#i am liking her vibe as a crow

[alenkosx]

One of the strongest pieces on the board, but she tends to think in straight lines. → Alina de Riva.

[midnightwind]

I love Dragon Age companion quests, but sometimes I wish we had more that didn't culminate in fighting a Big Personal Bad, you know

[eff4freddie]

Play With It

Joel Miller x AFAB Reader

Explicit - Minors DNI

Your busy schedules have meant you just can't get it together, and you're starting to miss each other. Joel is finding it particularly...hard.

(AU no outbreak)

Warnings: Just some good old PWP, smut, phone sex, Joel is a menace, dirty talk, praise kink, Joel talks you through it, kind of soft pleasure-dom vibes? Please tell me if you like this, if you can't already tell I also have a praise kink, love me damnit

Words: 3.5k

Part 2 - Play With Her Part 3 - Play With Me

You just kept missing each other – literally and figuratively. If you had a late shift at the hospital, Joel had an early start on the site. If you got home to make dinner, Joel was working late. If you both managed to get home at roughly the same time, you lay on the couch next to each other in sweats and barely scraped the energy together to turn the TV off for bedtime. Your schedules were just out of whack. It happened.

But you were missing him. The fold of his crow’s feet when he smiled, the gentle little huff of effort when he bent down on his bad knee to pick up a fallen utensil, his heat behind you in bed, enveloping you and soothing your frazzled, jangling nerves. Your hindbrain was struggling to soothe itself without the weight of his body on yours. You were unmoored.

This morning was no different – you’d come home late, past midnight, tiptoeing up the stairs and slipping under the covers as gently as possible, knowing he had an early start. You were tired to the bone anyway, your knees aching from hours upon hours striding up and down hospital corridors.

You could sleep in, at least, until 10 AM the next morning. It was the one solace as you drifted off, pushing yourself against Joel’s back and winding your hands around his chest. All of this work the both of you were doing was for your future, for yours and his and Sarah’s. Within a year you should have scraped up enough for a deposit on a house. It would be worth it, even if you ached for him.

Your phone woke you, and you cracked an eye to try and gauge the time. You determined it to be half-past too early. You let it ring out. If it was important they’d leave a message.

A minute later it rang again and you fumbled for it on your bedside table just to silence it, seeing as you lifted it that it was Joel. A little scalpel of panic sliced at your insides. He never called twice unless it was important, and never during the day. What if he’d had an accident? What if he was hurt?

‘Joel?’ you asked, your voice cotton and sandpaper.

‘Hey, baby,’ he said, his voice calm, gruff, maybe a little frayed around the edges.

‘What’s happening, are you OK?’

‘M’fine, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry ya.’

‘Y’never call twice,’ you muttered, settling back down against your pillow, your eyes closing of their own volition.

‘I needed my girl,’ he said, and you noticed his tone, then, the darkness in it. You let out a little shiver, wrapped up warm and tight in your bed.

‘What are you playin’ at, Joel Miller?’ you asked, and you heard him hum in response.

‘I’m bored at work, baby,’ he said, and you could hear that he was pouting.

‘Surely you can find yourself something to do,’ you said.

‘S’why I’m callin’,’ he replied.

‘Something productive,’ you clarified, and you listened to him huff out a little laugh.

‘Baby?’ he said, his voice back down to burnt honey and salted caramel.

‘Mmm?’ you asked.

‘I wanna watch you play with it.’

Your eyes shot open, gasping. You felt the tangle of want in your belly, little tendrils reaching down your thighs to tug, tease, at your cunt.

‘Joel!’ you scolded, and you heard him snicker. ‘Aren’t you on site?’

‘Found m’self a little quiet place, out of the way.’

You didn’t respond, thoughts obliterated as your traitorous mind replayed his words on repeat in your head.  Wanna watch you play with it. Wanna watch you play with it.

‘I’m in the truck, baby,’ he said. ‘Parked way down the back. No one can see, no one can hear.’

You felt the tension in your shoulders release, slightly, but your heart was still racing and you supposed it wasn’t going to stop. Not while you could hear him gearing up to destroy you without even being in the same suburb.

‘She droolin’ for me?’ he asked, his voice gravelly and you could hear the way his breath was shaking, knew that his own pulse was thrumming so hard in his neck it was making it hard for him to breathe out the words to you.

You squirmed, rubbing your thighs together under the sheets. He knew, of course he knew the fucking filthy old man, that you were almost permanently wet for him.

‘Mmmhmm,’ you said, and you heard him groan a little, snuffle it down with a bite to his lip.

‘Fuck, baby, been thinkin’ about you all morning. Woke up with you wrapped around me like a fuckin’ koala bear, took all my strength not to roll you over and fuck up into you while you were dreamin’.’

You gasped again, struggling to hear him over the blood rushing in your ears. Joel was so stoic, used his words so carefully in real life, that you could hardly believe your luck when you got him into the bedroom for the first time and he let loose the filthiest stream of consciousness you’d ever heard. He bathed you in his dirty little fantasies, doused you in his furious want for you.

‘Can I see her?’ he asked, and suddenly you were shy.

‘Just woke up, Joel,’ you said in protest, reaching up to smooth your hair without even thinking of it.

‘Love it best first thing,’ he said, ‘when you’re all warm and soft and pliant, let me do whatever I want to ya, keep those sweet warm thighs wrapped around my ears… or my cock buried deep in that sweet little cunt of yours and have you too sleepy to tell me to quit it.’

‘Mmm…quit it,’ you said, stretching, and he snickered.

‘Too late, baby, want you too bad.’

You liked him like this, although you’d never tell him that. Liked him a little bit needy, a little bit cunt drunk, wanting you so bad he had to pull his car out back and see to himself. You sighed. You were going to do it for him, you were always going to do it for him, but sometimes you had to put up a fight just for the appearance of the thing.

‘Please, baby,’ he said, and his words were punctuated with little breathy sighs, now.

‘Wanna see you too,’ you said, bargaining, stalling for time and not sure why.

You heard his voice grow distant as he pulled the phone away from his ear, and you did the same, waiting for facetime to connect.

You held your breath, holding the phone above your face as his ancient phone camera adjusted.

Then there he was, those beautiful brown eyes you could never say to, so soulful and kind and currently blown wide with want. His hair was scruffy like he’d been tugging at it. You giggled a little when you saw him, genuinely pleased.

‘Hey baby,’ he said, grinning at you, and you watched as his dimples emerged.

‘Hi,’ you said, suddenly shy, burying half of your face in your arm.

‘My beautiful girl,’ he muttered as he gazed at you through the phone screen. ‘I’m missing you, baby.’

You nodded, humming your agreement. ‘Miss you too,’ you said.

‘She missin’ me?’ You blushed, your core pulsing the moment he came on the screen. You nodded again. ‘Show me, please, baby,’ he implored. You could never refuse him.

He waited, his eyes bright and watchful, as you positioned yourself onto your back, angling the phone to travel down your body; first the tips of your straining nipples against the light cotton of your singlet (he whimpered at this, especially as you reached down and tweaked one a little), then lifting the cotton to reveal your belly, softening in the years you had known him but confident that he loved it just the same (he cooed at it, and you thought you heard him inform your belly he wanted to nip it and then kiss it better when he got home), then down a little further, your other hand now trailing along with the lens, to the aching heat of your core (you heard his sharp intake of breath as your pussy came into view, still covered by your panties, where the gusset was darkening with your slick. ‘There she is, fuck…’ he trailed off, and you felt your clit throb at the heat in it).

‘Let me have a little peak,’ he said, his voice reverberating around your empty bedroom as it shot out of the speaker on your phone. ‘Somethin’ to get me through the day.’

