in a comfortable mattress next to Leah. Nor in the beat up sleeping bag she used for work. The memories of the previous night came flooding back. She was— She had gone out, it was time to let the jaguar free. Right. It made sense, how disoriented she felt. How loud every noise reached her ears, how every scent prickled her nose, or how the light might be too bright for her eyes. It always took a few moments to recalibrate after the spirit had taken over. She felt nauseated, mouth dry, neck aching like she slept in the wrong position. It hadn’t felt this bad since— She refused to entertain her painful memories so early in the day. She had a full shift to get through. The jaguar must’ve had fun during its outing. Caught prey or— she didn’t care. The jaguar could do what it pleased, they weren’t a unit.   
Nicole stirred, attempting to stretch, but a sharp pain struck her abdomen. Her eyes were wide open a beat later. Glancing down at the cuts and scratches in her stomach, dried blood mixing with the damp soil. Fuck? She jolted up, to her knees, examining her wounds. It was…bad, but nothing too deep. Nothing Leah’s tears couldn’t fix in a few hours. It stung, burned as a finger poked with curiosity, but it wasn’t the worst pain she’d ever felt. Not even close. The jaguar must’ve wrestled a few animals. The logical, most obvious explanation for her state. It made sense. She couldn’t stay all day lingering on what the beast got up to. She needed to gather her bag and items and go find her car, needed a warm shower to soothe her stiff body. Her muscles tensed, readying herself to get up. And—
Something felt wrong. No, something was wrong. 
It was as if her pelvis was trying to split open. Nicole never imagined she’d had to feel something like that. If that was something that could be felt at all. She gritted her teeth, heaving as she passed the wave of throbbing pain in her lower back. It pulsed for a moment and then it was gone. Nicole didn’t stop panting, breathing hijacked by the anxiety wrapping around her ribcage. Another cut maybe? She reached behind her, palming the expanse of her back. It completely smooth and clean, save for old scars and the remnants of forest floor. Phantom pain. But why would— Her eyes spotted a piece of cloth on the ground, stained with blood. Small needles scattered not far away. An animal wouldn’t leave that, would they? She blinked, wondering what she was missing. but before the puzzle pieces could connect, the worst, most excruciating pain she’d ever felt shot up her spine. 
The air got knocked out of her lungs, her heart beat out of her ears. She shrunk on the ground begging for it to pass quickly. It didn’t, only intensified, every nerve ending on fire. Nothing stopped the scream that ripped her throat raw, sounds of agony piercing the quiet morning, scaring the remaining animals witnessing her torture. She was dizzy with pain, losing her breath, unable to wrap her mind around what could possibly explain this. 
Then it all went back to black again.
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eimearkuopio · 19 days ago
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I love it! Thank you for sharing this story, you've made my day.
💚💜🩷
Love from Auntie Kindness Bones, PhD
I've been a warrior all along, but patriarchal BS meant they thought I was the Grace of Our Lady, but I only bend the knee to Our Lady of Tooth and Claw, and I won't look back. There's a fire under the shiny altar I keep lying to.
Sorry about the word salad. Apparently this is my life now, but at least I know I'm Neutral Good. If I was either Lawful or Chaotic, that would kind of suck for everyone else; but it's probably for the best that I'm not going for true neutral either, because life requires change and that means imbalance. I'm not above putting a little finger with a backwards knuckle bone on humanity's side of the scales. After all, I'm only human. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
See you soon, love{s}. I think my eyes are still green, which means I still have work to do, but I'm done being a solo act. (Hi Britney! Thanks for reminding me about The Ring{s}.)
Couldn't have done it without the extras and the ensemble, but I want to call out Paloma Faith, R_NB, and Lisa L in particular. They kept me from falling to pi[s/e]ces while I was in the eye of the hurricane. They taught me the Way, either without knowing any more of the Story or the Context than I did, or without spoiling me so that I could be River Song instead of Melody Pond or River Tam. I'll let S_M handle the rest of the credits, because I think it might be my day off. I'm not Jewish, but Shabbat Shalom to me. Tell M_M that tomorrow will be Thursday 24.10.2024 and I just had my first re-birthday. I've already told people what I want, but just in case:
Nobody deliberately hurts my loved ones ever again. We get our lives. Institutions get what scraps we can spare. Individuals get whatever surplus we have, but it will take time to reach a new equilibrium safely, so we all need to be patient at least a little longer. I think by 5th November things should be unquangled fully, but I keep telling people I might be wrong.
My notes. From DNH, from home, from my office. Moved somewhere I can continue the work instead of abandoning it, but where it won't stress Ad out.
Green eyes. My own secret name that someone should tell me, because this only worked in the first place because I gave all my names away. ...ah, okay, yeah, thank you, I got that. Thanks, T.
A seat at my own table (currently in Kuopio afaik, but I'm very patient; and while you're getting it from Anne P's parents maybe grab the books etc. that are being stored with it.
For people to listen to my concerns genuinely, because by the time I speak up, it's already almost too late anyway.
