#his eyes are actually red (inner) and purple (outer)

[simmingonthelow]

"You Are My Eternity"

~Macha Wording

Poses (slightly maybe edited) by @rebouks (top 3), @hannahssimblr (mid 2), and @lonerswhimsie (bottom 1).

[thecrowsart]

people: omg we finally get to see hyper! me: omg we finally get to see more angles of kusuriuri's clothes! observations and (A LOT OF) ranting under the cut:

1.)

The inside sleeve design has been revealed! It's pretty similar to the outside design but instead of that four-petal design, it's a gold circle. Also, it looks like the large eye is shared by both sides, but based on how the sleeve looks in other images, it must be really really big..... I guess they can get away with it lol. Like, if you laid out the sleeve fabric, I think it would look like this:

2.)

THE BACK OF HIS OBI. What the hell kinda knot is this actually... like, does anyone here know about obimusubi because I'm not very good at knots but if it comes down to it I will learn how this works. I already thought this based on the promo art but it seems like his obi fabric is double-sided, with purple on one side and the check pattern on the other, with a red trim. That lighter salmon color in the knot seems to be a different fabric, maybe an obiage? It's not tucked into the front so I'm not sure if that's the right term, but in any case it's some kind of extra fabric. If the purple and check are really one piece of fabric, then the knot is like... a hitch? It's some kind of one-loop bow, and it's quite bulky so he might have an obimakura in there. Whatever it is, it's considerably more elaborate than OG Kusuriuri's obi, which was that red brocade just tied into a large crooked bow. Who is helping movie Kusuriuri get dressed in the morning? (I'm sure he can do it himself and I commend him for the dedication to the aesthetic lol).

3.)

His mirror is now kept looped around this thick cord that kind of comes out of nowhere and disappears into his obi. First of all, how is the mirror staying up like that since the string is only looped once. Second, the thick white cord looks the same as the one that comes out of the left side of his obi and loops around his back, but I'm not sure how they would connect. Logically, they probably are the same cord and it goes through his obimusubi somehow. 4.)

This one was actually noticeable in the very first trailer as you can tell, since the second screenshot is from that trailer, but I somehow never noticed it until now. Kusuriuri has neck markings now! In a different frame I caught a glimpse of the part that goes into his collar, it looks like a circle, though it's not visible in either of these screenshots. But from the first screenshot and some other frames I saw, it looks somewhat off-center. I wasn't sure if it was just a weird frame at first, but it looks consistent the few other times (time?) that part of his neck is visible. It looks like the strip of red that leads down to the circle curves off to the left rather than going straight down the center. I didn't realize this before but his neck is actually concealed in most of the promo images.

5.)

A better look at the back of his socks, plus two things that were visible this whole time but I didn't notice: first, his black leggings have this folded layer you can probably see on top. I'm not sure how to describe it and I don't know exactly how it works. It seems weird to me that he would have three sock layers (outer black, inner black, white), so I think the two black layers are probably still part of the same sock. I'm just not sure exactly what's up with it. Secondly, his geta have metal corners on the teeth! I don't think I've seen that on real geta, so maybe it's just a random detail, but if it's a thing on some real geta, I wonder if it's to keep the wood from wearing away there. Also another think I'm just noticing, there's a reinforcing wedge of wood under the front part of his geta that overhand the front tooth. You can see it a little in the second image.

Overall, that's all the new design stuff I noticed. Since I just drew him twice and spent like all day thinking about this, I've realized his design is way more elaborate than the original one. He has a bunch of little doodads, like the ties around his ankle or that decorative tie that comes out of his ohashori:

which still bothers me because I've never seen the back of it. Where are those strings going. And how is it secured in the first place? is it tied or pinned underneath his ohashori, like on the tie under the obi (not sure if there's a name for it)? What is it? Why does he have this here?

These details as well as things like the corners and wedge on his geta, the red trim on the obi and the check pattern, and his elaborate eye make up are all design elements that could never really have worked for a tv show. It's impressive to me even that OG Kusuriuri had that hand drawn brocade texture and the designs on his kimono that he did. It's the type of thing animators usually avoid, lol.

I like the movie design visually, but my god is it a pain in the ass to draw. Due to the aforementioned details of course and the wider variety of colors. Oh yeah, my last (for real) observation is that this Kusuriuri looks a lot less human than our OG friend. His skin is entirely whitish-grey, and he has that white/purple and red hair, and now he has markings on his neck instead of just on his face. (Unrelated but I feel like they made his lip tattoo less prominent and it makes me sad because it's one of my favorite things about Kusuriuri's design). But Hyper, from that very small glimpse we caught of him, looks more mundane than the original. I think it's the combination of his black hair and his markings being red instead of gold. I wonder what the rest of him will look like.... It was interesting to me that his face is drawn differently from Kusuriuri. In the TV anime, they have the same face shape and features, but their hair and coloring is different. And OG Hyper had a slightly different version of Kusuriuri's clothes. We can't see this new Hyper's clothes, but his face is more square looking. He looks like a different person... interesting lore implications.

Okay, I really must stop there.

[ladykailitha]

The Magic of Christmas Part 1/8

Here it is, guys! My first Christmas steddie story. It was a blast to write even though sometimes it was struggle to get words down being so close to the holidays.

Summary: Steve doesn't play D&D, not really. But he's been a fan of Eddie Munson's artwork for Wizards of the Coast for years. So after he inherits the business from his dad, he decides the best use of all his dad's money is spend it on a five piece painting for the Party of their characters fighting a purple dragon. So he hires Eddie to do the work, but because it's so labor intensive, Steve offers to pay all of Eddie's bills plus any expenses he has for the paintings. How is Eddie to say no to that, so he doesn't try. He also doesn't try not falling in love with Steve. Will Steve reject him or will Eddie get a little magic for Christmas?

Words: 17012 CW: none Rating: Teen for swearing mostly Relationships: Steddie, background Buckingham, Jancy, Eden/Argyle, Dustin/Suzie, Lumax, and a surprise later in the story. Mike and El aren't dating in this, but neither is Mike and Will. They're single.

Also, Steve comes off as mildly autistic in this. He's based on a lot of my own experiences, so I hope this doesn't scare you off.

Essentially this is Eddie falls first, Steve falls harder over the course of six months. June and July aren't strictly mentioned, but you know it's happening during those two months.

***

Eddie walked into the high rise office building feeling a little out of place. All right, maybe a lot of place, if he was being honest with himself.

Here he was in a faded leather jacket and ripped black jeans in an actual fucking glass elevator to the top floor.

The doors opened up to warm outer office. It was dark woods and deep reds and golds. He had been expecting it to look like the rest of the building. He skipped forward to the woman at the desk a little unsure if he was in the right place.

“Hey, um...” he began, tilting his head. “I think I might be in the wrong place. But I’m Eddie Munson and I have a two o’clock appointment with Steve Harrington?”

She blinked up at him in shock. “This is Steve Harrington’s office, let me look at the schedule. I vaguely remember him making sure I didn’t schedule anything for this time.”

Eddie handed her the card that had Steve’s name on the front and the date and time on the back. She took it from him and nodded. He bit his lip nervously as she fiddled with something on her computer.

“All right,” she said, “I do see that he has an hour of time blocked off, but let me call him.”

Eddie nodded.

“Steve,” she said into the receiver. “I have an Eddie Munson here for you.”

“He’s here?” Eddie could hear the excitement in the person’s voice. “Send him in!”

She smiled. “Will do.” She hung up the phone. “Looks you’re good to go.”

Eddie smiled back. “Thanks.” He leaned over the desk for a moment. “I’m guessing you don’t know what this is about anymore than I do.”

She shook his head. “Nope. But he sounds excited to see you so you should really do that.”

He nodded back and skipped over to the door where it swung open as he reached it. He turned back to her. “Neat trick.”

She grinned back.

Eddie walked through the door and found that the inner office was very much the same as the outer one. All warm and cozy. And...well. Friendly.

Behind the desk leaping to his feet to greet him was the most gorgeous human Eddie had ever laid eyes on. He had floppy dark golden hair with hazel eyes behind neat glasses. His smile was easy and infectious.

“Eddie!” the Greek Adonis in a smartly tailored suit said brightly, sticking his hand out to him. “I’m so glad you came. When I spoke to your agent I got the impression you don’t usually do commissions.”

He half shrugged taking the outstretched hand and shaking it. “It’s been a slow year and I don’t taking the odd commission when it intrigues me.”

Steve blushed. “I intrigued the great Eddie Munson, I’m flattered.”

Eddie raised both eyebrows. “I didn’t realize you were a fan of my work.”

Steve nodded eagerly. “Oh hell yeah. I managed to get a picture of that lovely mural you did to cover the gang signs in the neighborhood before the cops destroyed it.”

Eddie blinked. Well fuck. He didn’t realize anyone had known that was him.

“You didn’t tell the cops it was me, did you?”

Steve laughed, clear and bright. He sat down and gestured for Eddie to do the same. “Rule number one. Don’t tell cops shit.”

Eddie sat down with a thud. “That’s good to know.”

Steve grinned wickedly at him and pulled out a picture of the mural from his desk drawer. He handed it to Eddie for him to look at.

“Usually it’s on my desk,” Steve said. “But I didn’t want to come across as too much of a fan boy right away.”

Eddie ran his fingers over the glass. It was of a pack of wolves howling at the moon rising over a tall mountain range.

“It’s nice to see that it’ll be remembered in some small way,” he murmured.

“I’ve got an photographer friend who can make a copy for you if you’d like,” Steve said softly.

Eddie’s head shot up. “You’d do that?”

This time it was Steve that gave a little half shrug. “I mean I can tell it was important to you so...”

He grinned. “Thanks, man. So what’s this commission you’re wanting me to do?”

Steve blushed again. “Do you still do illustrations for Wizard of the Coast?”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. That’s where Steve knew his art from, fucking D&D? This day couldn’t get any weirder.

He cleared his throat. “Like, sometimes. Right now I’m not happy with them for trying to take the game away from little homebrew gamers like me and my friends. But yeah, beggars can’t be choosers.”

Steve nodded. “God, I wish we could go back to the days were stupid rich people would hire poor artists to paint for them for a year or whatever. Free paint, free room and board.”

“Lack of freedom of expression though,” Eddie laughed.

Steve laughed with him. “Not if you’re sleeping with the mistress of the house.”

Eddie laughed harder. “Sorry, I’d be more likely to be sleeping with the master than the mistress.”

Steve smiled with a little shrug. “I’d probably end up doing both if they were hot enough.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. All right, noted. “Though I suppose in the scenario you’d be the master, so you’d be sleeping with the artist and the mistress.”

Steve grinned. “Well that’s certainly true.”

Eddie needed to get this meeting to move on before he leapt over the desk to fuck this gorgeous man senseless. “You want to be paint something in my D&D style?”

Steve lit up and Eddie had bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying something stupid like how hot he found that look on Steve’s face.

“Yeah, I have these...” he said, “well they aren’t kids anymore. But they were when I first met them. They’re really big into D&D. In fact Dustin, the one I’m closest to is the one that got me into your art. They were so well done in the books and then found out you had a website and well...” he blushed. “I really liked the fantasy stuff.”

Eddie smirked. He knew exactly what Steve was talking about. There was a section on his website where you had to put in your credit card information to even view it. Did he know that kids stole their parents’ credit cards to view that part of his site? Sure. But at least it made sure most of the time that the viewer was over the age of eighteen.

There was more to fantasy then elves or dragons. Eddie smiled.

“Did you now?”

Steve blushed deeper. “Not that I want you to do that for this!” he said waving his hands. “They maybe adults now, I’m not that insane! But they have these characters that they’ve had since they were twelve and I was hoping you could paint them fighting a dragon. Especially a purple dragon. Because they are so cool.”

Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. “What were you thinking in terms of size?”

Steve pulled out another picture and slid it over to Eddie. Eddie picked it up and looked at it. It was one of those wall paintings that were split into separate pieces but if put together it would form a cohesive picture.

“I was thinking 10x18 for the side pieces and 18x24 for the middle piece which would have the dragon,” Steve explained.

“And each of the side pieces would have a different character?”

Steve nodded. “I was wanting it by Christmas, would that give you enough time to do it?”

Eddie sat back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I’m mean, I guess. A month for each of the smaller ones and two months for the larger piece. It’s doable. If it’s the only thing I work on for the next six months. So I would require at least half the payment up front.”

Steve nodded and pulled out a piece of paper from a leather folio on his desk and handed it over to him.

Eddie started reading and was about half way down when he realized it was a contract. He usually had his own contract to give clients, especially for projects this big. But looking over Steve’s contract, not only was it better worded, it was a lot better offer for Eddie.

“Do you mind if I take this and show my agent before sign?” he asked.

Steve smiled. “No, of course not. Be my guest. In fact, I insist.”

Eddie relaxed. “Thanks!”

Steve ducked his head bashfully. “I really hope you’ll do it. You’re my favorite artist. Dusty’s too.”

Hoo-boy did Eddie know that look. It was the look of someone who was used to being shut down for their interests because they got too excited talking about it.