You giggled, pulling hard on your underwear so that the cotton stretched over your lips, outlining them perfectly for him as he groaned. You ran your fingers over the cotton, pushing and pulling at your lips, teasing yourself as much as you were teasing him.

‘You hard for me, Joel?’ you asked, and you heard his guttural ‘uh-huh’ in response. You slipped a finger under the leg of your panties, pulling them to the side so he could inspect the pink, the slick, of your folds.

‘Oh fuck, baby,’ he said, ‘such a good girl for me.’

You preened under his praise, your clit throbbing as you fought to control your breath, determined not to let him know what he was doing to you, not to let him win. Instead, you pulled your phone back up to your face, grinning at him.

‘Hey, where’d she go?’ he asked, and you laughed.

‘You know exactly where she is.’

‘Want to see her, baby, please,’ he said again, whining now, and you saw his shoulder moving slowly, the flex of his bicep just within view of the camera.

‘Show me what you’re doing to yourself, Joel Miller,’ you said, and he grinned at you, busted. His cheeks were pink, and he was starting to glisten from sweat. You wanted to lick it off him, take the salt of him into your body.

He angled his own phone down, so that you could see he was palming himself through his jeans. He let out a little gasp at one particularly hard tug.

‘Take it out,’ you said, and he tutted, raising the camera back to his face.

‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,’ he said, and you were up on your knees in an instant, swivelling to prop the phone up against the head of the bed, balancing on a pillow, as you reared back and slipped your underwear from your skin.

You watched as he freed himself, his belt moving aside so he could reach into his pants and pull himself out over his waistband. You felt more slick gather at the top of your thighs as you gazed at it, thick and large and with a vein on the underside you loved to rub along your tongue.

‘Play with it,’ he said, and you hated that you couldn’t gaze at his cock and his face at the same time, resolved to settle for the current view for now, as beads of precum gathered at the tip. You watched as he ran his fist over the shaft, leaving the head. You knew how sensitive it was, that when you sucked on it as you pulled, gently, at his balls he couldn’t help himself but to buck himself up into your throat, grunting your name as though you would bestow him mercy. You hadn’t, yet.

‘With this?’ you asked, teasing your fingers along your glistening cunt, avoiding your clit because you were already too close, wanted to prolong it, see how crazy you could make him.

‘Fuck yeah you know with that,’ he said, his irritation real and adorable, and you grinned.

‘Tell me how,’ you said, feeling your cheeks go hot and remembering that only recently had you built up the guts to tell him you loved it the most when he encouraged you, instructed you, talked you through it.

‘Run your fingers along the outside, gather up the slick,’ he said, and you did, shivering a little both at his words and the gravelly tinge to his voice. You could see his hand trembling as he held himself, the way his cock was flexing, throbbing, for more. ‘Run your fingertip over ya little clit, tight little circles… but not too hard,’ he said, and you groaned when you touched yourself there, your stomach clenching and nearly pitching you forward, the pleasure shooting down into your legs and up into your chest. ‘Nuh uh, too hard,’ he said, and you released the pressure a little. You realised he was going to punish you for teasing him. You realised you were going to let him.

‘She feelin’ good, baby?’

‘Mmhmm’ you breathed, nodding, momentarily incapable of words.

‘I want to watch her stretch,’ he said, and you opened one eye to see that he was now tugging at himself, pulling at the skin of his cock, drooling precum and using it to lubricate the head. He was grunting a little, his breath catching as he fought to keep talking. You smiled to yourself.

‘With my hands?’ you asked, feigning innocence even as you sank down further on your knees so he could get a better view.

‘Just give her one finger f’now, don’t wanna scare her,’ he said, and you nodded. ‘She’s so tight, baby, need to be gentle with my precious little pussy.’

You gasped, rolling your head back to the ceiling as though Jesus himself might save you.

‘Oh, I want it,’ you sighed, not sure what ‘it’ even was.

‘I know, baby, I know,’ he cooed, soothing you even as he tortured you by proxy. ‘Slide one inside, let that little cunt gobble it all up, that’s the way.’ You bucked again, riding your own finger, as you whined. ‘Rub that clit baby, make it easy on her.’

You took your other hand and kept the tight little circles on your clit, whimpering all the same. You raised your eyes to him, realising now he had placed the phone on the dash so you could see his face, the naked heat in his gaze as he watched you, and you gasped at the sight of him, your cunt clenching on your fingers as a bolt of want shot through you at the sight of him.

‘Joel…’ you whimpered, called for him, and his brows furrowed.

‘I know, baby, but you can do it,’ he said, and you keened, speeding up on your clit.

‘It hurts, I want you so bad,’ you complained, and you saw the grin start to emerge on his face before he schooled it, pulled it back down to faux concern for your predicament.

‘My poor girl,’ he said, nodding at you as you saw his shoulder flex, watched as he licked at his lips, trying to stave it off so that he could continue to torture you. ‘Give her one more, let that greedy little cunt have what she wants.’

You could feel tears prickling the back of your eyes, the ache for him in your chest nearly as strong as the ache for him in your core, and you slid another finger in without any resistance, your slick leaking out to pool in your waiting palm.

‘S’good baby?’ he asked, and you nodded, then shook your head, then nodded again.

‘S’better when it’s you,’ you answered, honestly, trying to hook your fingers forward like Joel did but not having the length, not having the angle.

‘Imagine I’m right there behind ya, baby,’ he said, and even as he said it you felt heat bloom on your back. You rolled your head back again, as if his imaginary shoulder could hold it. You were dimly aware that you were swivelling your hips, fucking yourself down onto your hands, as you imagined Joel’s delicious, throbbing cock poking at the small of your back.

You could feel every nerve ending from the tips of your toes to the edge of your tongue singing for him, the sparks combining with the throb of need in your cunt. You couldn’t stop moving, couldn’t stay still, set on fire by the heat of it.

‘Look at me,’ he grunted, but you couldn’t, couldn’t coordinate your movements, couldn’t crack open your eyes, drowning in it, feeling the pull of it slip over your nose and mouth. ‘Look at me while you play with it,’ he said again, louder and a little meaner this time, and you felt yourself react almost purely on instinct, snapping to attention.

He was panting, his own hips shifting as he tugged at himself, sweat gathering now at his brow, the sides of his forehead wet. He was jutting out his bottom lip, jaw flexing as he bared his teeth to you, trying hard to stave off the pleasure while simultaneously being driven mad by it.

‘Look what that sweet little cunt does to me,’ he said, his voice dangerous now, low enough that you found yourself holding your breath. ‘You seein’ this, baby?’

You nodded, almost wanting to apologise for how thoroughly you had deranged him.

‘Such a good girl,’ he praised again, and you felt a shudder of your hips. ‘Can she take one more?’ he asked, and you nodded, without hesitation. He had done that to you, had made you so wet and so wanting, your cunt pounding so soundly now, that you would take anything he instructed you to give yourself. ‘Do it,’ he grunted, and you did, a third finger sliding in to greet the others, a yelp of beautiful agony leaving your lips.

‘Fuck…’ you muttered, breathless, winded with the pleasure. ‘I can’t…’

‘Yes you can, baby, doin’ so good,’ he said, and you were losing yourself to it now, could feel the momentum, that you were nearing the point of no return, that you wouldn’t be able to pull your fingers from your needy, stretched little pussy until you’d come on them, until Joel had made you come.

You tried to bark out a warning, that you were getting too close, that it was about to sweep you away, except that when you opened your eyes to look at him you saw that he was right there with you, that he was sucking in great billows of air to steady himself, that he was panting and sweating and gasping your name, calling for you, his head rocking backwards to the headrest of his truck, overcome by the want for you, only to immediately swing forward again to watch you, to stare at your hands between your thighs on his phone screen, his hard, bulging cock in his hands, ready to burst.