Peace in the Middle East for me, and in Ukraine for my husband. I don't know how to make it happen, but maybe ask M_Fa. She's married to D_m if you don't know who I mean, but also, you can ask me stuff. If I'm not completely bananas by now, just asking questions won't do any harm.
-Swan not Cleon or Ajax (ask LMM, if I'm Chesed he's one of the adjacent Sefirot even though I've never met him; and if I'm not Chesed, I don't mind just being a worker instead of a warrior, but I'm allergic to Royal Jelly so you're going to have to find a new Queen if you want me to stop droning on and get down to buzz-ness at UMH)
Left eye worse than right eye but I think I should see an optician when I get out of here. I probably won't go to Mr Manuel, I know my whole family does because he's great but I don't want to have to wait until Dublin to get my eyes checked.
-Rembrandt the Warrior (remember the d and the t are both necessary; and I'm not Atlas, but I just shrugged and did a trick, so I guess I'm a loose seal too, rather than a mermaid or a siren or a huge manatee)
Yes, I did put Warriors on shuffle. That's how it works here. I'm the Tabernacle. Be not afraid. I'm still here, I'm finally me, and that means you are too. 144009-Love, Dennis Moon Moon God of the Zeroth House XO xo ox OX -Luisa
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stxr-bxster · 2 years ago
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Slip a ⏰to see a memory or a part of my muses' past.
Disclaimer for some kinda' gory depictions of a warzone.
A string of quiet, heaving sounds undercut by weak, raspy attempts to suck in some air through spasming muscles echoed in the warm, humid air. The rasps slowed, as though the reflexive muscular tremors were abating, only for an attempted deep a breath at the wrong time to shatter whatever composure the fresh recruit was trying to muster up. A sickening splattering noise followed soon after.
Krigg coughed, throat burning and eyes watering from the sudden chunder, hand pressed against the wide form of a fallen chain crab for stability. Well... the ass end of a chain crab, anyways. The bus-sized beast's segmented body ended quite abruptly in a splintered mess of shattered carapace and pulped flesh where a falling orbital shell had shredded half of it into paste. The corpse rose from the mass of the dead like some malformed boulder, its legs frozen in death in twisted arches that seemed to try and grab at the skies.
A fresh shell's distant whistle tore through the atmosphere, the baleful ringing growing in intensity until a bone-shuddering clap sounded off, the roar of the explosion moving like a liquid mass through ground and air. The small alien's body gave a distressed shiver, the autocannon she hadn't let go of rattling in her grip. Her fingers ached from gripping the weapon so tight her knuckles went white for so long. Another scream, another bang, another nauseated gag escaped her, another quake of her body - weaker, tired.
The world was so, so loud. Every new boom from distant shelling pounding the next area to clean up was like claws raking at her spine, sinking under her ribs to press razor edges against her heart. The world had been worse what felt like seconds before - but every sound felt like it could be the jumpstart of something new, the violent return of death and danger. It sunk deep, violently shaking tired nerves back into cruelly acute awareness.
The charge had been a maelstrom of noise, fire and vibration. A vivid nightmare she wasn't sure she'd dreamed or lived. A wall of information threatening to crush her from all sides she had to push through, holding steadfast to her training, lest she meet a gruesome end along with her comrades. And the smell- oh, the smell! Ozone and burnt flesh and bile and a million other disgusting scents clawing at her throat.
It was worse then, once it was over. The battlefield around her was nothing but rubble, upturned earth and the bodies of dead things. A few on her side. Many, many, MANY on the other. The ground was a carpet of pulped flesh, gristle, shell, bone and guts through which liquefied flesh and blood ran in knee-deep, muddy puddles. It was wrong. Everything was wrong in a way her body rejected violently. The air was wrong, the place was wrong, and she wanted out out OUT OUT-
"Alright rookie, not so bad." Krigg tensed harshly at the foreign sound ringing out from behind her, autocannon springing back into a proper two-handed grip. She spun sharply, heels skidding against the slick ground, only for her to slowly, painfully lower her weapon at the sight of another squadmate. A large, heavily modded combat cyborg with a bulky chest and four grasping limbs modified with bladed implements. Has Krigg been from elsewhere, she would have compared them to a top-heavy bionic praying mantis, with an extra pair of graspers on their shoulders.
The veteran squad member ambled closer, reaching out to tap her shoulder with the graspers on the end of his bladed forelimb. She shrank away from the touch, the intrusion feeling foreign and too raw on frayed nerves. If they noticed, they didn't care. "Don't worry, everyone's first scrap goes a bit like this. Lucky you, you made it out alive, and given your performance in the thick of it rather than on the backline, you just might cut it to climb the ranks!"
"I'll be seeing you later. Welcome to the extermination corps. Get used to killing things, you'll be doing plenty of that."
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valentine-writes · 2 years ago
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" say you'll stay with me! "
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↳ ft. montgomery gator, sun/sunnydrop and moon/moondrop
「 gn! reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」
author's note: IM ACTUALLY POSTING ACTIVELY?? .........no im not writing quick and short self indulgent headcanons wydm haha.... based off the song "tiny planets" by remember sports. basically just clingy reader who works there (and does more hanging put w/ the animatronics than their job becuz in fairness? i wud 2) + these characters!!!! short and sweet hcs (o´∪`o) <3 (except for moon's because i accidentally went overboard with the dialogue. i love interactions w/ moon.) as per usual, grammatical errors and spelling mistakes are most likely present, sorry!