It was starting to look like regardless of what Chrissy thought about contract, he was going to do it. Because fuck, no one should have to feel like they were too much.

He stood up and shook his hand. “Is the end of the week okay?”

Steve’s head jerked up in shock. “What?”

“For the contract?” Eddie said, holding up the piece of paper.

“Oh!” Steve murmured. “Yeah. That’ll be a fine.”

Eddie got up and shook Steve’s hand. He walked to the door, but paused at the doorway. He turned back and tilted his head down and around. “You don’t have to limit yourself with me, okay? You can be yourself with me.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “What? I don’t know what you mean...”

“The look on your face when you were talking about me being your favorite artist,” Eddie explained. “It’s something I see all the time with my friends and even myself. You close yourself off because you think you’re going to be shut down and told to shut up or at the very least dial it back. And I’m saying you don’t have to. Not with me.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head again. “You just want to me flatter the hell out of you.”

Eddie laughed. “I won’t deny that flattering works on me. But I mean it, okay? Don’t limit yourself. The people that mind don’t matter and those that matter won’t mind.”

Steve smiled. “Dr. Seuss. I’ll try to remember that.”

“See that you do,” Eddie said with a laugh. He tapped his hand on the door frame and then walked away.

He was almost to the elevator when the secretary said, “I heard what you said just now. About him not needing to hold back with you. Thank you.”

Eddie paused in his step. He whirled around and then skipped up to the desk. “You don’t need to thank me for that. He deserves to gush about the things he loves.”

“His parents would shut him up every time he would gush about anything,” she said. “Even sports. Which you would think would be the one thing that a boy should gush about, but nope.”

Eddie nodded. “Bastards.” He cocked his head to the side. “You are more than just his secretary aren’t you?”

She laughed. “Best friend and soulmate, Robin Buckley.” She stuck out her hand.

Eddie shook it with a wide smile. “Please to meet you. I’m guessing you’re president of the Steve Harrington Appreciation Society. Where can one sign up?”

Robin laughed. “Signing that contract will do the job I think.” She jutted her chin up at the paper in his hand.

He shrugged. “I got have my agent look at it before I sign anything. She’d murder me otherwise.”

“Fair.”

“See you around, Birdie,” Eddie said with a salute.

She frowned. “Birdie?”

He made a bird with his hands or at least tried with the contract in his hand. “Robin. Bird. Birdie.”

“Oh god,” she sighed. “You’re one of those.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Yup!” He skipped into elevator and pressed the button to the ground floor. He waved as the elevator lowered him down.

***

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

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[slightlyhopefulromantic]

i was gonna wait until i finished the bitd and deadlands line-ups before posting these, but i'm not gonna get those done before the final season starts, so might as well bite the bullet now XD woohoo, oxventure d&d designs! i'll go into further detail below the cut for all of my thoughts on these designs and reasoning for smaller details, but for now, just know that i will never draw a cape. i simply cannot do it. hoods and weird draped fabric or nothing XD

okay i put like. waaay too many thoughts into a lot of these small details so im gonna allow myself to geek out here X3 firstly - though they're way too small to read properly, i did the little symbol eye shines i used in my first art for them! dob gets music notes, prudence gets fire, corazón gets hearts, and merilwen gets flowers. i usually draw egbert's pupils pretty thin to resemble a reptile, so he just gets normal eye shines, but i probably could have given him some here... he would get suns if i thought of that

dob - muscular in a wiry and dehydrated way, lol, hence having a more defined stomach/hips despite not being as strong as prudence or egbert. he has sad/down-turned puppy dog eyes at all times because i think the big-eyed endearing look is fitting for him, though i do make them darker blue than his canonical baby blues because i just... like how dark blue eyes look, lol. i'm pretty sure he canonically has the stomach scar, and obviously his facial scar has always been there, but i gave him a couple other ones just to show that hes pretty reckless. and he gets freckles because even though they arent mentioned in the dragon dogma's video, i noticed luke added some and. i like freckles a lot

prudence - i've said this before, but i love the thought of pru getting muscular after the werebear bite <3 i just think she should be a little bit hench. as a treat. once again, the heavy stomach scarring comes from the dragon dogma's video, because i found their design choices in that really fun. i change prudence's outfit the most out of any of the characters, just because her canonical outfit confuses me. i'm really bad at understanding/drawing fantasy wear as is, but her fit... i'm lost entirely XD so i free-balled a bit. her inner sleeves that hook around her fingers are based on jane's various prudence looks, and then the looser outer sleeve is just because i love prudence with a dramatic sleeve. originally the colors were closer to her canon outfit, but it just looked messy without all the details of the original, and then i tried red like jane's prudence looks but it didn't contrast enough with her skin. so i restricted them to just deep purples and black with pops of gold and dark magenta!

corazón - what can i say besides. transgender. LMAO honestly though, besides adding the top surgery scars, i just really like his canon look. i simplified the details, obviously, but i really love his big coat and his tall boots and the earrings and the black-on-black-on-black of it all. i didn't particularly feel like drawing hats when i was doing this, lol, so i stuck with a red bandana instead. the beads that are strung from it are black, red, purple, green, and yellow to match their guild's canonical color associations/the colored name plates they get in later seasons :] because corazón is the sentimental sort, even when he won't say it. also he gets a little cateye for his eyeliner, i dunno if i've ever said why i do that before haha

egbert - egbert my dearly beloved. literally just his canon look except he has la vache mauve on his tunic instead of fire! and the nose spikes i give him, i guess, but i forget those aren't canon. i actually usually draw him in mike's egbert get up, with the black robes and the golden dragon sigil, but i kinda wanted to move away from that to lean more into the end of legacy of dragons, where egbert fully commits to never going back to the dragon d'or. also i just love drawing little cow heads <3 also! i like the idea that rather than typical scar tissue, dragonborns grow thicker scales over places where they've been injured. so the thicker patches of small scales on egbert's body are meant to be scars! including his kidney scar, lol. the larger scales and the ones on his face were always there though, that's just dragonborn biology baby

merilwen - if i said i based merilwen's body on cartoon bears, would you forgive me... i just think it's cute LOL tummy <3 for the final dragon dogma's video reference, that's where her freckles and tattoos come from. ellen was right, merilwen with floral tattoos fucking rules. who am i to deny it. as a hairy woman myself, i also like making merilwen a hairy woman. she's a hippie, she would NOT shave. i also really love the red earrings she wears in her canon art, so i tried to carry that through to some other small parts of my drawing for her, and landed on the bands she has on her pants as well as the odd feather for her arrows. fun archery fact, for those who may not know - in modern archery at least, you usually will have a differently colored feather (or for my arrows, rubber fins lol) that indicate how youre meant to string the arrow! so i took advantage of that to give merilwen some more red, hehe

[oceansssblue]

[THE BAD BATCH]— "CANVAS"

ECHO/OFC 💖

OMEGA HAS THE BEST IDEA. SHE HAS BEEN EYING THE ARTIST ACROSS CID'S SALON FOR OVER A WEEK NOW; AND SHE'S FINALLY GOING TO ORDER THE BEST PRESENT EVER FOR ECHO.

WARNINGS: FLEETING MENTIONS OF ECHO'S BODY ISSUES&EXPERIENCE (NOTHING EXPLICIT). 99% FLUFF.

ONE-SHOT INSPIRED BY THIS WONDERFUL @cloned-eyes ART PIECE OF TATTOED ECHO! 💙✨

Omega counts the credits in her hands. She has been saving them for months, now; no more unnecessary mantel mix or cool accesories for her bow even if they make her momentarily happy. She's sure Echo's reaction will top all of that; and she has finally collected enough to buy the present she has being eying since she discovered the small tattoo parlour across Cid's salon. It's a cool place; full of bright neon lights and colourful images and shapes painted all over the walls. She has never actually entered the parlour; but she has seen enough through the displays of the window. She wasn't actively looking for a place like that at all, to start with; but once discovered, Omega couldn't think about anything else.

It's not just tattoos that the artist makes; but she draws and paints on every single surface imaginable too. Omega has seen a long line of clients bringing her all sort of pieces for her to decorate, to give some life to; house accesories, jewelry, books, speeders... Everything is a canvas for her. Omega's favourite one was probably a landscape design painted in a beautiful modern style on the back of a datapad.

She's got talent, the young woman that works with his collague in the shop. While she does the main art, her co-worker seems to take care of supplies and management. He helps with purely ink-on-skin jobs too. They're both not human, though they're not too far off anatomically speaking. They're definitely on the humanoid range; just small variations to their features and a whole different set of colour palette. Omega wonders if they came to Ord Mantell together from their native planet or if their encounter here was a mere coincidence. She's always curious; even about strangers that have nothing to do with her.

Their skin has a natural faint purplish tint, and they have big eyes with a pronounced double circled iris –the inner layer a darker lilac colour, the outer one a vibrant gold– and washed-out white marks on their neck and face. She has short purple hair, barely grazing her chin, and always wears six or more small braids that sometimes join together in beautiful ways. A bunch of earings hang of each of her slightly pointed ears; and tattoos roam all over her arms and the sides of her neck. She has two small ones on one cheek as well; black figures and dots Omega's not sure if they hold meaning or not. His co-worker looks and dresses in a similar way; comfortable cargo pants with military-like boots, a red T-shirt and black vest. They both look so cool Omega hasn't grown tired of staring at them yet.

The young teenager half skips happily to the parlour; a replica of Echo's prosthetics inside the bag hanging heavily on her shoulder. She had asked Tech to build them a week and a half ago; explaining her idea to the goggled clone and inmediately achieving his aproval. Tech had told her it was a very considerate and original gift. He had jumped at the challenge of building a copy of Echo's three main prosthetics –his scomp, and both of his cybernetic legs– in record time and without any of the others noticing it. Well, except Hunter, who had obviously heard his quiet screwing in the middle of the night and had quickly been informed of the plan.

Omega radiated energy when she opened the door to the parlour. Her big eyes quickly found their way to the artist that would make her idea come true, and she walked towards the front desk with a spring to her step.

"Hi! I love your work, and I'd like you to draw a bunch of stuff for me, please" she blurted out, her enthusiastic innocent voice inmediately catching the attention of the humanoid.

The artist tilted her head to the side, examining the young girl up and down. The new comer looked to be around thirteen or so; a shock of beautiful blond hair complementing her tanned skin. Her purplish-golden eyes sparkled with curiosity and humour.

"You're a bit young to get your skin inked, kid" she answered with a small chuckle. "Luckyly for you I don't really have an age minimum 'round here. Don't come crying next week when you change your mind, though. Erasing is always a torture, and a loss of my time. You sure?"

Omega's eyes widenned comically. She laughed while shaking her head vigorously to the sides, one hand coming up in a clear sign of rejection.

"Oh, no! No. I don't want to get a tattoo!" she frowned, the posibility passing through her head a second later before she nochalantly shrugged it away. "At least not now. I actually brought you some pieces for you to customize? Like you did with some of your other clients?"

The woman chuckles at Omega's lively personality. She points at the heavy bag hanging of her shoulder.

"I'm assuming they're in there?" She guesses, and Omega quickly nods and carefully places the bag in the floor, opening it up for the artist to see.

The woman crouches down and curiously peers into it. She frowns in confussion, and one hand cautiously hovers over one of the pieces while she tries to make the shape of the pile of cramped metal in her head. She realises what the girl is carrying and tilts her head up to her with clear surprise in her face.

"Are these prosthetics?"

Omega nod's proudly.

"Yeah! My brother Tech managed to make an extra improved pair for Echo –he's my other brother– in no time and I wanted you to decorate them before I give them to him. He's had his own for a while now, but I know he's not fully comfortable with them yet, even if he tries not to show it. So I thought personalizing them a bit would make him feel like they're more him, you know?"

Omega waits for the womans aproval. Tech said it was a good idea, so it must be, right? Anyhow, she kinda wants the opinion of the artist herself too. She makes a living of this; of giving soul and personality to pieces that form a part of others lifes.

To her relief, the woman seems gladly surprised. She slowly takes out one of the leg prosthetics and turns it carefully in her hand, examining the surface and caressing it here and there in an almost distracted way.

"It sounds like a cool idea, kid" she hesitates, not wanting to be the one to break the young girl's heart. "But customizing such large complex pieces is pretty expensive, specially if you want to add specific details yourself. Do you have the money?"

Omega nods proudly and takes the credits out of her pocket. She shows them to her with a smile.

"Yup! I have been saving for weeks now. It's enough, right?"

Omega sees the expression on the artist face fall, and her eyes widen. She looks back and forth between the credits on her hands and the artist; knowing what's going on.

"Is it that much more expensive?" She asks, worried, nibbling on her lower lip, trying to think of a solution to it. "I-maybe I can ask Tech and Hunter for more, uh maybe Wrecker, or I can sell some stuff around and..."

The artist interrumpts her rumbling with a hand on her shoulder, standing up besides her.

"Look, sweetheart... I can't use all my current materials in this pieces for this price, but I must have some old stock somewhere in the back. Outdated stuff is much cheaper, and we can forget about my personal fee as well, so you won't have to pay the extra. Or my time of work. Just the pure old raw materials, that should cut the price drastically" she eyes her expectant expression and the hope in her big eyes and sighs, pulling up a smile. "You can give me what you want and we'll call it a deal, alright?"