‘Oh!’ you gasped, when you saw the state he was in, and his eyes snapped from your cunt to your face.

‘I know, I know,’ he repeated, fighting for air, ‘I know, I know, I know….’

‘May I?’ you asked, as though you would have been able to hold back, as though you had a choice, and he nodded, releasing you from the torment. You felt it speed up, the peak rising up to meet you, the backdraft scorching a path through your core as it caught you, and you came, hollering for him, whimpering and huffing, shocked at the intensity of it, at the way it obliterated you, whited you out, the sound of Joel’s twin cries nearly drowned by it.

--

At some point you had collapsed, falling from your knees to your belly on the bed. You could hear Joel, buried somewhere under the pillows, whimpering as he came down from his high, and when you had recovered the strength you fished the phone out and brought it back to your face. He sat, his head thrown back in his truck, as he gathered himself.

‘Christ on a cracker,’ he said, and you giggled. It had been too long. You wanted to do it again.

‘You OK, honey?’ you asked, and you heard him huff out a laugh.

‘Made a damn mess of m’self,’ he said, and you giggled again, little fizzing joy finding your chest. You felt lighter, not having realised how heavy the burden of missing him had been.

‘You got a towel or anything?’ you asked, and he rolled his eyes.

‘No, I don’t have a towel. Didn’t expect to be doing that this morning.’

‘You didn’t plan it?’ you asked, incredulous.

‘Just got overcome,’ he said, his dimples re-emerging as he looked at you, bashful, through the phone.

‘Mmmm,’ you agreed, feeling somewhat overcome yourself.

‘What time’s your shift start tonight?’ he asked, and you felt reality encroach ever so slightly on your happiness.

‘Start my shift at 5,’ you said, and he nodded. You could see the crease in his brow as he concentrated.

‘Fuck it,’ he said, having apparently come to a decision. You watched as he reached forward, turning the engine over, and heard the truck roar to life. ‘Don’t move a muscle,’ he said, putting the truck into gear and reversing out of the lot.

‘Joel, what are you doing?’ you asked, laughing a little at the look of pure determination on his face.

‘You stay right there,’ he said to you, winding down the window and calling out – presumably to his boss – that he was feelin’ poorly and needed to head home.

‘Joel, you can’t leave in the middle of the day,’ you said, and you saw his smile as he totally ignored you.

‘Be there in fifteen minutes,’ he said, pausing for a second to gather his thoughts. ‘You got to play with it,’ he said, picking up the phone and preparing to hang up so he could drive. ‘Now it’s my turn.’

[colorfulrook]

Hi! Could I get number 77, "I waited for you. Every day." with Sung Jinwoo? If you know EPIC The Musical I was thinking Penelope Odysseus vibes.

So Jinwoo goes away to fight something or other, and it's supposed to be a short, few month trip and he leaves reader back in their home. But stuff ends up happening, and it takes him forever to get home. Like, years on end. And reader's constantly being told that they should move on and find someone else, but they're all "No he'll come back." And then BAM! Jinwoo does indeed come back. And there's a tearful reunion then everyone's happy again yay!

Maybe make it a fantasy AU where reader is a princess? And Jinwoo was fighting a rival kingdom?

Not sure how much of this you could fit into a drabble, sorry if it's too long or complicated a plot 😅

Congrats on 100 💖

BLURBFEST 100X100 - #77. "I waited for you. Every day."

I AM OFFICIALLY BACK ON BUSINESS MY DARLINGS!!! Sorry for the long wait (couldn't help myself eheh) here you are my sweet 💖Anon. Happy reading my loves - Rook

The war was meant to last three months.

Three months that would be full of bloodshed on distant borders, of hardened letters sealed with trembling wax, of counting days and hoping every knock at the door wasn’t a messenger in mourning colors, but him — the love of your life.

Three months.

It had been five years.

Your fingers trembled against the embroidery hoop you hadn’t truly worked on in hours. The thread was still tangled near the border of the lake you were stitching — the same lake where you had kissed him goodbye, where his hand had held yours with quiet strength.

“Three months,” he had whispered, brushing his lips over your brow. “Then I’ll be home. To you. Always.”

You believed him.

And even now, five years later, when every lord and lady in the kingdom tried to convince you that Sung Jinwoo — your shadowborn knight, your raven-haired guardian, your love — was nothing more than ash scattered in some faraway valley, you still believed him.

So you waited.

In the same tower chamber he used to visit in secret, before your farther gave you his blessings. In the same gardens where his gloved hand would brush yours beneath the moonlight. You sat alone at feasts and walked alone by the river, where children whispered that the princess had lost her mind to love.

And when suitors came — war heroes with gilded swords, mages with glowing hands, kings with kingdoms to offer — you turned them all away.

“He’s dead,” your advisors pleaded, a hundred times over. “Princess, he’s gone.”

“I know what I saw in his eyes,” you always answered. “He’s coming back.”

But during those long years devoid of him, the only ones who kept coming back were them — spoiled princes with sugar-slick smiles and polished boots, their words sweetened with false promises and treaties laced in greed. They pawed at your kingdom like crows at a battlefield, drawn not by love, but by the glint of a crown and the prospect of having you on their side — not as a partner, but as a pretty conquest, a prize to parade before thrones built on ambition.

And yet, you remained unclaimed. Not untouched by sorrow, but unmoved by them. Because your heart had never been theirs to win.

Sometimes, when you were alone, you let yourself whisper his name just to hear it echo. Just to remember how it felt on your lips.

You were in the garden when the earth shifted.

Not metaphorically — truly. The ground trembled beneath your feet, low and steady like something ancient was waking. Shadows flickered between rose bushes, and the sky seemed to darken even though the sun was high. Then came the shouting.

Soldiers yelling their boots hammering on stone in a panic when black knights came from the main gate of the palace. Silent like stillwater they began to kneel, creating a path from you to the gate.

You rose slowly from the bench, afraid to hope. Too much hope can destroy you.

And then you saw him.

Black armor dusted in blood and soot. A dark cloak fluttering behind him like the wings of something eternal. His eyes — violet, fierce, weary — locked on yours across the courtyard.

Jinwoo. Your Jinwoo, alive

You didn’t think. You didn’t breathe. You just ran.

Down the stone steps. Across the tiled walk. Past the gasps of servants and the cries of stunned guards. You collided with him like a crashing wave, your hands reaching up, his arms catching you with the practiced ease of a man who had dreamt of this very moment a thousand times during his long days away.

“You’re real,” you sobbed, clinging to the chestplate still warm from battle. “You’re — you’re real.” Your fingers slick with the blood on it, but damn it all, you didn't care. Because he was there.

His voice cracked like thunder and silk. “I told you I’d come home.”

Tears blurred your vision as you pulled back, cupping his face, memorizing the new lines around his mouth and the fatigue in his gaze. “I—I thought I was losing my mind. Everyone said you were gone, Jinwoo. I was supposed to move on. Marry someone. But I couldn’t—”

And that was when his hand — still calloused, still gentle — brushed your cheek.

“I waited for you,” you whispered, voice shaking. "I've been waiting and waiting and waiting" tears rolled on your cheeks. “Every day.”

He swallowed hard, and his eyes glistened. “I know. I counted every sunrise without you. I saw your face every time I closed my eyes. I wanted to come back sooner—gods, I tried—but the kingdom we fought, they had magic I’d never seen. I was trapped. Hunted. But I never gave up. Because you were waiting.”

He pressed his forehead to yours. “You were my reason.”

The crowd around you had grown, nobles and servants and soldiers standing stunned at the sight of the girl who refused to stop loving a ghost — and the ghost who had come home.

You didn’t care.

In that moment, it was only you and him. Just like it had always been.

“Come home,” you breathed. “Come back to the palace. To me.”