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▸ catching MONTGOMERY GATOR by surprise when you grab onto his hand as he turns to leave. he's confused- staring at you as you speak up.
"i was wondering..." you mumbled, shying away from his gaze, in fear of him seeing the shame burning on your face. "if you could maybe stay- just a little while longer- with uh.. me?.."
monty, who had been totally caught off guard replied with a confused, "uh... yeah?-" he has no idea why you wanted to stick around out of the blue, but he doesn't mind hanging around with you a little longer, considering the pizzaplex is already closer for the day and you're done your usual duties.
he watches your spirit lift instantly, a big smile on your face when he says yes. he lets out a small chuckle. it seemed like that was all you needed.
he doesn't mind your clinginess, not even in the slightest. you notice that sometimes, it even inflates his pride a bit, knowing you want to be around him for so long. on the other hand, it also lets him be clingy without having to even ask for it. he wants to be around you just as much as you wanna be around him! there's no sin in that.
if you're physically clingy? well. he doesn't mind that either. not a huge fan of hand holding considering his massive claws- but enjoys when you hold onto his arm. you find that he extends his arm to you more often when walking around, just to keep you close.
more hcs under the cut !!
▸ just before you both part ways for the day, SUN is the one who asks for a little extra time. any excuse at all to have your company a little longer.
"i forgot to mention!" he announced loudly, stopping you in your tracks. sun always made sure that his reasonings for you to stick around always sounded of the utmost importance, even if they were only just excuses. sun begins to lead you away from the daycare doors as he speaks, trying to get you to stay with very obvious tactics.
"the kids made me art today! they're very all talented artists, each of them- why don't you stay so i can show it off! i've got so much to show you! and- oho, that's not all, friend!! you still haven't told me about your day! you're still on break anyways- we've got time, don't we?"
(he talks a lot. like. a lot, a lot.)
sun is possibly even more clingy than you could ever be. which, i suppose, is a positive if you are also very attached to him. he'll spend every second on you as long as you show interest! the closing hours are pretty much reserved for you to hang out. of course, you still have your job to do, but he's more than happy to wait.
just don't keep him waiting too long! he uh. gets lonely- like super easily.
if you're more physically clingy, he's just delighted to provide all the attention you need! whether it's holding hands, cuddling, or even just those small, friendly touches like leaning your head on his shoulder, he's more than happy to receive or give that little bit of intimacy.
just remind him, you do in fact have bones, and with bones, you must be extra careful when hugging tightly in order not to break them. his embrace is generally gentle- but occasionally he will get overexcited and underestimate how little effort is required when accidentally squeezing the air out of your lungs.
▸ in the dark of the pizzaplex, MOON watches as you finish off your last task of the night. he had been lurking your entire shift once the lights were off. but now it was all over- you wondered if moon would leave you be.
you catch a glimpse of his figure in the shadows, slowly approaching you- and, which once was a terrifying sight, was now just a friend coming over for what you assumed was to say goodbye to you. before he can even speak a word, you interrupt.
"hey- i still um..." your voice trails, the animatronic's glowing eyes on you suddenly making you feel the need to stare at the floor.
moon only moves closer, waiting for you to finish your sentence. "what?"
you clear your throat, the awkward tension making it hard to even look him in the eyes. "i still got some time! are you- are you gonna leave me or... do you wanna-"
its voice box crackles with laughter. a strange, somewhat puzzled chuckle.
"you want me to stay?" he asks, the amusement still obviously present in his voice.
"only if you want to, really- i mean, i dont mind if you-"
"you want me," moon repeats slowly, its face plate rotating slowly into a tilt. "...to stay?"
now, he seems more puzzled than teasing.
"again, only if y-"
"answer the question."
you finally look up at him, exasperated. "moon. buddy. i've been telling you-"
"yes or no." his face plate tilts further, until it completes a full rotation. it sets itself in place with a click.
"yes. yes, whatever- i want you to stay." you admit, feeling cornered.
"clingy." he laughs, his wire lifting him off the ground to hover above you as he takes your face in his hands.
you swat him away, scrunching up your nose. "nevermind then! i'm heading off-"
he raises his hands in mock surrender, shrugging slightly. "kidding, kidding-"
you raise an eyebrow at this. though he seems earnest enough for you. why you had even bothered asking him to stay, he doesn't understand. but he likes the attention- a lot more than he cares to admit.
but funny of you to ask if he'd be leaving or not. you should've known that he sticks around- even when you don't realize.
if you're physically clingy, he doesn't mind. barely even bats an eye. he is very touchy himself (granted, without realizing) and likes being near you. however, his sense of physical affection manifests in sticking his cold metal hands on the back of your neck when you're unsuspecting, or grabbing your shoulders to scare you. you win some, you lose some.
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