"Really?" the blonde nearly squeals, knees bouncing up and down, and the artist's smile widens.

"Yeah. Take the pieces to the front desk and lay them out. Do you have a clear idea of what you want to do with them?"

Omega quickly follows and she inmediately grabs her datapad –one of Tech's old ones– and starts pulling up photos and ideas of designs she had been investigating these last few days. She turns the datapad to the woman and grins.

"I've got loads!"

The artist smiles in amusement and pats the chair next to her. Omega hops on it and tilts her face to her, expectantly. The humanoid nods and points at the datapad with a vague gesture.

"Okay. Let's hear it, then".

(•••)

Viana didn't make a habit of being underpayed. Every inch of the fee for her job was perfectly detailed and taken into consideration; materials, time, number of details, backgrounds, how large was the piece, if it required a special varnish to seal the art, colours, layers... It wasn't the same customizing a watch with barely more than the first letter of someone's name than to decorate someone's speeder; so her prices really varied depending on each request.

The girl's –Omega, she had after learned– story had moved her enough to do a little favor for her. Just an exception to her usual strict rules. The blonde had showed her several images on her datapad –pointing out his brother Tech had runned a check up on her and decided she could be trusted with said information– and the woman had quickly put two plus two together. Those guys were clones, and not the ones that followed the laws of the Empire. These were guys that still remember what was honour, respect, doing the right thing. Viana still remembered how Rak and her had been able to escape their home planet with their help.

Truth is the saasra has always admired them. They were great soldiers, great men; and she had come from a tribe of warriors herself. She had long left those years behind; but she still payed attention to the same things. Plus, Echo's particular story was something else. Omega hadn't really gotten into details; just quickly passing of a coment on how he had been gravely injured in battle and how his body looked like now. Viana had read into the images shown before said change; the proud posture of the ARC trooper surrounded by his brothers and friends. She couldn't imagine what he had been forced to push through; not only accepting his own new body, but coping with the loss of so many dear people too.

She hand't been able to think on anything else after Omega left her workshop. The feeling of a new exciting project surged within her, ideas and splashes of colours and shapes constantly popping in her mind. Viana knew she wouldn't be able to sleep that night unless she started with this unusual project; so she had begun with the initial designs.

She always follows the same process. She draws a lazy sketch; absolutely everything she thinks could go well with the piece. Then she picks them out; re-doing them in better shapes and lines on a new datapad canvas. Once that is done, she meassures the original piece and replicates the dimensions on her app; moving her figures and details and overlapping them in layers so everything is taken to it's destined spot. She plays with colours and details –nothing too specific– in her datapad too; and then she moves onto the real piece. She draws the final selected sketch on it and then it's all a matter of colours and definition; swirls and micro-details. It's her favourite part; watching her ideas finally take life. Making dull pieces stand out.

Three days after Omega's arrival on her parlour, Viana has already drawn the main sketches out. She wanted to personalize everything to the detail, like Omega had requested; every inch of the former soldier's cybernetics was perfectly planned out. Though Omega would probably like something vibrant and jazzy best, the saasra knew it had to be something discreet enough so it wouldn't interfere with Echo's posible future misions. Viana didn't exactly knew what they did for a living, or what the future held for them; but she could get an idea. Times were difficult now, dangerous. She couldn't make the prosthetics striking enough to catch people's attention. It had to be somewhat subtle.

With that main reason in mind, she had designed a background of greys, blacks and reds for all of the three pieces in her hands. The lines parted separetly on the top of the scomp prosthetic before travelling down and crossing each other and swirling at the end; joining together in a splash of dark red. The same went for the legs; full opalascent black for were the top part attached to real skin and slowly switching to a gradient grey as they went down to the feet. Small streaks of dark red also swirled around each other as they went; almost following the shapes of human muscles in soft and precises curves. Not wanting them to look too perfectly made –he was a soldier, after all, not an inmaculate coruscanti model– she added some groundge details too; smearing some black and grey paint together here and there without any particular shape, and with her metalic sharp brushes, simulating scratches and dips on the surface.

Once that was out of the way –she had chosen those reds, greys and blacks to match the rest of the clone's armour by Omega's pictures– she followed with the small details. Viana had given it much thought. She wanted the prosthetics to really feel part of Echo, as Omega had in mind too. She wanted to give him something with which he could feel like himself. That right after he tried them on, he'd feel more confident and reassured. And not just because it was a –poorly– payed comissioned job.

Viana decided on a mix of what seemed to be the clone's most important aspects of his life. Omega had more or less explained parts of his life to her, so she could understand what to work with. Viana knew she needed to include five main pieces of Echo's life in these; the Jedi, Clone Force 99 –Omega's brothers, herself included now–, Captain Rex, the Domino Squad, and his twin Fives.

For the Jedi, Viana drew tiny light-sabers on the edges of each prothesis that at first glance looked like a line of simple stiches. She couldn't plant something on the surfaced that screamed "hey, Empire, right here, i'm your enemy" after all, so it was an unasumming little thing. No-one would find out unless they specifically looked for it. Hell, Echo might not even realise it himself.

For Clone Force 99, she designs four washed-out white skulls to compliment the one already etched on the top left of his chest plate. She adds a very carefully hand-drawn detail for each one, so it represents the rest of the members of the squad; one skull crossed by a delicate black bow, another with a stripe across the head for the long-haired clone's bandana, one with the crosshair on the right eye and the last one with a myriad of scars coming from the left side of the skull and ending on the left.

She adds a splash of a hand print for Captain Rex around the prothesis holding the scomp. The blue sticks up too much with the rest of the colour pattern, though, even if its a dark shade with some black in between; so Viana adds some minor swirls and slashes of the same tone here and there.

Following Omega's idea, she draws five small domino's in black and grey around one of the cybernetic's ankles; tying them up to each other with a thin line of scarlet red. A black five is a perfect replica of one of Omega's pictures on the other ankle; red and greys and blues swirling around the number as if trying to cling to it.

Viana gives a few extra last touches and examines the three pieces in front of her. Satisfied and proud, she gives them a final varnish so they hold all kind of atmospheric adversities; and two weeks after Omega's request, the woman has her art ready to be send on it's way.

(•••)

Viana makes her way to where Omega told her their ship would be docked with her request carefully placed inside a box with the parlour's purple logo. It's heavy, but not as much as she first imagine the prothesis would be; she's able to carry them without much effort til she's standing right in front of the Marauder –Omega's home–.

She examines the external appearence of the ship with intrigue. Omega's a bubbly thing, and she couldn't stop talking in excitement when she visited her workplace. Viana had half-listened distractedly while she pulled out basic designs and drew quick sketches for the blonde to sway in one direction or the other. By the way her eyes filled with warmth and her smile widened while talking of this ship, the saarsa knew it wasn't just a ship for them at all.

There's two men standing on the outside, one crouched down while examining something with a pack of wrenchers and tools by his side; the other observing with his arms crossed. After spending a few hours of the last two weeks staring at Omega's pics, they're easily recognizable; the one with the long hair and red bandana is obviously Hunter, while the one doing the repairs is Tech. She can't see the other two –Wrecker and Echo himself– so she asumes they're either inside or somewhere else in Ord Mantell.

Hunter's eyes flicker around his surroudings before they land on her. It's like he noticed someone staring; she wondered if she had been doing that with too much intensity. To show she's not a threat –this guy is clearly ready and alert– she shows a small gentle smile and hesitantly takes a step towards them.

"Can we help you?" Hunter asks, frowning unconsciously, his stance widening slightly while turning towards her.

Tech glances up and his eyes quickly roams over the newcomer's appearance, quickly drawing the right conclusions by the expresion on his face.

"Oh! You must be the artist from Omega's most recent quest" he nods as a way of hello, standing up and adjusting the right lense of his goggles before continuing talking with her. "I asume that you bring the final results?"

Viana nods and brings the box in her hands up as a demonstration. Hunter relaxes and Tech nods, curiously walking towards her.

"May I have a look?"

They're really polite, and really handsome too. Most clones are, of course. It's no wonder people used to like going to clone's pubs before.

"Sure" Viana answers, her mere observation not making her shy away in the slightest.

She patiently waits while Tech lifts the lid of the box up and takes a peak inside. Hunter can't hold back his curiosity either and follows him. They both stay silent for so long that Viana starts to feel a bit nervous and hesitant about her work.

"Is it... Is it what Omega hoped for?"

She's usually very confident about herself; but Echo's situation is delicate, and the details she has added in the cybernetics, albeit by Omega's request, are too personal for a stranger to play with. She hopes she hasn't overstepped.

"It exceeds my expectations, in fact" points out Tech, to her inmediate relief. "And I am sure Omega's as well. I'm particularly surprised at how detailed and lively this are without drawing too much attention to it, nothing too vibrant or extravagant. It should work perfectly well with our kind of lifestyle. Congratulations are in order, I believe".

Tech has a weird way of speaking; Viana's lips almost tugging upwards in another smile. She feels proud and happy at his observarions, though; and Hunter thinks the same as well by his firm grateful nod.

"Thank you for doing this" the latest says, his voice slightly rougher than the average clone but equally gentle. "I know for a fact Omega doesn't have enough credits to pay for this. She can be very persuasive, I should know. We can pay you a bit extra ourselves".

The offer is tempting, and Viana has spent a lof of her free time doing this; but she wouldn't feel good if she took the credits in. She feels this project has been made personal –there's always one of those once in a while– and she just feels lucky and proud to have produced such an important piece. It's obvious these guys don't have much themselves considering they don't even have a proper house; and she's sure they've already been through a lot. A bit of generosity and genuine compassion wouldn't hurt them.

"Save it for your family" she answers, then. "It has been a fun experience for me. Plus, I'm glad I'm able to do something for you lot".

Hunter watches her in surprise. They're different enough from the original clone templates that people don't usually associate them with clones, specially with a kid by their side; furthermore, they don't usually find people grateful for their service anymore.

Viana smiles.

"I'm native from Saar" she explains, and Hunter inmediately recognises the planet's name. "I remember".

A heavy silence falls between the three of them. Saar was completely destroyed by the Separatists back then; the army of warriors ruled by King Jarelan refusing to lay down their weapons after their monarch's death. They had called for the Republic's help; and two battalions of clones had been sent to them. They hand't been enough to save the planet form the separatist wrath; but they had saved uncountable lives, and the saarsa's had been able to relocate in another planet with the help of the Senate.

In that moment, someone walks down the Marauder towards them. Viana's attention is quickly snapped to the new presence; inmediately recognising the soldier in front of her. He frowns in confussion at the stranger talking with his brothers; but Echo quickly asumes she's just another woman swayed by Hunter's –or maybe Tech's– appeal and doesn't pay her too much attention while he turns to him.

"Hey, Sarge, I'm gonna go replenish our suplies now" he notifies, feeling a bit restless under the stranger's attentive purple and gold eyes. "Com's open, if you need something. Be back in a few".

Hunter nods, gives a small worded agreement and Echo's eyes glance one last time at the woman before walking away. Viana is sure he has some body issues like Omega explained; but right now he looks so confident and handsome –every bit of the perfect soldier– that the saarsa can't help but feel intrigued and attracted to him.

"Always this interested in your clients?" Hunter quietly asks, amused.

Viana tears his eyes from Echo's retreating figure and laughs.

"Not usually, no" she answers calmly, unashamed of being caught by them. "But you can learn a lot about a person from customising their things. And I had a lot of pics and details from him from that blonde girl of yours."

"So you are interested in him, then?" Tech pops in, and Viana shrugs while a telling smile makes her way on her face.

"He's hot, isn't he?" she places the box in Tech's hands, and decides it's time to return to her shop. "Tell Omega I said hi."

Hunter hums thoughtfully while watching her leave.

(•••)

Echo makes his way to the tattoo parlour with a mess of emotions twirling inside his mind. He couldn't even describe what he first felt when he opened Omega's present and his eyes landed on a new customized set of prosthetics; couldn't explain how it felt trying them on. Every swirl of paint, every line and detail... It was all him, the batch's reds and greys and Legion's 501 blue's; the brave people he had sworn to serve and his two families etched on his second skin now, both Force Clone 99 with each of their distinctives, and his Domino brothers. And Fives. Oh, Fives. He would have thought his prosthetics to be the coolest shit ever if he had been there to see him.

Echo had always had a tough time getting used to his cybernetics. He had been forced to accept them pretty quickly, mind you –inmediately jumping back to the fight in Anaxes and after that–; but there had always been a residual disgust and sense of inedequancy in the silence of his mind, after all was set and done. Suddenly half droid, it had been difficult to adjust; even if his new abilities were actually valuable to the team now. This prosthetics, on the other hand... They carried so much meaning. They hold little parts of his story, of his people; and he had felt inmediately conected to them. Echo opened the doors of the shop with a mess on his mind but feeling confident in his steps like never before.

His eyes inmediately found the stranger from the day before and he aproached her in contemplative silence. She was working on something, eyes stuck to her datapad and one of those tech-pencils on her right hand; brow furrowed and lips pursed in concentration.