His smile — tired, slow, real — bloomed like the first sun after a long storm. “Lead the way, Princess.”

You took his hand. The same hand that once fit perfectly in yours by the lake.

And as you walked back toward the castle, side by side, the crowd parted like the sea before a miracle.

You were whole again. Because this time, this time he was there to stay.

[barleyo]

Rural Bliss.

Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing

Wordcount: 1.8k

!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!

Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.

Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of. 

What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon. 

Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood. 

The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them. 

"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in." 

You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't quite what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life. 

He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature. 

"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.

"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."

"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind you and flashed an apologetic look. 

"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.

He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside. 

"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."

Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.

Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.

He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.

"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness. 

His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special. 

He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements. 

What was wrong with you? 

Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.

You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.

Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend. 

You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw. 

He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in you without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.

You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.

That type of thinking brought him here. 

"Daddy, please..."

The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure. 

He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.

He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs. 

"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty." 

He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit. 

"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you." 

He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.

"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."

That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.

He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up. 

Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego. 

He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered. 

"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights. 

"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."

His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you. 

Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.

"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.

As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long. 

You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.

[imperator-kahlo]

OK what even is happening with the Crows

I’ve just been trawling through the wiki and World of Thedas for a few hours trying to figure out what we (a) know, (b) can guess, (c) can speculate wildly about the inner workings of the Crows during the Dragon age.

(I am by no means an expert on the lore so please let me know where I have wildly missed the mark).

I'm definitely not trying to propose any kind of fanon consensus, where's the fun in that?! Just trying to figure out a timeline that makes sense to me. Possibly also toying around with a pre-canon Rookanis fic.

Loooong and probably insanely disorganised text post under the cut. I should have been in bed hours ago but I am hyperfixating on this and will not sleep until I hit post.

Spoilers, so many spoilers below: Veilguard, Tevinter Nights, The Silent Grove, Origins, Awakenings, the entire franchise basically.

So, a speculative timeline. Events in black are fairly or very well supported by the lore; events in blue are inconsistent/uncertain in the lore; events in purple are guesses that I can sort of back up; events in red are me throwing a dartboard at the wall.

Note: The wiki puts the events of "Eight Little Talons" in 9:44 Dragon, but I can't find any source for that. I would have guessed a little later, but let's roll with 9:44.

Also, I'm pretty unclear on the guildmaster/grandmaster distinction. I'm just going to say 'head of house' for whoever is in charge of a Crow house, or Talon if they're head of one of the eight Talon Houses.

Blessed Age

8:70 Blessed - Caterina born (she's described as well into her 70s during Eight Little Talons and as around 80 in the data-mined character descriptions for Veilguard, so give or take a couple years this seems right).

9:00 to 9:29 Dragon: House Arainai Shenanigans

9:00 Dragon - Antivan civil war, beginning of the "much maligned" Three Queens era (Codex, History of Kirkwall - Chapter 4). Unclear exactly what happens or over what period of time, but seems like the Crows would be in the thick of things.

9:05 - 9:10 - Caterina maybe reaches Talon status (not First, though). Around 8:98 Blessed would be the absolute earliest she could get there given Teia's holds the record (youngest Talon at 28). But I think Teia was at least three or four years younger than any previous Talon so I'd put it somewhere around here, if not a few years later.

9:12 Dragon - Zevran, aged 7, is purchased from a Rialto brothel by House Arainai. The House is led by First Talon Talav Arainai and described as rolling in coin after the "Three Brides" contract - they purchase 17 other slaves that year, including Taliesen (World of Thedas, vol 2, p. 96). I think based purely on vibes that House Arainai is fairly secure in First Talon position and has been there at least a couple years, probably longer.

9:15ish Dragon - Teia born (she's described as 28 in the data-mined descriptions, but she's already a Talon in 'Eight Little Talons', which says she was the youngest ever to reach the rank at age 28. I'm assuming she got there a year or two before the events of the story. See 9:17.

9:16 Dragon - whoops, sometime over the last four years it all went to shit for Talav Arainai! The House dropped to Second Talon, and he was executed in 9:16 after trying to take back the seat of First. Isadora Arainai takes over, and the House hangs on as Second Talon... for now. Rinna joins House Arainai and immediately works well with Zevran and Taliesen under the mentorship of Eoman Arainai (World of Thedas, vol 2, p. 96). This would be the earliest that Caterina could reach First Talon, but I'm not sure I'd put it this early. I think the latest she could possible reach First would be 9:25ish based on my guesses about House Velardo (see below).

9:17 Dragon - Lucanis born (described as 36 in the data-mined character descriptions. I know I threw out those descriptions for Teia, but I think we can be pretty certain Lucanis is mid thirties).

9:17 Dragon - Teia born. I was going back through Eight Little Talons and my initial read was wrong. Teia is 28 during the events of the story.

9:24 Dragon - House Arainai, having the sort of shitty luck they absolutely deserve, falls entirely out of the rank of Talons when Second Talon Isadora dies. They wallow amongst the cuchillos (minor houses) for a few years (World of Thedas, vol 2, p. 96).

9:22 - 9:27 - House Velardo attempts to usurp First Talon from House Dellamorte? The resulting war kills all of Caterina's children and grandchildren, save Lucanis and Illario. My reasoning here is this: Lucanis says he and Illario would have ended up with Caterina to train, but being orphaned sent them to her younger than anticipated. Zevran was purchased at age 7, so we know Crow training, at least for House Arainai slaves, begins very young. Perhaps the non-slave children of influential house leaders start later, but I would guess not much. So I'm assuming they end up with Caterina sometime between ages 5 and 10?

9:25 Dragon - King Maric is thought lost at sea, but is in reality being held by Third Talon Claudio Valisti in a Crow prison on behalf of a Tevinter Magister, Aurielion Titus.

Side note: I had the same reaction to finding out the Crows have a super-fun torture prison as I did to finding out Weisshaupt has dungeons. Just... why? That feels like mission creep? Does the assassin skill set at all overlap with the prison guard skill set?

9:26 - 9:28 - Eoman takes over as head of House Arainai. He eliminates House Ferragani, which was Eighth Talon, thus clearing the way for Arainai to claw its way back into power. Unfortunately, he needs the support of Third Talon Claudio Valisti to take over the position. Valisti wants Rinna Arainai dead (cult / royal bastard reasons) and Eoman tricks Zevran and Taliesen, her lovers, into doing it. This was a very stupid decision (WoT vol 2, p. 96).

9:30 to 9:43 Dragon: Zevran's Revenge

9:30 Dragon - Zevran, depressed and angry about Rinna's death, bids for the contract on the Warden's life. House Arainai is said to have accepted this contract because they believed Loghain to be the best person to defeat the blight (WoT vol 2, p. 96).

Side note: This sort of, if you squint, reconciles the contract on the Warden's life in 9:30 with the memento found in Veilguard that says the Crows had treaties with the Wardens to fight the "next blight". But also they tried to kill the Warden-Commander in Awakenings, too. I guess one could argue a new blight was unlikely so soon but like. Come on, guys. Is your word to the Wardens worth anything or not?

9:31 - 9:34 - If Zevran survived, he comes back from Ferelden with a spring in his step and murder in his heart (and possibly a Warden on his arm) and wreaks absolute havoc on House Arainai. Eoman is first to go, then like half a dozen more of their top people. The House loses Eighth Talon and falls once more into obscurity. The Crows call Zevran (or an unnamed assassin if Zevran is dead) the "Black Shadow" and speculate that he has allies among the cuchillos (WoT vol 2, p. 96).

9:34 - 9:43 - Where the fuck is Zevran?