"We're not taking any more clients for today" she barely mumbled, without taking a glance at the newcomer. "Come back tomorrow, please".

Echo studied her. She resembled a human, but she was undeniably different; her skin a faint purple and her eyes shining brightly even when pointed down at her datapad. His eyes wondered over each mark on her face.

"I just wanted to personally thank you" he voiced, patiently. "You did a great job with these".

She took a fleeting glance at him, nodding distractedly; inmediately abandoning her current sketch when she recognised who he was and straightening in her chair.

"Echo!" she exclaimed, surprised. He gave her a small nod and smile, and tried to stay still while her bright eyes roamed over him.

She hummed appreciately and showed him a wonderfull grin.

"You make a good-looking canvas, soldier".

Echo chuckles, left hand shyly travelling to the back of his neck, and pulls a smile as well.

Gathering up his courage, he tilts his head.

"Fancy going out for a drink, now that your closing the shop?"

Viana is momentarily stunned; but she melts and quickly nods, eager. Hunter and Tech must have pointed out her interest to him; but she doesn't really care. Echo is hot –undeniably so wearing her work–and she hasn't got any other plans for tonight.

"Give me five to close this up and we'll go" she asks.

Echo is surprised –and at the same time, relieved– at how easily all of this is; and waits patiently for Viana to finish her sketch and lock the doors. They walk to none other than Cid's salon chatting with each other and stealing glances along the way.

Maybe he can have some luck after all.

THE END.

---------------------

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

DAMN, THAT WAS A LONG ONE! I FELT SO INSPIREEEED. I'M HAPPY WITH WHAT CAME OUT. DID YOU LIKE IT TOO? LET ME KNOW! HELPS ME STAY MOTIVATED TO CONTINUE WRITING : )

REBLOG IF YOU CAN!

REQUEST/PROMPTS OPENED. WHAT WOULD U LIKE TO READ NEXT?

MORE CLONE WARS & ARCANE CONTENT COMING!

Xx,

Sky.

[utmvarchive]

Underfresh: a summary.

There is a difference in epidemiology between a virus and a parasite, but not in software engineering. And it... it was Error!Geno who first called him a virus: a parasitic entity called... Fresh.

Called such for the persona they choose to adopt, symptoms in affected hosts include the adoption of slang and fashion from a subculture of the 1990s, real-time censorship of profanity or drug mention within earshot, and the use of furbies as bombs.

The parasite infects a host's body, usually a skeleton's... for the same reason as in ATs wherein Flowey possesses Sans or Papyrus. Simply put... their bodies are easier for something small and tendriled to occupy. So, similarly, Fresh's... main body... will take residency inside the skull. Which is why the SOUL of an infected host can be seen through the eyesocket on the right. This is often the placement of one of Fresh's bodies, mouth facing out the occupied socket. The SOUL inside this mouth will appear more and more fractured the longer Fresh stays in the same host, because the possessed SOUL is being slowly digested.

Fresh usually hides this from view with a set of shades that display letters alternating between cyan and yellow, spelling "YOLO" or other short expressions, but a fiery purple aura may still leak past them as a threat display.

There is also a limit to what characteristic they'll adopt from SOULS even after total consumption. They will use their host's pronouns even after they are found out, more often than not he/him, but he is still agender. His emotional range will broaden the longer he stays in the same host, but the colorful persona he presents is still a facade he puts on either to unsettle people for his own amusement or to lower their guard. His true personality is still conceited, cold and calculating. He is capable of developing attachments, but has an aversion to vulnerability and is accustomed to viewing compassion and relationships as exploitable assets. His top priority is self-preservation, and to this end, he avoids opening himself to remorse for what he does to survive.

I could simply ask for all the answers. But it has been recommended that I continue to engage in field research.

Anyway.

Fresh's main body is like a flat polyp, about the same size as a golden flower, with purple skin and four arms. The mouth is lined with sharp teeth, and inside appears to be a black eye with a yellow outer iris that does not touch the red inner iris. Relative to when this document is drafted, Fresh is the only one of his kind. This could mean one of two possibilities. Either they are the last of their kind, or they are the first.

He is capable of asexual self-replication, the bodies of which vary in color, but he is reluctant to infect more than one host at a time after an incident at an interversal event called Muffet's Love Ball. He had plans to instigate what would have been a "Freshmageddon," an attempt to parasitize as many attendees as possible and spread his infection across the multiverse, apart from guests such as "Pacifrisk" whom he actually bonded with, before a corrupted Flowey would also crash the party. One of the hosts dropped his facade as a Sans to confront Fresh directly from within the Void as a dracotine Gasterblaster, warning him that he was catching the attention of... higher beings. Beings capable of acting as, for lack of a better term, scripting the omniverse itself.

...I believe it is these higher beings for whom, or by whom, the codes were written. Fresh himself has concluded that... these higher beings are the voices Errors are in contact with.

[butterflyinthewell]

Gift for Godzilla day.

Shin Godzilla as a cosmic horror. He became a universe and watches humanity’s hopeless existence as he recreates and snuffs it over and over.

But WHY???

This very short fic is an observation of the world. Godzilla is a vessel and a perspective to tell it through.

Horror is a reflection. If you don’t like what you see, smashing the mirror won’t fix it. You have to figure out how to fix the actual issue or else it’ll continue on and on.

Fic text and ao3 link are under the cut.

Rating: T

They called him Godzilla.

In their terror and fear, they watched him evolve through burning misery. Them, and the radiation they dumped into the sea, sealed their perpetual split-atom fate. The blame lay eternally on them, their ignorance was no excuse. They would suffer.

He grew, and razed, and enveloped, and absorbed, and mutated, and expanded, and swallowed, and devoured, and digested their pitiful, purulent blue ball of a planet in his roiling maelstrom. He pushed onward, rending apart time, space and existence until only he remained, the single tenebrous echo of a wrathful species long ago destroyed.

Inside his void, he recreated it all. They never knew. Ignorant filth.

The minuscule fools thought the universe was over thirteen billion years old. And they were right from their perspective.

They were wrong about their macabre existence. Silly little things, really, they got lost in their collective occhiolism and never looked past it. What more should he expect from unthinking microbes?

Many called out to the deities they worshiped over the eons. Maybe those deities existed somewhere.

Godzilla waited to meet them, to fight them, and so far none challenged him. Perhaps they feared what he would become to devour them, too.

He manifested his physical form when their atomic age began, he walked across their tiny places of worship and he disrespectfully cut them to scorched atoms. Their screams were prayers he ignored as insignificant. Their sacred blessings counted for nothing.

After the first time, after the trains, and the choking ice, and the agony, he expanded.

He became.

Thirteen billion years held no meaning to him after he became. He was everything. Time, space, matter and energy. They did not know. They did not understand. They did not learn.

It all happened again inside him, inside the void he wore. A downward slope was all he saw, but they, the feeble ones, never could.

Godzilla’s inner sense alerted him of obstacles and incoming threats, and he obliterated them like paper. His lurid cosmic light split the darkness in purple rays. He grasped atoms and divided them until everything ceased to be.

Puny insects, their destruction meant nothing.

He began it again, seeking change, and disappointment blossomed as hypernovae in the airless, black emptiness. Gamma rays tore galaxies apart and life became impossible as hate consumed him. He destroyed it and started another, heedless of what he snuffed out.

They thought the stars were balls of gas contained in galaxies. Quasars blazed along his expanding outer edges as the voids between them swelled. Black holes pin balled through the emptiness. Cosmic radiation sustained him, each source glowing brighter than a billion suns.

The stars were his eyes, looking down in accusation at the blue globe no more significant than dust at the bottom of the sea. Spinning galaxies persecuted the masses of murderous ghouls who refused to recognize him as their all.

He showed them the quasars as a red glow in the crust of his flesh. Let them see the horror, hideousness and meaninglessness of their existence reflected on him. They were insects, pushing through their hopeless, useless lives, killing and maiming each other over religions, and food, and land, and money, and, sometimes, love. Love, twisted into degradation and disgust. Their rage, apathy and loneliness fed him. He spat radiation on them while they spat radiation on each other, a vomitous mass of wrath.

Often, Godzilla reappeared to remind them of who their true master was. He burped up blood in their streets and tore their architecture apart, smirking at the harmonies in their mournful wails.

Their bodies splattered like paste under his feet, his footprints left trails of unrecognizable red mush amid dusty bone powder. He transformed their towering cities into disarrayed rubble until dead flesh and construction materials looked the same.

They never understood, nor remembered, regardless of how many times he collapsed everything and started it anew. It ended the same, every time, with the trains, and the ice, and the silence.

No apologies came. They weren’t sorry. They should have been. Fools.

As the ice spread over him, he closed his sightless eyes under the watchful stars and went inward, where it all began once more. He recreated everything over thirteen billion years until the ice held him still.

And again, and again, and again, further and further inward. These weak, pitiful creatures were terrible learners. He waited for the deities they begged for, waited for an end to atoms themselves.

Such execrable creatures on their blue globe could never conceive of how long or how old anything truly was. They suffered, it was their destiny to suffer endlessly, because they refused to understand every breath they took was willed by him. Sometimes he stopped their breath to watch them die, just because he could. They didn’t matter to him.

He was lost, no one knew, there was no trace of his yearning. They created him, all the agony after falling on their shoulders.

Let them shout. Let them beg. Let them cry. It never reached his uncaring, cold ears.

Godzilla continued imagining inward, another vessel frozen. Perpetually growing, the void within a void, a sempiternal horror.

They did this to him, and they paid eternally. There would be no shaft of light in the darkness forever killing them. No. No salvation, no forgiveness, no relief, ever.

Their suffering was his.

[scngbard]

Raine’s Scar Ref Sheet

Note: The coloration of the scars on the ref are not the actual colors of the scars themself. They’re all simple color coded to better show what is a result of certain events. Post-Finale this will be the default to the extent of Raine’s scars. Another ref sheet is provided at the end of this post that’s to include the scars they would have in a shared au w/ @double-knots​.

Light Blue (Chest) - Top surgery. In all honesty there isn’t too much to say on this scar. The simplest one they had for the longest time. Raine went and got the procedure done the moment they were of age and able to qualify for it.

Red (Right, inner wrist) - While the spell placed upon them and their sigil at the point of their capture by Kikimora had been removed once they were secured within Belos’ castle, the damage had already been done there. As the central source of the spell and its strongest point, there remains a number of branching, somewhat overlapping scars. Even when their coven sigil has been removed, the scar itself is the only evidence it was there to begin with. The main cluster is focused on the inside of their wrist, although some branching scars do reach partion to the backside of their wrist/hand. These outer portions are much thinner and lighter in coloration than the rest of it and often hard to see if not looking closely at the spot.

Green (Cheeks; Right ear lobe’ Upper right arm, shoulder, and part of their upper back; small patch at their left waist) - While Raine had been saved the worst of it due to the Collector having turned them into a puppet prior to Belos’ possession, once the spell had failed and they had been returned to their natural form, they also lost the protection their previously wooden form provided. However, due to the time the spent possessed by him, much of their right arm and shoulder had been affected. It had been the last remaining grip Belos had on them before Raine was able to fully expel him from their body. Additionally, the slow but constant flow of sludge from their eyes left tear streak like scar on their cheeks down to their jaw. Although often hidden from sight, there is small streaks beneath their chin as well where it gathered before dripping off their face.

Purple (Left upper arm, just below elbow) - The last remnant’s of Belos’ attempts to stop Raine in their tracks. Although relatively thin by comparison, it is where Belos had bitten the bard to stop their attempted use of their bardic magic. Although most of the bite had been dampened by the sleeve of their shirt, the remaining scar is where their luck had ran out and their skin had been exposed to his teeth.

TW Self Inflicted Wound/Injury described below. Skip to next image/paragraph.

Orange (Right hand/Knuckles) - A series of relatively small, thin scars scattered across their knuckles and fingers. Some may be a bit longer or thicker, but overall are consider to be small cuts and nicks. The last of their scars received after the defeat of Belos that came from the glass shards of a broken mirror. Once left to examine the extent of the scars left behind by Belos, Raine spirals into a state of shock and distress than quickly snaps into one of anger, disgust, and panic. Overwhelmed by it all and outright distressed by their appearance, Raine lashes out at the mirror, thinking little of the consequence that came with shattering it with their bare hand; resulting in multiple cuts from the glass shards.

Ref Sheet For AU w/ @double-knots​​

While most all of the above details are included within this, the severity of the scars from Belos’ possession is much greater. As, within this AU, Xia manages to convince the Collector to remove the spell from Raine and allow them to stay with Xia instead. The cosmic being’s way of rescuing them as much as she could. However, insistent on saving the rest of the Boiling Isles, Raine is unable to simply stay away for long, sneaking into the Collector’s home to search for a way to help the others. Their timing couldn’t have been worse, though. Arriving not long before Belos, they are possessed as they are by him, resulting in them remaining as his own puppet much longer and resulting in his corruption of them progressing further.

[lampmanliveblogs]

And now here is… this thing. I chose this screenshot because it’s the best full-body shot I could get of it.

So something approached the kids, looking a lot like Belos does in the present, only made from shadows and faint red lights. I was beginning to think that form looked pretty cool, until it started to mutate and turned into this thing.

We saw in Hunting Palismen that Belos has these outbursts where he turns into a bestial, monstrous form. He has trouble controlling himself and will attack anything too close, even lashing out at Hunter. In Elsewhere and Elsewhen we saw that this was (probably) caused in some part by Philip experimenting with magic and tattooing the glyphs onto his arm. Whether this monstrous corruption is caused by his human body not being able to handle the magic power, or his knowledge of magic being incomplete (remember, he had only tattooed the three out of four glyphs that he knew), or something else, we don’t know.

But this… thing is likely the representation of that corruption, of the monster he will turn into if he doesn’t consume palismen. The question is, is this his ”real” inner Belos/Philip? Or is it the child (which tried to warn Hunter to get away)? Or is neither of them, and they are just facets of something bigger?

In Understanding Willow, something kinda similar happened. After Amity set fire to Willow’s memories, the Inner Willow turned into a fiery monster. But once Luz doused the flames, inner Willow looked like Outer Willow.

Hey, there’s the trees Luz was looking for! And they’re all dead, go figure.

Hunter and Luz have fallen into some deep crevice within Belos’ mind. This is far back in his long life, back in a time it looks like he’s tried to forget. We can see in these two portraits a young Philip Wittebane… as well as someone that looks a bit similar to Hunter. Philip’s brother. Hunter’s father*. These are happy memories by the looks of it, and yet they’re decaying and the brother’s face is obscured, almost like someone’s tried to scratch it out.

(*unless that one theory I have turns out to be true)

I tried, but I can’t make out any details on any of these new portraits.

Luz says that this ”The Emperor’s real mind.” 

I think I pointed out before that all the paintings in the corridor above showed Belos as the hero. So that, combined with Luz’ line her makes me think that Belos may very well genuinely think of himself as a hero. That what he is doing is good. Or at the very least, that the end goal is good. Like I’ve said before, I’m not so sure that the Day of Unity will actually benefit the people of the Demon Realm… but rather, that the goal is to benefit the humans in the Human Realm in some way.

Discarded on the ground, Hunter finds this bird palisman. It crumbles to dust in his hand, a hand that shakes noticeably as he undoubtedly thinks of Little Rascal and what Belos would do to it if he got his hands on it.

There it is! There it is! Finally! I finally know Little Rascal’s true name! Now my sister can finally stop asking me if I’ve found out yet!

It’s Flapjack! Which is a type of oat bar originating from the United Kingdom. In north America however, the term is more often used to refer to pancakes. This is useful information for me to possess.

If we look in the background, we get a slightly better look at one of the paintings. It shows Philip and his brother playing with sticks, with some other people standing ominously in the background with what looks like pitchforks. Those could very well be just other kids playing with them though.

(I rewound the scene a few seconds to make sure I caught all the dialogue when I spotted another painting. it looks like Philip’s brother is carving something out of wood while Philip looks. And maybe my eyes are playing trick on me, but it could be the mask the purple kid in the corridor above was wearing.

[samplepsychadelic]

3 A. pantherinoide edibles (2g each) + 10mg THC edible (report started on 7/26)

decided I was going to try last time's dose again. I wanted to get one more trip in before I move. intentions are the same as last time, as well as preparation. the dose was taken at 4:40pm. the only differences are that I did take my medicine this morning and, of course, the time.

6:18: all the effects came on at once surprisingly. it's a lot harder to understand what words mean, both with definition and sound. no visual effects that I can notice, but with my eyes closed I see simple geometry. I also find it harder to keep my eyes open and stay awake (effect of the delta-9)

6:56: starting to have difficulty typing. hallucinating that my hands have textures. an overlayed tranaparent mosiac eff3ct on top of swirls, in fact, the whole room is covered in swirls. having both open eye and closed eye geometry, albeit open eye is much weaker. my arms have a trail effect and I've been hearing a few seconds of rising tones once and awhile. this definitely all caught me off guard since I've never hallucinated this much before. none of it looks especially realistic, though. most of it is easily picked out. (post-trip note: all of the hallucinations I saw with my eyes open were faint or transparent)

7:06: my body feels like it's melting sway extremely slowly. the fact that I had to remind myself that I'm not actually melting because I felt anxious after thinking it is a little funny. the rest of this report will be written from the post-trip perspective. (post-trip note: the melting feeling felt like I was made of wax, with an empty outline of my body and my bones being the only thing left behind. I'm honestly not sure if this was an ego death, it might've been. this trip definitely didn't take place in the physical world and my body just felt like a border between what I was experiencing and this plane of reality. hard to explain.)

the peak of the trip was about an hour with the comedown and after effects lasting until I went to bed around 10pm. I decided to just close my eyes and let the trip play out rather than interrupt it every few minutes to type (which was already difficult). when I did open my eyes a few times I saw after images of my curtains and windows (curtains were red/blue, window was blue/yellow.) and tropical flowers growing on the ceiling, the inner petals were orange and the outer petals were purple. they were growing on a vine and grew and wilted extremely quickly, with them only lasting a few seconds. the longer I struggled with keeping my eyes open, the more the ceiling shifted and became the same square of patterning reflecting and changing. I closed my eyes again and watched the fractals and symmetrical patterns for awhile. I have a common theme of meeting "angels" (not by standard definition. it's complicated). I started by asking them if I could see what the afterlife is like and promised that I would only remember things they were okay with me remembering. before going to their realm we passed through a library, which I recognized as the place where the akashic records were kept (i.e the place where the records of everything to ever happen in the universe was kept). I asked if I could read the records during my short visit, but they told me I couldn't while I was visiting, which was fine. I kind of understood why I couldn't, seeing as I was merely paying a visit and not staying. plus, there were still some aspects of the human mind's limitations that stuck with me during my visit, so I don't think it would have been decipherable if I had been able to read any records. the first angel I met after passing through the library was one named "weatherboy". I don't remember much about him, other than his gold outlines and friendliness. everyone I met was so unique and all had their own personalities and appearances, some even had a specific way of communicating. one communicated with chiptune-esque chirps and beeps, while also saying both parts of the conversation. another communicated through sounds, one through taste and one of them even talked through time, specifically talking in the past. it's very hard to describe but it was all understandable to me. there were a few that especially stuck out to me, the angel of fun, the angel of art/music, and one named fiona. I also met a cherub who had 1 husy head in the middle, a wolf head to the left and a goat head to the right. their appearance was very cartoonish, their voices even more so, the dog in the middle had a brooklyn accent and sounded familiar, but I couldn't make out why. the cherub was probably the one I talked to most since we spent so long trying to figure out what character they sounded like. at some point I had asked someone if god exists, and they said something along the lines of "nah, god isn't real. but we are! even though each of us has their own personality, we all exist as one,". I was happy to hear it. I can't rememeber any specifics after that. towards the end of my visit, I let them know thay I was ready to go back. everyone told me they loved me and to take care of this life, apaprently this is my first incarnation. I very specifically remember all the angels I met saying "goodbye! we love you calvin!". at first this struck me as odd since "calvin" was only my name in this life, but thinking about it more afterward, it was a very sweet gesture of love and acceptance. after returning to my body, I found my head clearing and focus returning, which marked the comedown.

this trip really sticks out to me, since it was my first time having actual visuals, experiencing an ego death and possibly breaking through and talking to entities all in one trip. it makes me wonder what trips will be like once my p. cubensis start fruiting :] here's some doodles I did of both my avatar and some angels I met

[suppenzeit]

Once again GL, maybe GB studying Lexi and makeup routine? :)

makeup people dont come for me one of my masc traits is that i barely know what a makeup is

Greaseball really should’ve started getting ready after Electra got ready. He’d already taken off his leather coat, getting way too warm sitting on the edge of Electras bed, watching as he’d meticulously painted a new pattern into the stars on his cheeks. How he kept his hand so steady Greaseball didn’t know.

Seemingly satisfied with his work, Electra put his brush away and began looking through one of his desk drawers in a rather inelegant way. He’d gotten both of his legs on the chair, one leg upright and the other crossed as he rummaged through the drawer, occasionally taking out different containers. The leg against his chest really impeded his mobility, as he was only able to rummage one-handed, the other used for ferrying products to the desk. After he’d accumulated a small pile on his desk he seemed satisfied and closed the drawer. He opened a container, and picked out another brush, quickly inspecting it before starting to spread some more white on his face.

“You going for an all white look, baby?” Greaseball was sure Electra could pull it off, it was just that Electra had always been full of color. It would be very odd to see him in all white.

Electra paused his painting to look at Greaseball for a moment before going back to what he was doing.

“Oh, this is just so when I put on color it shows up better”

“Ah” Greaseball said it like he understood what Electra said. He did not.

“But I could come up with an all white look, if you’d like?” Electra finished the white portions and looked through his other products, contemplating what exactly to do next.

“Nah, nah, I was just curious. I don’t know anything about that stuff”

“I could teach you sometime,” he looked at Greaseball out of the corner of his eye, smirking “maybe even get you fancied up”

Just the mental image made Greaseballs face scrunch up.

“Fat chance, darlin”

Electra chuckled and picked out a shade of blue to spread on his eyelids, starting out on the inner corner and moving outwards. And Greaseball had to admit that while he was pretty much clueless, watching Electra work was pretty satisfying. He switched to a slightly darker shade of blue, blending it into the blue he’d put on previously. Then to a purple, adding only a little bit before moving onto a striking red. He finished out his coloring with more of a pinkish color. He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment, turning and tilting his head. Then he grabbed a white tube and a black tube from the corner of his desk and opened the white tube, which revealed itself to be more of a pen. With it, Electra drew a line from the outer corners of his eyes. White eyeliner then (eyeliners were one of the very few things Greaseball actually knew of, after Electra had fussed over them for enough time)? Apparently not, as Electra opened the black tube to add the actual eyeliner. And with that, Electra seemed rather pleased with himself. 

“Damn, baby, looking gorgeous as ever” And he did! Electra always managed to look perfect. Looking back, even at the race there wasn’t a hair out of place.

“Well, just wait until I’m done”

Opening some more containers, Electra began spreading glitter all over his eyelids. Of course, it wouldn't be Electra without copious amounts of glitter. Greaseball really should’ve guessed it. He didn’t mind it, per se, it was just that it got everywhere. And it was hard to look imposing with stray pieces of glitter stuck to his face.

“Ok so now, are you done?”

“Three more things, big guy”

Just three more things, he could deal with that. They weren’t in a hurry.

First thing was blush. It didn’t stand out too much from Electras skin, aside from the slight glitter effect it had.

Next was lipstick, a shade he’d used many times before. And Greaseball knew from experience that it didn’t smudge, no matter how much they made out (which had been a problem before, he’d once gone an embarrassingly long time with lipstick smudged on his face).

Lastly, Electra grabbed a little spray bottle to spray his face with. Greaseball had no clue what it’s purpose was, but he was glad that Electra was finally done.

“And there,” Electra turned to face Greaseball and did a pose “do you like it?”

He did look amazing, and so perfectly him.

“Shit, baby, every time you just blow me away”

“Sweet talker”

Electra rose up from the chair and stretched a little before picking out his clothes for the night. A blue low v-neck shirt, red leather pants (he made sure to angle himself just right to put them on to rile Greaseball up), a red padded leather jacket and a pair of blue lightning bolt earrings. They looked so good together.

Putting his own leather jacket on, Greaseball let Electra lead the way. And so they left, ready to make the whole world jealous.

[onlyseokmins]

omg </33 the hoshi smut has me on my kness can u make a vernon with a daddy kink ? pls pls 🥺🥺

helloooo <333 I presume you're referring to part 1 of A Tiger's Dominion so thank you!! I... I'm not that good w/ daddy kink sdfkdf and switched it up a bit so I hope you still enjoy it and honestly I should be working on other things but since my most recent post was a Vernon fic that mentioned it, I thought why not just continue it fhskdjf so we still got some Chase Atlantic vibes cuz vernrot is real loves, enjoy ~

"Go on. Say it, baby."

Vernon coos rhetorically, bracing himself on one hand placed near your head with the other teasing his fingers between your lips. He had kept true to his promise. Once the rain cleared, he had driven as fast as was legally possible back to his house, telling you to get some rest on the way there.

As if you could, too worried about the mix of your releases dripping out of your spent pussy, soaking through your already ruined panties, and leaving a noticeable spot on his passenger seat. But Vernon shushes you with a brief kiss on your cheek, hand clasped familiarly around your thigh once he shifts gears, and warns that you'll appreciate the reprieve for what's to come.

So you do. Succumbing to a short nap hearing the comforting rev of his engine, missing Vernon's endearing smile at your light snores with occasional glances in your direction. Giddy upon the realization that you were actually his.

And boy, aren't you thankful you got some shut-eye. Once you arrived and were woken with a gentle shake and murmur of your name, Vernon cleans you up as promised.