9:37 Dragon - Corypheus is freed (Legacy DLC). The Venatori will start to be a thing in the next few years, so Lucanis is going to pick up his nickname between now and, say 9:50 Dragon. I'd put it between 9:45 and 9:49 because of vibes (and because he talks about not immediately specialising in mages. Crows get started very young, but I dunno. I see him starting on mages in his mid twenties because, again, vibes.)

9:38 - 9:40 - Events of The Silent Grove (comic - I haven't read it in a while but I'm throwing it in here for complete-ish-ness). Alistair, Varric and Isabela break into the Crow archive and Velabanchel prison (which side note is a totally heinous operation). Isabela kills Claudio Valisti (Third Talon passes to Ezio Valisti). This, for me, raises the question again: Where the fuck is Zevran (sob). Valisti was implicated in Rinna's death, so either Zevran never found out or he couldn't get to Valisti while he was cleaning house.

9:44 Dragon - Ongoing: We're Entering Our Freedom-Fighter Era

9:44 Dragon - The events of 'Eight Little Talons'. Briefly: Caterina calls all the Talons together to plan for the imminent invasion of the Antaam, but a whole bunch of murder happens. Turns out that Fourth Talon Emil Kortez made deal with the Antaam and was trying to wipe out the Crows' leadership. He was killed by the survivors and Viago suggests--correctly, I think--that Caterina will wipe out the whole house.

The following Talons are killed but it seems like their houses will probably retain their status, with somebody else taking over as Talon:

Dante Balazar, Second

Lera Valisti, Third

Giuli Arainai, Eighth (having only just managed to lift that fucking house back up to Talonship, shame lol)

In addition to Caterina, Viago, and Teia, Sixth Talon Nero Bolivar survives, but he um, isn't much help. I would guess that Caterina, in a pretty strong alliance with Viago and Teia and with all the other Talons being new, might fuck his shit up and try to get someone more solid in before the Antaam invade?

9:44 - ongoing - WHERE THE FUCK IS ZEVRAN???? He can't have taken control of any of the eight Talon houses, because he's not at the summit in 'Eight Little Talons'-- and however much he damaged House Arainai, they've clawed back some power by 9:44. Is there a breakaway faction of cuchillo houses that Caterina won't even dignify with an acknowledgment? Is he not interested in any kind of Crow power and is just fucking shit up for them - we can assume House Valisti has had a lock on Third Talon since at least 9:28 (Claudio or Ezio Valisti pop up periodically in this position), and my guess is House de Riva have held Fifth a decent period of time, but as far as I can tell we know nothing about Second, Fourth, Sixth and Seventh Talon Houses in this period. So maybe Zev is toppling houses left, right and centre? Seems like that sort of instability might have changed Caterina's approach in 'Eight Little Talons', though...

9:51 - Lucanis imprisoned in the Ossuary.

9:51 - Antaam invasion of Antiva, starting with Treviso. The Antaam rebellion begins in 9:44 and is ongoing; the failure of Kortez in 9:44 delayed the invasion somewhat. I wouldn't have thought it would delay it this much, but I'm pretty sure that it happened while Lucanis was imprisoned, right? So since we free him in 9:52 after a year in the Ossuary, the invasion must have been delayed until 9:51? Maybe very late 9:50?

"Conclusions"

(I haven't read the comics in a bit and I know there's some Crow stuff that goes down in there beyond the Silent Grove... but as best I recall its just Teia and Viago running into Varric and Harding, and some stuff setting up Solas and the Antaam. Please let me know if I'm mistaken!)

I think it's safe to say the Crows are in chaos for pretty much the entire first half of the Dragon age: Arainai are causing chaos from 9:16 to 9:25, then they pass the torch to Velardo, whose war against House Dellamorte must have lasted a few years if it wiped out almost all of Caterina's family. Zevran is on a murder spree at least between 9:31 and 9:34, and possibly (much) longer depending on your headcanon.

After, at very best, a decade's peace, 9:44 sees the plot to wipe out the Crow leadership, which fails but does kill half the Talons and lead to the elimination of at least one, maybe two of the Talon Houses. Half a decade after that the Antaam invades.

I've been completely on board with the critiques of Veilguard's portrayal of the Crows, but I think writing it all out like this has helped me reconcile things a little bit? This is a deeply chaotic network of feuding families, and no single Talon is going to have the secure political power to make sweeping changes. Which isn't to say the child abuse that was definitely still occuring in Houses Dellamorte and de Riva during Rook and Lucanis' childhoods is just fine. But it makes more sense to me now that Houses Dellamorte, de Riva and Cantori could have wildly different ideas about slavery and torture prisons than, say Houses Arainai and Valisti--and have extremely limited power to shift the culture of competing Houses. Even the First Talon's position is deeply precarious.

Whew. Good night!

(Just realised as I was tagging that I haven't slotted The Wigmaker Job in anywhere. I thiiiiink Viago mentions in 'Eight Little Talons' that Lucanis is currently in Tevinter for a job, maybe a sly reference to Wigmaker? But I cannot possibly get sucked in any deeper, my dog is losing her entire mind at me STILL being at the computer.)

***

Waking up and editing to add: At some point in her time as a Talon (probably First but I guess maybe not?), Caterina wiped out another house so completely that Teia doesn't even recognise the name, Gaspari, when Viago mentions it in 'Eight Little Talons'. Given House Velardo was the one that made a play for First Talon, this is a whole 'nother big intra-Crows conflict that slots in somewhere on this timeline. Caterina is ruthless, y'all.

***

Editing again a few days later to report that I was flicking through WoT and spotted a WHOLE-ASS ENTRY on Claudio Valisti that I’d managed to miss. I was… not happy. I’m begging you BioWare, no more information. I cannot reconcile it.

Anyway. World of Thedas, vol 2, p 44, has Claudio Valisti taking over from his father as Eighth Talon in 9:34, quickly getting the house to Sixth Talon and appearing to be going places. This appears to contradict p. 96 of the same, which has a Third Talon Claudio Valisti helping House Arainai in 9:28, as described above.

I thought very carefully about tearing the page out, burning it, and forgetting I ever knew this particular piece of lore.

Instead I have decided fuck it, we have a father-son pair here. Senior helped out Arainai in 9:28. His house later fell to Eighth (in my incredibly unwieldy and underdeveloped headcanon this is partly because helping Arainai really pissed off Caterina). Claudio Senior dies in 9:34, Claudio Junior inherits. By the time Junior dies to Isabela in 9:38-40 he’s got the house properly back on track, so the loss of a leader doesn’t destabilise them too badly.

Ezio Valisti is Third Talon in 9:41, according to the Winter Palace announcer in Inquisition, and the house still holds the third seat in 9:44.

(Also edited Teia’s birth year from 9:15 to 9:17; I misread Eight Little Talons. She’s 28 during the events of the story.)

[deconstructthesoup]

All right, quick rundown of our new PCs:

-While Maxwell seems to be continuing Murph's D20 trend of playing doofuses (only broken by Riz in JY because, well, he was reprising his very first D20 character), it looks like he might actually be our first balance between Murph's two different types of PCs---he's a reasonable, level-headed, intelligent guy who also happens to be a bit of a clueless rich boy. Also, to my knowledge, Maxwell may be our first instance of D20 having a PC whose class itself is homebrew---not just a homebrew subclass, like Pinnochio being a Destiny warlock or Gorgug being a Barbificer... barbarian/artificer, but full-on playing a homebrew class. To that, I say hell fucking yeah.

-Olethra is, of course, continuing Ally's trend of playing the most blatantly queer character at the table, and this time, their PC is a starry-eyed transfemme with a deep sense of wanderlust. I was, sadly, wrong about her being an Armorer artificer---at least, for now, and if I had to guess, I'd say that the mech suit is so she's not at a disadvantage as the only level two character in a party of level sixes---but honestly, I'm really curious to see how Olethra's gonna level up. I don't think we've ever gotten a straight martial character from Ally before, and if Olethra doesn't take some artificer levels (or becomes an Arcane Trickster), she might be their first. (Liam doesn't count, rangers are half-casters.)