On his hands and knees immediately, he's kissing up the inner side of your thigh and spreading your legs so he can trail his tongue around the outer lips of your pussy. Then he's diving in. Eating you out like a starved man, groaning at how you taste just like him, sucking up every drop of your new arousal as you bang the back of your head against the inner side of the front door because "Fucking hell Hansol... we're still in the goddamn foyer."

But that's okay. Because just as your legs begin to tremble around his ears, hips bucking against his mouth, arousal smeared across his chin — he's dragging you into his bedroom. It doesn't matter how wobbly your knees are because you're on his bed before you know it. Enveloped by his distinct scent and his arms as he grins down at you with messy waves of hair dripping with sweat and shiny, swollen lips.

It hits you when you're both naked. Staring into each other's eyes, lips hovering mere inches away. Just how intimate this all is. Your palms fly up to cover your face and Vernon backs away slightly and tilts his head.

"What's wrong? Do you want to stop?"

"No, I just..." You peer at him through your fingertips. "I'm... embarrassed."

"Embarrassed? Even after you rode my dick hard enough that my car was shaking? And let me eat you out in my entryway?"

"Omigod, Hansol! Don't say it like that!"

"But it's true!"

"Yeah, but! Geez!" You sigh as he collapses against you giggling.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I can't help but think it's adorable that you'd be shy now though."

"But we're naked. And it just feels... different."

Vernon lifts his head back up so he can look down at you. The way your eyes shine when they meet his, the bashful smile on your lips, the rise and fall of your chest, your body pressed against his. All for him. All his. And he grins, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

"Yeah, it does. Perfectly so. I love you, remember?"

"Mhm, I love you, too."

You wrap your arms around his broad back, nails lightly digging into his shoulder blades, and you bury your head in his neck. He hums. One hand runs along the side of your body and hovers between your legs.

"May I?" He feels you nod but wants to hear it. "Need your verbal response, baby."

You giggle and run your tongue across the red and purple bite mark you'd left earlier before moaning in his ear. "Yes, Hansolie."

Cool fingers gently prod at your folds, the both of you groaning when he slides two in because of how incredibly wet and sensitive you are. He doesn't waste much time, simply teasing you a little bit before he slides them back out. His other hand takes the tip of his cock and rubs the head of it against your sopping pussy to silence any whines of complaint.

He takes his time. Committing each and every piece and part of you to memory. Certainly, this won't be the last time but it's among the first of many. Vernon wants to know what makes you sigh a little louder, breath pausing in your chest with anticipation, and nails marking up his back a tiny bit harder.

Your mouth falls open as every glide of his hips pokes the tip of his cock a little further into your cunt before pulling away again. He takes that opportunity to slide his fingers now coated with your arousal between your lips.

It can't be real, how perfect you are as you moan around his fingers at the taste. Cunt clenching enough that a sunctioning sound can be heard every time he pulls out. Like a filthy porno, the slow way he finally bottoms out makes Vernon's jaw nearly fall off at the unbelievable sounds your bodies make together. A shiver runs down his spine at how he can feel your walls part and grip around him.

He lets out a content sigh and closes his eyes as he remains still. Nestled deep within you, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist with you mouthing at his fingers. Although, you begin to grow impatient and grind your hips against his causing his eyes to flash back open.

"Go on and say it, baby," he goads and then removes his fingers so they're holding your hips down instead. Knowing the power they have.

But he's the one in control now.

You whine his name in frustration but he shakes his head. Chuckling darkly, he whispers in your ear.

"Not that, sweetheart. I love to hear you say my name like that but there's something else, isn't there?" You wrinkle your eyebrows in confusion and he continues. "Something you had no trouble making fun of me for earlier."

Recognition flashes in your eyes and a devious smirk plays on your lips. "I knew you had a daddy kink."

"It's not me," Vernon brushes a strand of hair behind your ear fondly despite his teasing tone. "Can't be when it's your cunt that keeps clamping around my dick at the mention."

You pout. Hating that the big beautiful brain he sometimes uses is able to pick up on something like that. You also hate the shit-eating grin that fails to leave his face. Your hips are still pinned down and you know he will refuse to move if you don't say what he wants.

Struggling to obtain the control you absolutely do not have, Vernon obliges when you tug his neck down and fiddle with the loose hairs that lay on his nape and mutter in his ear.

"Fine, daddy."

"'Fine what', darling? What is it that you want from daddy?"

You grit your teeth but he shifts as if he's going to pull out despite the vice-like grip your legs have around him, knowing it will delay your protest.

"I-I want you in me... I want you... to fuck me s-senseless..."

"Yeah? Is that what my baby wants?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes, what?"

"... Yes, daddy."

If you could wipe the smirk off his face you would but you settle for pulling him into an open-mouthed kiss although you can still feel the upward curve of triumph on his lips. You bite down gently on his lower lip in mock retaliation and he jerks back with a gasp. Honestly, you're not sure if your eyes are rolling back at his audacity or the sharp snaps of his hips digging his cock deep inside that bundle of nerves in your cunt. The filthy words he's spewing certainly do not help.

"Who's pussy is this?"

"Yours daddy."

"Mhm that's right, you gonna let me fill it up again? Leak all over my bed so it smells like you for days?"

"Ah, yes daddy."

"Doesn't matter though 'cause I'll have you right back on my bed tomorrow, yeah? Even as soon as in the morning. Maybe won't let my cock leave this pussy at all tonight. Belongs to me... it's all mine. Isn't that right, baby?"

Your back arches off the bed and you moan loudly, "All yours, daddy."

It feels like your fifth orgasm of the night but it may be only the second. Vernon showers your tits with kisses as you clench tightly around him. Tight enough that he's not far behind, filling you up with his release once more. Cradling your shaking body until you're coming back down to earth and able to kiss his nose that scrunches up in delight.

"I love you," he reiterates in glee, "even if you made fun of me for having the daddy kink."

"I think it goes both ways, you totally got off on it, too."

Vernon shakes his head but can only let out a hiss, watching the way your hole pushes out the mixture of cum when he pulls out his dick.

You're out of breath for real, panting in exhaustion but you send him a wobbly smile. "Love you too, daddy."

You're both snorting. Gingerly you sit up and make grabby hands in his direction. He coos "my baby" and helps you stand up, gesturing in the direction of the shower.

"Wanna shower together?"

You make a face. "Only if you don't pull anything funny."

"Me? I would never."

"I'm serious, Hansol. Another round and I really won't be able to walk anymore."

"Weak. I thought we were going to go for days on end."

"Only if you're okay serving me meals in bed," you tease back.

Vernon kisses your forehead and wraps a comforting arm around your bare shoulder so you're tucked into his side. "That sounds like everything I've ever wanted."

[void-chara]

I drew a him! the scrungly scrimbo! he is Not Happy and would like you to Put Him Down Please. he promises he wont bite you. he is lying

[ID: A digital drawing of Grian, in a simplistic cartoon style. Grian depicted as a man with light skin, pink cheeks, and shoulder length dark blonde hair. He has wings attached to  his back, and a tail made of feathers coming from under his sweater. Part of his hair is up in a bun, and some has fallen down to cover his left eye. He is wearing black shoes, dark gray pants, and a red sweater. His wings are colored similarly to a parrot, though not any specific species. The highest row of feathers are fluffy, and the same color as Grian’s sweater. The second and third rows are different on the outside and inside. The outer second row is the same yellowish brown as his hair, with a purple mark heavily resembling an eye at the end of each feather. The outer third row is the longest, and the feathers are dark blue-violet, though the lighting makes them appear more purple. The inner third row is the same purple as the eye markings. The inner second row is a pinkish purple. A computer curser has grabbed him by the back of his sweaters neck. His body hangs limp, and his wings drop below him, slightly curling around him, though not enough to obscure view of his body. His face is in shadow, and he glares tiredly towards the viewer. End ID]

i actually drew this a few months ago, i think back in may, but i kept forgetting to post it lol. anyway its a bit out of date from my current grian design, because i drew it back when i was headcanoning hc grian and life series grian as the same guy, whereas now i see them as two separate guys. well. sort of separate. its complicated and i cant really explain it without delving deep into all my mc and mcyt headcanons, and that would take a while

also he kind of looks like chara dreemurr from undertale lol. like in the hair and the eyes and the rosy cheeks. i suppose that makes sence, since any blorbo who rotates in my head for long enough inevitably begins to resemble chara dreemurr, including myself. i am normal about chara dreemurr from undertale.

anywya, i tried a new art style in this one and im pretty happy with how it turned out!

[antiquitiesandlabyrinths]

Egyptian Astrology and Calendar

(credit)

Modern beliefs regarding ancient Egyptian astrology stem mainly from two reliefs - the Dendera zodiac, found on the ceiling of the pronaos of a chapel room dedicated to Osiris within the Dendera temple of Hathor, and a papyrus labelled the Cairo calendar that came from an antiquities collector in 1943.

In order to comprehend how the Cairo calendar and the Dendera zodiac, we need a basic understanding of how Egyptians counted their years.

- They had three seasons, each about 120 days, and each divided into four months of 30 days. Within those months were 10-day weeks called decans. To solve the unevenness of the earth’s tilt, they had five epagomenal days.

The seasons were thus:

• Akhet; Inundation, generally from June to September. It was the flooding season in which the Nile grew in size.

• Proyet; Emergence, which came after the flood.

• Shomu; the Harvest, within which you can assume what they did.

The beginning of Akhet was marked not by a specific date, but by the emergence of the star Sirius, which usually preceded the flooding of the Nile.

Now that that’s out of the way, an important fact to mention about ancient Egyptian horoscopes is that they weren’t especially specific, and the horoscope applied to everyone in that one day, not just a certain one. The options daily consisted “"Favorable", "Mostly Favorable", "Very Favorable", "Adverse," "Mostly Adverse," and "Very Adverse.”” For example, most of the days displayed on the Cairo calendar are marked as “Very Favorable” or “Very Adverse.”

Commonly these titles are affected heavily by what events of mythology happened on that day in the ‘past’. The day in which Horus fought his uncle Seth, and consequently losing one of his eyes, was regarded as a very adverse day. On other days in which there were parties and/or happy peace on heaven and earth, the days were called favorable.

The last part of an ancient Egyptian reading on astrology and horoscopes is essentially telling the person what they should do because of that good or bad luck. On the day Horus fought Set, Egyptians were advised to stay in their homes.

To sum up:

Egyptian astrology contained the classic 12 constellations. These were formed from 36 groups of stars called decans. Each decan had a God to go with it and covered 10 degrees—or ten days—in the calendar. So, the 36 decans each having 10 days made up the 360 day calendar, and once you add the epagomenal days (in which Osiris and his siblings were born), you get 365 days. Fun fact: the epagomenal days were essentially half a week of straight partying.

There are 12 astrological signs, as previously mentioned. They all have Gods or Goddesses that represent them and the people born under the 30-day (or 3 decan) timespan each of them are owed. They show the character, strengths, weaknesses, skills, and behaviors of their people.

Before I get into the signs, I’d like to mention that because we don’t have the full story on Egyptian astrology, and because Egypt’s history spanned such a long era and overwent many changes, there are two different ways of practicing ancient Egyptian astrology. One is to attempt to assign traditional dates based off decans, which is the one I am referring to, and one that filters in the influences from other cultures such as Babylonia and Greece.

Let’s get into the actual signs themselves, now.

Amon-Ra

Dates: Jan 8-21, Feb 1-11

Similar Signs: the Nile, Horus

Colors for men: yellow

Colors for women: orange

People born under Ra tend to be generous and stumble easily open great opportunities for success. They often reassure others and are good at inspiring people. Seldom will your life be mediocre.

Anubis

Dates: May 8-27, Jun 29 - Jul 13

Similar Signs: Bastet and Isis

Colors for women: purple

Colors for men: sienna

Like Anubis himself, people born underneath his sign are intelligent and easily gift compassion, while simultaneously carrying a darker presence of thought within them. This does not make them a bad person—it simply means they understand the inherent darkness in the world, an understanding that can sometimes make them seem fatalistic, or, at times, extremely ambivalent. These people may find it difficult to healthily maintain a happy love life.

Bastet

Dates: Jul 14-28, Sep 23-27, Oct 3-17

Similar Signs: Sekhmet, Horus

Colors for men: yellow

Colors for women: grey

Those born under Bastet assume much of the role that Bastet herself occupies in the Egyptian pantheon of Gods. They seek peace and harmony within themselves and in their relationships with others. Since they care deeply for many things, some have a tendency to overprotect and devote themselves to their loved ones, while forgetting to maintain their own health. They have a great intuition and easily pick out secret enemies within their social groups.

Geb

Dates: Feb 12-29, Aug 20-31

Similar Signs: Seth, Horus

Colors for women: red orange

Colors for men: violet

Geb as a God within the pantheon acted as a sort of mediator, coming in to overlook agreements and pledges to make sure they were of good intentions. With that information it’s not hard to see why he was representative of a guardian of life, a sweet, submissive, and peaceful image. People born in his stead are often writers, administrators, or counselors. They can be highly sensitive and very impressionable. Empathy can run at an all-time high with the way Geb raises those born under his name above the sins of vanity.

Horus

Dates: Apr 20 - May 7, Aug 12-19

Similar signs: Geb, Bastet

Colors for men: carmine red

Colors for women: gold

Those born beneath Horus’ wing have fierce, intense personalities, highlighted by an intelligence that easily attracts people to them. The width and variety of their knowledge can give them an ‘all-knowing’ image to an outsider. In order to reach the full potential of Horus, they must learn to control their rebellious tendencies early on before they get too far ahead of themselves. They may have a special respect or appreciation for mothers and wives.

Isis

Dates: Mar 11-31, Oct 18-29, Dec 19-31

Similar signs: Osiris, Thoth

Colors for women: blue

Colors for men: white

Isis is another Goddess considered a mother Goddess—a protector of innocents. People born under Isis earn her special protection and tend to have an air of hospitality about them. It woild be well advised for these people to seek out positions in life in which you will be able to protect or give life. Judge people fairly and be receptive, but keep your standards.

Mut

Dates: Jan 22-31, Sep 8-22

Similar signs: Ra, Thoth

Colors for men: brown

Colors for women: carmine

People born under the sign of Mut adopt many of the Goddesses’ traits, which can result in a melancholic, sometimes secretive persona. They have a shyness that can create frustration when it comes to their romantic and sexual life. Still, they contain within themselves a rich inner life, and can have lots of wisdom to give. They may find themselves, throughout life, searching for the goodwill of others and the protection of a father figure.

The Nile (mine!)

Dates: Jan 1-7, Jun 19-28, Sept 1-7, Nov 19-26

Similar signs: Ra, Seth

Colors for women: Deep blue

Colors for men: Vivid red

Those born under the Nile are peacemakers and lovers of the finer things in life. They believe they owe it to themselves to live in an awakened and aware state. The Nile watches over all—the resurrection of Osiris, the defeat of Seth, and the forming glory of Horus. People of the Nile are wise from this, tolerant of many different types of people, and have the capability of an extreme tenderness towards others. They want to be free from the bonds of ignorance but, like how the Nile brings both fertile earth and corrosive silt, they can be a victim to the everchanging tides of their emotions.

Osiris

Dates: Mar 1-10, Nov 27 - Dec 18

Similar signs: Isis, Thoth

Colors for men: yellow

Colors for women: green

These people may have two distinct sides of themselves. Despite that, they are kindly prone to generosity towards others. They have a passionate, fiery pull within them, but can simultaneously be quite vulnerable. When faced with a predicament, they may find difficulty in acting in both a quick and wise manner.

Sekhmet

Dates: Jul 29 - Aug 11, Oct 30 - Nov 7

Similar signs: Bastet, Geb

Colors for women: turquoise

Colors for men: green

Those born under Sekhmet are observant, somewhat controlling, and at times, very telepathic. Very rarely do they indulge in their deeper desires. Their sense of right and wrong can be muddled in their head. Despite that they have an intense inner, and often outer, beauty, occupying themselves with an unearthly gracefulness.

Seth

Dates: May 28 - Jun 18, Sep 28 - Oct 2

Similar signs: Geb, the Nile

Colors for men: blue turquoise

Colors for women: black

Seth is a curious God, and despite the inherent darkness surrounding him in most Egyptian mythology, he is not a truly ‘evil’ God. Those born under his sign are free spirits, like Seth, and are wanderers, also like Seth. They search for an innate wholeness and believe they can find that in the surroundings they find themselves in. Oftentimes they must endure hardships and go through many adventures before finding that part of themselves. Once they feel complete, though, they have an intense inner power. They easily learn from their mistakes and possess a strong sense of tenacity.

Thoth

Dates: April 1-19, Nov 8-17

Similar signs: Bastet, Isis

Colors for women: white

Colors for men: pink

Similar to Thoth, those born under his wing are enthusiastic and inventive. Mediocrity in themselves and others can have a tendency to frustrate them. Even with that though, they scorn any type of meanness towards others. They have a tendency to take brave risks that can either harm them or further themselves as people. They abhor losing their sense of the world, and misdoing others.

[r0b0-writes]

Gift for @toastedjeans ! Cryptid AU Oneshot

AH- Thank you so, so much for allowing me to write this! I love the AU so much and really wanted to explore a bit. You're such an awesome and kind person, your reblogs, tags, comments, etc. are always appreciated. I always love seeing your comments and interactions on my stuff. It truly makes me feel like my stuff is actually good, ya know?

So, here you go, a thank you and gift for all you've done.

Title: Freight Night Lights Words: 2,214

Darkness was not uncommon to the wary three as they trudged along the outer streets of the city. Food was hardly scarce in the area they originally came from but urban crawl made it tempting to venture to new areas. The smells of new food and enticing lights were the biggest reasons. Neon seemed to paint the city; greens, purples, blues, reds, all were so mesmerizing.

Cakes especially had wanted to go and see up close how cars moved in their natural habitat. The skeletal remains from the junkyard were only so interesting after all. The insides made nice beds. But to see one move as colors bounced off the exterior was like watching a beautiful bird.

The sky began to paint a lovely shade of dark purples as the sun's rays began to dance over the distant sealine. It had been dark when they snuck into the outskirts and the rising sun threatened to make them vulnerable. With their bellies full and curiosity sated, it was time to head home and rest.

Sweet perched on Cakes shoulder, his head turned 180 degrees as a loud crash sounded behind them. Cakes turned quickly, it's tail hit trashcans, making an even louder ruckus.

With eyes made for the dark, the two quickly relaxed when they saw it was just their friend. Cap'n scrambled out of a trashcan, a plastic bag caught between his antlers. In a hurry, he fell to his back and frantically began trying to kick it off using his hind legs. He pushed himself back, hitting something behind him, only causing more noise as he jumped, tail fluffed to max volume, and hissed at the unknown object.

Sweet stared, unsurprised, but annoyed as it watched Cap'n continuously try to remove the bag. They leaned against Cakes' head and watched, wondering how long it would take for Cap'n to just use his arms. At least Cap'n had arms to use, Sweet only had wings and the talons on their feet.

Cakes clicked their tongue and Cap'n's ears stood alert, turning his head in its direction. Cakes hovered a hand over its head then gestured to Cap'n. The tinier terrestrial cryptid raised a hand, felt the bag, and sheepishly removed it.

Sweet rolled an eye and chirped accusingly, pointing a wing towards the inner city. Didn't Cap'n care about the Normals that would hear all that noise?

Cap'n rolled his eyes and mocked Sweet's mannerisms.

Sweet's tail feathers fluffed up in shock and annoyance. He bent his legs and jumped off of Cakes' shoulders, ready to give him a piece of their mind. But was stopped abruptly when Cakes grabbed him by the tail, stopping his flight. Sweet fell to the ground, instinctually cradling their tail. Sweet and Cap'n turned to face Cakes. It knew better than to pull on tails, that hurt!

Cakes placed a finger to its lips, keeping a semi-stern expression before turning back and setting up the fallen trashcans.

Cap'n faced Sweet and smirked, crossing his arms. As if to say 'yeah' in a mocking tone before dropping to all fours and joining Cakes' side. Sweet rolled their eye. What a moron. They expanded their wings and flapped up to the air, gliding back down to Cakes' shoulders.

The three were cautious as they stayed in the shadows as much as possible. Avoiding the eyes of early risers. Alleyways were their friend in this adventure back home. Cap'n stood up again, and peeked around a corner, his whiskers twitched. The cables leading up along a building looked appetizing. Another bite couldn't hurt-

A sharp tug pulled him from the street's light. Sweet stood above his body, a talon tight around the fur along his chest. If they hadn't just cost him a meal, he'd be blushing. Using his hind legs he kicked Sweet off and dusted his fur off. What was the big deal? It's not a problem to get some extra grub.

Sensing the tension, Cakes squatted down beside the two. It placed a hand on their shoulders, misdirecting their attention. The two seemed mildly apologetic for making the taller one worry. Cakes hummed and leaned its head forward, an invitation.

Let bygones be bygones?

The smaller ones looked at each and back and Cakes. It had closed its eyes but still had a gentle smile as it nudged the two. The pair stifled their laughter as Cakes continued to playfully nudge. He'd continue until they made up. Cap'n was the first to give in, unable to resist the opportunity to return the affection. Sweet joined in shortly. It didn't take much to get them all on the same page again.

Cakes wrapped his arms around the pair and squeezed them into a tight hug. Tonight had been fun, best to end it on a good note. After all, they were in this together! A trio!

The laughing died when Cap'n's ears twitched. He heard something approaching. He tugged on his friends to get their attention. Cakes immediately frowned and picked the two up. He scanned the area for a space to hide in. It could easily defeat whatever came their way, but they'd rather avoid a fight. Despite the confrontational sounds coming from Sweet, who seemed more than ready to fight.

Cakes scrambled between two trashcans, pulling more layers of fallen filth and debris to cover them. He wrapped his large tail around everyone, pressing them to his chest. The smaller he could make them, the better. Plus, in this position, he could easily shield the others if needed. He tried to steady the sound of his chest, if it were too loud it might attract attention. Two hands cupped its face, two heads leaned forward to meet it. The beating in its chest slowed.

"Man," came a loud groan, "you guys and your late-night snack runs are gonna be the death of me." "Is that supposed to be a bad thing, Susan?"

There was a pause then a loud smack.

"Say that again, birdbrain!" "Ah- ! Don't fight, guys!"

Noelle watched in anticipation as Susie held Berdly in a chokehold.

"Say 'uncle'!" "Uncle! Uncle!"

Susie released Berdly, "s'what I thought," her lips turned up in a proud sneer.

"Hey, Kris, why'd we stop?" Susie asked. "Is there a shortcut, perhaps?" A new voice spoke. "..." "Guess that's our answer, Ralsei. C'mon guys."

The crew of Kris, Susie, Ralsei, Berdly, and Noelle, made their way down the alley.

Cakes pulled the two closer, shutting its eyes to stop its glow from giving them away. It felt the other's anxiety in each breath that escaped their chests.

"Did you guys hear about the sighting?"

A collective groan sounded amongst the group.

"Not this again, Berdly," Susie's shoulders sagged. "I- I'd like to hear about it," Noelle chimed in.

Ralsei agreed, "I would like to hear as well." He placed a hand on Berdly's shoulder. "Just because they aren't real to us, doesn't mean they can't be real to you."

"They are real!" Berdly stomped his foot. "The news said so! There were sightings of a cryptid by the ocean not too long ago! And how do you explain all those missing cars, huh?"

"People steal junk from that scrapyard all the time," Susie explained. "I've done it before, took a busted street light, now my room's sick as hell."

"That's not the same and you know it," Berdly huffed. He recollected himself, "whatever, I wouldn't expect any of you to understand the intricacies of liminal creatures beyond what your fragile brains can handle."

Susie shrugged, "they aren't real, birdbrain. Get over it."

"They are too!" Berdly shrieked. "They are incredible beings that are incomprehensible and they aren't monsters or humans, they're something else entirely! Imagine being a combination of only the best parts of other beings! Imagine the possibilities for medicine, for science!"

"Plus, they look cool and scary," Noelle whispered. "Plus, they look cool and scary!" Berdly repeated.

"No one's actually seen a cryptid, dorks," Susie towered above the two. "Besides, there's always things much scarier than the paranormal," a low growl sounded in her throat.

"(Eep)!" Noelle blushed, clutching the ends of her skirt. "Y- You aren't s- so scary," Berdly puffed out his chest. Susie redirected her attention towards him, "oh, really?"

"Y- Yeah... !" His knees trembled.

Susie's laugh was a low rumble of thunder, "you think so, do you? I guess we'll just have to change that." Her eyes turned white as her mouth slowly opened, almost unhinged as if to take a bite.

Berdly shut his eyes, his body shaking.

Only to stop when Susie began bursting out with laughter. "Man! I got you two good! Kris, Ralsei, did you guys see me?"

"We saw, Susie," Ralsei sighed, disappointed. "This isn't how you make friends," he mumbled.

"Ah, we're already all besties, right, Noelle?" Susie threw an arm over Noelle's shoulder. "Y E P !" Noelle replied stiffly. Truthfully, Noelle would agree with anything Susie said. "Nothing to be scared of with me and Kris here, anyway. With my brawn and their... leadership(?) we can defeat anything!"

"What about me, Susie? What can I do?" Ralsei stepped forward sheepishly. "Oh, you're... morale boost! Yeah, you make sure we're all happy."

Ralsei beamed. "Oh, that won't be too hard. You guys make me so happy; your own happiness is contagious!"

The effect was immediate, the entire party felt their hearts swell. If this were a game, their HP would've MAXed.

The moment didn't last long, however. It was interrupted by a loud rattled banging which made everyone jump back as a trashbag fell from on top of two cans. After calming Berdly's high-pitched scream, the group stared. Should they inspect it? Trashbags don't just fall over for no reason, right?

Susie nudged Kris forward, "you go check it out." Kris turned, spreading their arms out with an incredulous look. "You're the leader! Go, uh, lead us." Berdly peeked out from behind Susie, "yeah, we believe in you, Kris!"

Kris rolled their eyes and sent the group an unpleasant gesture as they turned to walk toward the trashcans.