-Daisuke appears to already be beating out Lapin and Ricky for the title of "hottest Zac character," and after that incredible introduction... oh, boy, do I fucking agree. It's so fun to see Zac play a genuinely smart and crafty character, which is honestly more common than most people think---Gorgug eventually found his smarts and confidence, Lapin was... Lapin, Skip was very intelligent and just needed time to get used to being in a human body, and Pib was obviously a little scheming stinker. Seriously, though, Daisuke is a delight, I love that he's a Gunslinger, and I think we all need to appreciate the poetry of the comedy sniper actually playing a sniper. Who is also an old divorced outlaw who kills people who try to mess with his ex-step-granddaughter.

-Marya Junkova, the woman of my dreams. Once again, Emily has created a character who I will become unreasonably obsessed with, and I am not just saying that because she's spooky (my favorite D&D character asethetic) and an artificer (my favorite D&D class). I love her accent, I love her look, I love the idea of her being a happy-go-lucky adventurer who has been turned sad and cynical by trauma, and I am so fucking excited to see the lore behind the crow-thing she's gonna kill. Also, I'm all in favor of the headcanon of her being undead... mainly because my current character is also a steampunk-heavy, spooky, undead artificer with a gun and weird pets. They have a mechanical heart.

-If it weren't for Iga Lisowski, Van would be a completely different direction for Siobhan, but I am so stoked to see her play an IDGAF old woman with a sweet, supportive husband again. She's a badass, she's a bicon, and I really wanna know how she lost that arm. Not much to say about Van as of right now, I'm excited to learn more, and I can't wait for Siobhan to repeatedly wreck everyone's ears with that whistle.

-And last but not least, we have a beautiful return to the Kingston Brown vibes with Monty, who doesn't really appear to have that "chaotic entitled" energy that Lou found so appealing after playing Squak, though of course there's something to be said about him playing a famous author again. I love seeing Monty be all warm and paternal and supportive, I love how he really encapsulates the energy of your archetypical nature caster, and I love how there's a little bit of chaos wound into this big, comforting soul. Though... that being said, I do hope he's got a decent subclass under his belt. If you're not playing a Gloomstalker or doing an insane multiclass build like Siobhan did with Rosamund, rangers can be tricky.

[yrenesbrainrotss]

(🩸🥀 anon)

Not a request but an idea. Imagine reader, due to being absolutely exhausted and also being under vampire ENA's thrall, sleepwalking through the dark woods until they're in ENA's arms where they're then spirited away by her. 🥰

(Also I'm sorry if I'm spamming) 😅

(I got inspired by salesperson ENA's (dark) chuckling and it made me come up with this) 😭💖

A/N: I decided to make this a small scenario bc i love vampire ena sm, i am literally gonna make a gothic vibe playlist for her, like that haunted castle and running away from a vampire kind. I might make a part two inspired by it bc im in love with this theme. Enjoyyyyy

Snow was crunching under your heavy black leather boots, the harsh winter wind blows your thick ankle dress and your coat is unbuttoned, but you dont feel the cold prickling your soft skin, nor the increasing numbness in your feet—something was calling you and you had to find out what. A melody rang through the deserted woods, the trees resembled tall shadows looming over you, but you weren’t scared at all, in fact you felt as if the woods were familiar to you, like you visited them before in your darkest dreams..

The mist was dancing in the air and the wintery wind running through the tree branches guided you to your destination, you followed an invisible path, hypnotized. You gaze was focused on the distant tall structure in the distance, not once faltering and you step not once drifting in another direction,the song luring you deeper into the woods felt like a sugary sweet desert leaving you addicted, aching for more and for the one singing it.

You handn’t even realized you stopped walking. You reached huge concrete steps and when you lifted your head you were met with a giant castle. It’s various towers plunged through the grey clouds,ravens flying around them their loud crows sounding in the distance,the concrete walls were adorned with withered rose vines and angel and gargoyle stone resemblances. You once again felt that familiar sensation, as if you have visited this place before, but never as close as now. Then you shifted your gaze to the heavy oak door, adorned as well with iron details, it was now open and from inside the clicking of heels could be heard and the alluring melody was increasing its volume.

From the dark depths of the castle a tall figure emerged, in the dim light of the forest you could make it out to be a woman, an attractive one at that. Her imposing gaze was resting upon your form, blood red lips curling into a prideful smirk, her short dark hair was framing her ash pale skin perfectly and her black thin brows were raised in satisfaction. Entranced you stepped closer without even sparing another thought,you knew her from somewhere, a distant whisper swirled in your mind, a memory of hushed promises and soft lips grazing your cheeks suddenly rose in you.

She extended her arms in a welcoming manner as you got closed the distance between your bodies,you found yourself in her embrace ,not a thought in your head other than an uncontrollable pull towards her. She ran her black claw hand through your silky locks of hair and the other, a robotic one rested on your lower back, pulling you close to her abdomen, her pale cheek found the top of your head and released her weight on it, you closed your eyes and sighed inhaling that deep bloody scent of hers. The dark haired woman kissed your frozen cheeks and hummed before she spoke.

“ At last, you came to me my love. Welcome back.”

[takaraphoenix]

I am... I am genuinely in tears.

What. What is the... What's the point. Why. What. Why. No. Why.

I kept trying to give the retcon the benefit of the doubt, that... surely, there is a movie-specific plotline that builds up where the retcon will be a stunning reveal that makes things slot into place.

But it's just. Fully. Unrelated to the movie?

The movie is over and we are cutting to a post credit scene of Shinichi's parents where Yuusaku reveals that he has a big brother to his wife who didn't even know?

Toichi was her fucking MAGIC TEACHER. THEY HAVE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR YEARS I AM ACTIVELY BITING YOU, GOSHO-SAN.

Somehow, both these scatterbrained always absent parents not telling Shinichi about it? Okay. Yeah. Sure. I would have actually bought that because they are disasters.

But to fully retcon it so Yukiko didn't even know that Toichi and Yuusaku are twin brothers?

And, and I can not stretch this enough, to do this in a movie where it is fully irrelevant to the plot?

I might have somewhat understood if this were actually a Midnight Crow centric movie.

If we skipped on the unnecessary murder and the Heiji-centric love drama. If it was fully focused on Kaito and if the Midnight Crow played virtually any role at all in it.

If, to tie this - already big MK retcon that I hate, fyi - into the DetCo storyline by retconing Yuusaku and Toichi into twins? Somewhat maybe reasonable, perhaps. Like, a case could be made for why this would be done.

But to use the post credit scene of this fully unrelated movie to set up this huge ass plot twist for MK that will tie MK even more into the DetCo world?

So, what's the info on Movie 28. Because Movie 28 needs to be a Midnight Crow movie now. It just... needs to be. Which would be a different shade of unhinged, considering the movies have never really done the whole "connecting" part - loosely, as all DCMK canon connects, but not MCU style "and here is the post credit scene that serves no other purpose than to set up the next movie".

Like, the movie wasn't even bad? The movie was very enjoyable, very silly, very fun. And then they just slap these last two minutes on there and smack you in the face with "yeah, we are bringing Evil Undead Toichi into the DetCon verse and he is now Yuusaku's TWIN BROTHER".

I... I joked, earlier, that the love drama had telenovela vibes in this movie, but... but they fully retconned an evil twin brother in and I'm dying...

Gosho, why are you doing this. What... purpose... does this serve. Why.

And neither Shinichi nor Kaito even learn about this reveal. It's exclusively for the viewers. Why do you hurt me like this. The dumbest plot-twist I might have ever seen in my life and I've seen some shit.

[stellaspectral]

rottmnt raph deserves more love so my request is a rottmnt raphael x female reader! raph and reader are friends but she is much closer to donnie thanks to their love for books and videogames and the fact that she is pretty smart. they are always playfully teasing each other and almost always together just the two of them and raph is starting to get jealous even though he doesn’t understand why. leo is the one who notices it and he confronts raph and tells him that he has an obvious crush on reader and he should try to get closer to her or even ask her out instead of seething in silence and ruining the vibes in the room. but since leo knows that raph is both still in denial and a chicken when it comes to feelings, and that he most likely will not follow his advices, he decides to take the situation in his own hands. leo goes to donnie and pester him with questions about the reader and their relationship until donnie gives up and tells leo that the reader has had the biggest crush on raph since the first time that they met and honestly he is quite tired of hearing her lust and simp after him without doing nothing about it. so they start planning a way to force raph and reader to be alone and create the right atmosphere for them to confess to each other. they succeed and raph ends up kissing her and asking her on a first date! thank you so much, i love the way you write!

ps: i read all the chapters of sun killer and omg i can’t wait for the next one, i love the story so much! you also have amazing music taste period.

A/N: Firstly, I agree; Rise Raph definitely deserves more love! 🩷 Second, thank you so much for the lovely compliments! They mean a lot to me 😊

I hope you enjoy this story, anon! 🫶

Mission Accomplished (fluff)

❤️ ROTTMNT Raphael/Female Reader ❤️

CWs: Fluff, very mild angst, jealous Raph, mutual pining, oblivious idiots in love, meddling brothers, matchmaking shenanigans, first kiss. All characters are aged-up.

Colorful explosions detonate across the screen as you focus on your current mission of utterly annihilating your purple-clad opponent.

“Ha! Your timing is slipping, Don Tron,” you yell, sidestepping his attack. A grin splits your face as you input a complex chain of moves, ready to press your advantage with your ultimate combo. “Get ready to get wrecked!”

Your character, Azure Striker, unleashes her move. Jagged bolts of blue lightning fill the screen, culminating in a massive eruption graphic centered squarely on Donnie’s avatar, Techno-Titan. The triumphant fanfare blares from the speakers as Azure Striker poses before there’s a slow-motion replay of Techno-Titan getting absolutely demolished.

You lean back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head. “Oooh, that felt good,” you crow, glancing over at Donnie.

He lets out a long, drawn-out sigh as his fingers finally release their death grip on the controller. “Seriously? The infinite lightning juggle again?” His voice is a mixture of exasperation and grudging respect.

“Face it—you zigged when you should have zagged,” you counter. “So predictable.”

“Predictable? I baited you into that corner! You just got lucky with the input read.”

“Luck is just preparation meeting opportunity, my friend,” you say sagely, navigating the victory screen prompts. The scoreboard pops up, showing your decisive win streak for the evening. “And I am always prepared to strike.”

Donnie snorts, but a small smile plays on his lips. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, Azure ‘Prepared’ Striker. That just means my glorious comeback will be even more satisfying.” He goes back to the character select screen and highlights Techno-Titan’s purple icon. “Best two out of three?”

Your grin widens as you select Azure Striker without hesitation. “You’re on. But don’t cry when lightning strikes twice.”

He lets out a groan at your pun as the game loads the neon-drenched cyberpunk arena where the two of you will have yet another match. As the ‘READY?’ prompt appears, you prepare to make good on your taunt by beating him for the fourth time in a row in Cosmic Combat Chaos VII.

You’re so engrossed in the playful back-and-forth, the comfortable rhythm you and Donnie fall into when spending time together, that you don’t notice the presence lingering on the other side of the communal area of the lair.

But Raph notices. He always does when you and Donnie are like this. Which, lately, seems to be all the time.

He stands there, arms cross tightly over his plastron. He watches your easy laughter, the way you bump Donnie’s shoulder when you finally win the round, the way Donnie just rolls his eyes fondly. How you lean conspiratorially towards him to point out a flaw in his defense strategy. Watches Donnie respond with a technical explanation that somehow makes you laugh again.

A low growl rumbles in Raph’s chest, something tight and uncomfortable twisting in his gut. He doesn’t get it. Why does this bother him so much? You’re his friend too, right? So why does watching you hang out with Donnie, just Donnie, make his fists clench? Why does it feel like someone has shoved a hot needle into his ribs, a feeling of being on the outside, looking in—

—even though he’s standing right here.

Why does it feel like … like he’s missing out on something important? He doesn’t understand the possessive spike that jabs at him when Donnie makes you genuinely laugh, or the hollow feeling when you get deep into a conversation about some book Raph’s never even heard of. He just knows he doesn’t like it. Not one bit.

He shakes his head, trying to dislodge the feeling as he pads towards the dojo, needing to hit something. A lot. And hard. To let the familiar impact against the punching bag drown out the confusing static in his head.

A bit later, Leo finds him there. He leans casually against the doorframe, that signature smirk already in place. “Whoa there, big guy,” he drawls. “What’s got your shell in a twist? Or should I say, who?”

Raph freezes mid-swing, the momentum dying. He slowly turns, his face already flushed, brow furrowed. “What are you even talkin’ about, Leo? Nothin’s got my shell twisted. Just workin’ out some energy.”

Leo pushes off the frame, strolling into the training area. “Riiight. ‘Energy.’ The kind that mysteriously flares up every time she and Donnie do their nerd thing?” He stops a few feet from Raph. “You’re not exactly subtle, you know.”

“I am NOT jealous!” Raph explodes, the words coming out louder and harsher than intended. He gestures emphatically with a fist. “She’s my friend! Donnie’s my brother! Why would I be jealous?” But even as he says it, the lie feels thin and brittle.

“Okay, fine, you’re not jealous,” Leo concedes with exaggerated patience. “You just glower and radiate doom whenever she’s within five feet of Donnie. Totally normal friend behavior.” He waits a beat. “Seriously, Raph. You like her. A lot. Why don’t you, I don’t know, talk to her? Ask her out? Anything besides standing nearby looking like you wanna punch a hole through the space-time continuum?”

Raph freezes. Ask you out? The thought sends a jolt of panic through him. What would he even say? What if you laughed? What if you said no? What if you only saw him as the big, dumb muscle? It’s safer this way.

Even if ‘this way’ involves feeling miserable whenever you’re near Donnie.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters, finally turning away from the punching bag, refusing to meet Leo’s gaze. He brushes past his brother. “Just drop it.”

Leo watches him, the smirk finally fading into something resembling exasperation mixed with pity. “Suit yourself, hermano. But stewing in it isn’t helping anyone, least of all you.” He watches Raph leave and thinks, considering what to do next. Then, a mischievous glint sparks in his eyes, an idea forming. “If you won’t fix this … guess I’ll have to.”

Leo finds Donnie in his lab, soldering something intricate. You’d headed off to the convenience store to grab more snacks earlier, promising to bring Donnie back something that wasn’t pure sugar.

“Donnie! Dee! Donatello!” Leo slides dramatically into the lab. “We need to have a little chat.”

Donnie sighs, not looking up from his project. “If this is about re-calibrating the toaster to achieve optimal crispiness levels again, the answer is no.”

Leo huffs and flops onto one of the lab’s rolling chairs, spinning once before stopping himself with a foot on the floor. “Nope, this is way juicier. It’s about you. And our guest. Specifically, your thing with her.”

Donnie finally glances up, brows knitting. “Thing? What thing? We play games. We talk. She appreciates my intellectual discourse—unlike some people.”

Leo points a finger, grinning. “Exactly! You like her.”

Donnie immediately fumbles the soldering tool, barely catching it before it hits the floor. “What?! No—I mean—I respect her. She’s cool. Smart. Sharp sense of humor. But that doesn’t mean I like her, like her. And even if I had feelings, she’s not exactly … available.”