Their steps grew heavy, their SOUL began to pound, hands began to shake. They didn't pick up their feet anymore, instead opting to slide forward, keeping one foot further away for a quick dash. Just in case. They placed a hand on the trash, preparing to overturn the cans.

Cakes racked its head with what to do. It had to protect them- it had to make sure they were safe. He'd create a distraction and run, letting the other two escape. He wouldn't let them be caught. He'd attack the Normals if he had to. He'd do anything to protect Sweet and Cap'n. Their mouth opened, getting ready to sink their fangs into whatever uncovered their hiding space.

"Kris?" Noelle peeped, "what is-"

Kris fell back and began frantically kicking whatever had attacked them. The group behind them screamed in terror as Kris fought the creature, they got a good hold on it and threw it toward the group, scooting far away on the concrete ground. They tried to collect their breath.

Their friends screeched as the creature rattled on the ground and began-

"Hap- Happ- y Bir-rr-rrthd-day t- to y-yy- you"

Their screaming died down as the rattling creature came into the light.

It was a toy monkey with steel pans.

Kris began to laugh and point at their friends as realization hit the group all at once. Kris rolled on the ground, they were laughing so much they couldn't even stand. Each attempt only brought them back to the ground, clutching their chest.

"Kris!" Susie screeched, "I'm gonna pummel you!" She rolled up her sleeves as the others stared at the broken toy.

Ralsei picked it up, "that wasn't very nice, Kris." He placed a hand over his chest, "my chest is still beating a mile a minute." Noelle had turned to the nearby wall for support as she tried to calm her heart rate. Berdly was curled in a ball on the ground.

Even as Susie help Kris up by the collar of their shirt, they couldn't stop laughing. "You think scaring me was funny, nerd?" Susie shook them and they nodded, wiping tears from their eyes. "H U H ?!" Susie dropped them. "I was worried about you! I thought something had really-"

"Wait!" Berdly interrupted, suddenly more alive. "You were scared, weren't you, Susan?" Berdly wiggled his eyebrows. "I saw the way you were shaking, you thought it was going to be a cryptid, didn't you~ ?" He teased.

Susie looked over her shoulder, the whites of her eyes shining as her muscles tensed.

"O- Or you weren't scared at all, sorry. I must've been mistaken." Berdly stepped away, back to the safety beside Noelle.

Kris managed to collect their breath and held up their watch for everyone to see.

"Yeah, you're right," Susie helped them up. "It's late, let's get home before something else goes bump in the night." She punched their shoulder, earning a sly grin and another chuckle.

The footsteps echoed away.

Cakes let out a sigh of relief. If they could all manage to make it back to the junkyard without another run-in like that, maybe this outing would be worth all the stress.

[icollectyoursins]

Leone Abbacchio Relationship HCs

🐉 anon asked for: “Abbacchio relationship hcs?? -🐉”

These are just SFW headcanons, so I went a little overboard to compensate for the lack of NSFW although, I’ll no doubt do some in the future. Tried to make these kind of organized so it’s easier to read. This will all be under the cut And, yes, reader is a stand user and can see Moody Blues.

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: SFW, brief mentions of nightmares, trauma.

Word Count: 2226

General

Abbacchio is a tough cookie to crack when it comes to romance and forms of affection. He just doesn’t think he’s super into it. Until you gently caress his face while he’s falling asleep or maybe it was the time you curled up next to him while watching a movie. Or the time you casually laced your fingers with his while walking down the street. 

Okay, fine, he’s soft, but he would never admit it! Unless he’s been drinking a little too much. Then he’ll tell you how much you mean to him. Or when you’re feeling like shit and super down on yourself.

His nicknames/pet names for you are usually dear, cara/caro (darling/dear), but mostly he just uses your name. He likes the way it sounds! And, honestly, you like the way he says it too.

After you’ve been together for a while, he starts to notice changes in his personality and habits. He’s calmer, doesn’t lash out as much as he used to; he’s less on edge about everything. As well, he noticed that he was drinking less and when he was drinking, it was healthier. It wasn’t long binges in the middle of the night anymore, it was just one or two with friends or for a celebration. He didn’t really realize how much you helped him and how much you meant to him until then. He knew he loved you, of course, but that was really where it clicked in.

You notice the change too. He starts getting more playful in a weird Abbacchio way. It’s small things like poking your side or behind while you’re focused on something. Occasionally, he’ll wrap his arms around your waist from behind and whisper something sweet in your ear that makes you giggle. 

When Abbacchio isn’t reading, he’s listening to someone reading. He frequently listens to podcasts, audiobooks, etc. while doing his chores or driving. He thinks it’s a good way to educate himself on current topics or things he’s just interested in. With his whole past, I don’t think he would be interested in true crime or anything like that. Too triggering for him and with you, he really doesn’t want to fall back into old habits.

Now, he’s not perfect and he’s obviously a very hurt individual, so I think it would take someone with a lot of patience to help him get over some of his trauma (and yes, it is trauma). He has his rough days where he’s angrier and more on edge and this makes him more likely to yell or lash out. If you can avoid this, great, but talk to him about it later when he’s calmed down. He needs someone who is good with tense situations who can either calm him down or be able to walk away from the situation and come back later. That being said, you are not his therapist, you are not anyone’s therapist (unless that’s your job). You are their partner. A partner can help with some, but usually, you’re not trained enough to properly deal with something like this.

Dates

He enjoys taking long walks with you, especially near the water. The water is extremely relaxing to him and you’re relaxing to him, so it’s the best of both worlds. 

Not overly into picnics, but if you offer, he would be more than happy to indulge you by packing a basket with some nice red wine and a charcuterie board with some sandwiches. Sincerely loves the beach and sitting next to you on a blanket, enjoying the sun on the warmer days just makes him feel so human again.

His favourite dates with you are the ones where you two are on the couch at home together watching a movie. He enjoys the closeness, the relaxed state you’re both in and, of course, the popcorn. Eats it plain to be healthier, but when you’re not looking, he’ll add salt and butter to his. But, then one day one of the boyz introduce him to adding chocolatey things to popcorn (like M&M’s) and that’s it. His loose diet is out the window.

     The microwave beeped in the background while you plopped down, flicking through different disks in your hand. You had picked out a classic, cheesy werewolf horror movie by the time Abbacchio sat down with two bowls in hand. He handed him the movie while sneaking a handful of his popcorn into your mouth.

     “Mmph!” You let out a muffled sound of shock as warm chocolate squished into your hand. You dropped the chocolate into your bowl, looking at the mess you had just made. “What did you put in your bowl?”

     He chucked. “Mn’M’s.”

     “Why?”

     “Narancia told me to.” The DVD was in and starting up just as he was walking back, shaking the couch as he sat down with a grunt. He pulled a tissue out of the box next to him, handing it to you, then he grabbed his bowl, picking out a piece of warm M&M and sucking it into his mouth with a satisfying crunch. He licked his fingers while you cleaned your palm, frustrated with how little it was cleaning up. 

     “Ugh, whatever!” You began licking up the remnants earning you another chuckle from Leone. One of you presses play on the remote and settle into each other. You’re curled up into his arm for most of the movie, head leaning on his collar bone. He occasionally kisses the top of your head or pops a piece of popcorn in your mouth. 

     Soon, the bowls are empty and you’re practically sitting in his lap, holding each other close. He’s so warm, so comfortable. You find yourself starting to nod into sleep. He hums as he feels your breathing slow to a steady rhythm. Yeah, that movie was pretty boring, wasn’t it?

     He chuckles, carefully pulling the blanket from the back of the couch, pulling it around you while he got himself comfortable. There was no way he was getting up from this spot, so he might as well join you.

When Abbacchio is feeling fancy or bougie, he’ll take you out to restaurants or tourist attractions. If anyone tries to swindle you out of something, you can guarantee he’s going to at least insult them in some way or maybe just straight up kick them in the face. Regardless, he’ll protect you.

Affection

When in public, he still likes to keep you close, but tones it down a little bit. Usually, he’s got his hand on your back or you’re holding hands, hovering close to each other. 

He’s very protective and if the gang’s jokes go too far, he’ll let them know. 

In private, he’s obviously more relaxed. He doesn’t need to put on a mask around you, so he just lets it all go. He’ll come up while you’re doing chores and either hug you from behind or spin you around for a kiss before letting you continue whatever it was you were doing with no explanation. 

Very rarely lets you do his makeup, but when he does, he’s a little cheeky about it and kind of anal all at the same time. The easiest way for you to do his make up is sitting in his lap, so already he’s cocky about it, but then you start getting to the eyeliner and he gets picky.

   You perched yourself on Leone’s lap, carefully buffing out a natural-looking eyeshadow with a brush. Occasionally, he would crack open an eye, looking up to see the concentration on your face as you avoided any fall out from the shadow. He squeezed your thighs pleasantly then massaged circles into the soft flesh. You looked into his open eye with a coy smirk before returning to your work.

    You dipped the brush into the pallet again, this time a lighter shade for the inner corner of his eyes. Gently, you pressed the pigment in from the edge of the lid to the corner, then, like before, you buffed it out back into the lid. His hands began to wander, sliding up and down your thighs. You gave him another look, but he wasn’t paying attention this time, eyes closed. You scoffed.

    Finally, you finished, moving onto the eyeliner, picking out a sleek black You started with the outer corner, going for a winged look. Before you were able to press a line in, he grabbed your hand quickly, pushing it back so he could open his eyes.

    “You’re doing it wrong,” he said. You sat back, exasperated.

    “I haven’t even done anything!”

    The two of you got into a small playful argument of “oh, I’ll do it,” “no, I’ll do it.” Until eventually you settled with him doing your makeup in exchange.

    “Thank you, now.” You reached for two shades of lipstick, one purple and one black. “Which one do you want?” He rolled his eyes, grabbing the black as well as a handheld mirror.

    “No, no, no. You get to do your eyeliner, not your lipstick! The lipstick is mine.” You playfully kissed his lips before pulling everything from his hands, earning you a groan from Abbacchio.

Seeing as we’re talking about sitting on his lap! He loves it. Just, any physical touch from you makes him feel so loved, especially when alone at home. He particularly enjoys when you’re pressed up against him while reading a book or watching a movie with his arm around you. Alternatively, he enjoys your legs tossed over his thighs or his over yours.

Around the House

Now, chores. Abbacchio doesn’t like chores. He’ll do them if you ask, but he’s not gonna like it. Least favourite is laundry. He just kind of chucks his clothes on the floor in a pile until you tell him to move it or do it yourself. You can’t tell the difference between his clean clothes and dirty clothes, so you mostly let him deal with it when the pile gets big enough or he runs out of clothes.

Doesn’t hate doing the dishes, so he actually gets stuck with that since you’re doing almost everything else. If you’ve recently had the rest of the Bucci gang over, he’s less inclined to do it. Narancia and Mista both tend to be slobs, so their plates are always nasty, but he does it anyway, just complains a lot later. Nastiness aside, doing the dishes slowly becomes a therapy moment for him. Just his music, a bunch of clean dishes and pure peace.

Much like with dishes, he doesn’t hate vacuuming or dusting and will do it when asked, but doesn’t like it. Honestly, he’s not the best at vacuuming, he always misses corners and forgets to do one place, so you do most of it. 

Look, I’m not saying he’s a slob, he’s not, but he can get a little lazy, especially on his rougher days. That being said, if it’s a special day or he’s feeling a little romantic and has something planned, he’ll do everything. It won’t be perfect, but the sentiment is there. 

Sleeping

He has a very cute snore. It’s not loud or obnoxious, it’s soft and relaxed. Honestly, kind of soothing. That is IF you’re able to hear it. He usually doesn’t sleep until you do, but it’s very precious. 

Prefers being big spoon or ‘the pillow’ where you sleep on some body part of his (his thighs are exceptionally comfy and, of course, his pecs). He usually wraps one arm around you if he can, rubbing his thumb against your shoulder or forearm. 

But, one night, you got in bed late and he was already asleep, so you came up behind him, wrapping your arm around his waist then stroking his stomach softly. He’ll never let you know, but he was awake. That was the day he discovered he loved being a little spoon. He won’t fight if you happen to do it again.

Regardless, Abbacchio is clingy when he sleeps. Not bear hug, but always has an arm around you to make sure you’re there and safe. 

He gets some nightmares, of course. Doesn’t scream, just jolts awake and goes to grab a glass of water, then comes back, so it’s unlikely he’d wake you up from a deep sleep. If you are awake, ask him what he needs. Sometimes he needs you to hold him, other times he needs just some time alone, but remind him you are there for anything. If you’ve already got a glass of water next to his bed, he’s head over heels. So thankful. Might make you breakfast the next morning as a proper thank you.

Stand

What does Moody Blues think? Well, much like its user, it’s very analytical and almost cold when it comes to you, though if Abbacchio is away from you for a little longer than usual, but still in range (like being kept in a meeting too long while you’re in the car waiting) he’ll send his stand to you and help you relax a bit by letting you cuddle “Abbacchio” (the stand copying it’s user), or just let you relax with the stand itself! 

Actually, if he’s busy at home and you’re tired, MB will replay a time where you were cuddling in bed, or on the couch so you can snuggle with someone at least.