Leo tilts his head. “What makes you think that?”

Donnie pushes his goggles up, setting the soldering tool down with deliberate care. “It’s obvious even to me she likes Raph.”

“Wait,” Leo says, grinning. “She likes him back?!”

“Likes him back?” Donnie repeats, before pinching the bridge of nose. “I’ve known for weeks. Probably longer.” He exhales slowly. “I have received detailed analyzes of his musculature during training sessions. I have endured exhaustive hypothetical scenarios regarding potential romantic encounters. Listened to her sigh dreamily over his protective instincts more times than I can count. They are both infuriatingly inert.”

A slow, positively wicked grin spreads across Leo’s face. Oh, this is perfect. Raph likes you. Donnie says you like Raph. This whole situation is a tangled mess of oblivious pining. “Maybe what this situation needs is a little … catalyst. A nudge. To get things moving.”

Donnie narrows his eyes at his twin. “Nardo, what are you plotting?”

Leo leans forward, conspiratorially lowering his voice even though they’re alone in the lab. “Operation: Get the Big Guy the Girl! Or Operation: Stop Raph From Moping Around Like A Sad Puppy.” He shrugs. “Title’s a work in progress.”

Donnie pinches the bridge of his nose again. “Meddling in complex interpersonal emotional dynamics is statistically likely to result in catastrophic failure. Variables include Raph’s emotional density, her potential reaction to perceived manipulation, and the inherent awkwardness of forced proximity …”

“Pfft, details!” Leo waves a dismissive hand. “Look, they both like each other. You said it yourself! They’re just … stuck. We just need to create the perfect storm.”

“Perfect storm?” Donnie raises a skeptical brow. “You intend to manufacture meteorological phenomena to facilitate romantic confessions?”

“No, Donnie, a metaphorical perfect storm,” Leo clarifies, rolling his eyes. “The perfect setting. The perfect mood. Just the two of them. No distractions.” He pointedly looks around the lab, then back at Donnie. “Meaning us.”

Donnie taps a finger against his chin, the gears visibly turning. “Eliminate external stimuli … Isolate the subjects … Create a controlled environment conducive to emotional vulnerability …” A slow, calculating smile touches his lips, mirroring Leo’s mischievous one. “The hypothesis is sound.”

“Yes! See? You get it!” Leo pumps a fist. “So, what’s the plan? Fake mission? Accidental lockdown?”

“Overly complicated,” Donnie muses. “Subtlety is key. We need a scenario that feels natural yet provides ample opportunity for unguarded conversation. Perhaps a rooftop observation task?”

Leo snaps his fingers. “Ooh, I like it! Romantic city lights, feeling of seclusion. Very prime confession real estate.”

“Precisely,” Donnie agrees. “We can fabricate some low-level reconnaissance. Or—”

You return to the lair, bag filled with snacks in one hand, a drink in the other. You glance around, not seeing Donnie in the communal area anymore. So you head towards the lab, seeing the lights on and hearing voices coming from inside.

Leo leaves just as you make it to the entrance, giving you a friendly wave before he disappears elsewhere in the lair. “Okay, brought the goods!” you announce cheerfully as you enter. “Got your weird seaweed chips, and look, they had that ridiculously sour candy Raph likes!” You put the bag on a relatively clear spot on one of Donnie’s workbenches. “What were you guys chatting about?”

Donnie startles slightly, whipping his head around to face you. His eyes dart momentarily towards the doorway where Leo just vanished before settling back on you. “Ah! Yes! Snacks! Excellent procurement,” he says, maybe a little too loudly, focusing intently on the bag you placed down. He picks up the seaweed chips. “And Leo? Oh, just … the usual.” He waves a hand dismissively, already turning back to his workbench, busying himself by organizing wires that didn’t seem to need tidying.

You raise an eyebrow slightly but decide not to press further as you grab the brightly colored package from the bag. The cartoon mascot on the front looks like it’s imploding from sourness. You figured you’d track Raph down and give him his candy early. Just as you’re about to ask Donnie where he is, Leo reappears back in the lab doorway, this time with Mikey trailing behind him.

“Change of plans! Me and Miguel are heading topside. Got a lead on some weird energy fluctuations down by the docks. Sounds … electrifying.” He winks, clearly proud of his pun.

Mikey nods vigorously. “And dangerous.”

Leo slings an arm around Mikey’s shoulder. “Whatever it is, it sounds like it needs a specialist’s touch. You know, scanners, tricorders, fancy gizmos. Your department.”

Donnie sighs dramatically, though you don’t know this is all part of a plan the twins concocted. “Seriously? Energy fluctuations? Must I be dragged away from my work for every errant power surge?” He glances at his console, then back at Leo. “Fine. But if this turns out to be faulty wiring in a streetlamp again, you owe me seventeen uninterrupted hours of lab time.”

“Deal!” Leo says quickly, already herding Donnie towards the door.

“Aw, man,” you pipe up, slumping slightly. “But tonight was supposed to be movie night.” The initial excitement of your gaming victory and snack run fades, replaced by a wave of disappointment. The five of you hanging out, watching cheesy movies, was something you’d been looking forward to all day.

Leo pauses, offering a sympathetic (and slightly smug, though you don’t catch it) look. “Sorry, chica. Duty calls! Raincheck?”

Mikey adds, “We’ll be back super-fast! Probably.”

Donnie gives you a quick, almost apologetic glance before being pulled away, Leo practically shoving him out of the lab.

“Okay. Well, uh, be careful, guys,” you call out as they leave.

You’re then left in the sudden quiet. Disappointment about movie night still lingers. But then—it hits you. Donnie’s gone. Leo’s gone. Mikey’s gone. Which leaves … Your eyes widen as you look over at the bag of sour candy still sitting on Donnie’s workbench.

Just you. And Raph.

For movie night.

Suddenly, the disappointment evaporates. A nervous flutter starts in your stomach, a warmth spreading through your chest, your mind racing. Just you and Raph? Watching a movie? Alone? Would he even want to? Okay, you tell yourself. This could work. This could be … nice. Really nice, actually.

Grabbing the sour candy and your own snacks, you practically bounce out of the lab, your mission suddenly shifting from ‘shared movie night’ to ‘potential low-key hang-out with the giant turtle who makes your heart do stupid backflips’.

Now, where’s Raph?

You find Raph exactly where you expect him—in the dojo. But he’s not training. Rather, he’s sitting cross-legged against the wall, looking somewhere between zoned out and brooding. He doesn’t notice you at first.

So you do what anyone in your situation would: lob the sour candy at his chest.

It hits him with a soft thwack, bouncing and landing in his lap. He startles, looking up. Then his expression shifts from confusion to surprise to something softer—warmer—when he sees it’s you.

“I, uh, brought back up.” You hold up your own snacks, trying to sound casual, even though your pulse is anything but. “Movie night’s still on. Kind of. The others bailed, so I guess it’s just us.”

His eyes flick from the candy in his lap to your hopeful expression, and for a second, he doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you. And then—

“Yeah?” he says, voice a little rougher than usual. “Just us?”

You nod, maybe a little too eagerly. “If you’re not too busy being a broody lone wolf or whatever.”

He huffs a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, standing up slowly. “Nah. Was just … thinkin’. But, uh—yeah. Movie night sounds good.”

The awkward air that follows is heavy, but not in a bad way. You walk side-by-side back to the communal area. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You’re trying not to overthink every step, every breath, every glance you might catch from him in your peripheral vision.

You wonder if he can hear how fast your heart’s beating.

You flop onto the couch first, placing the snacks and your drink on the coffee table. Raph hesitates just a moment before sitting beside you. Not close enough to touch, but not far, either. Just close enough that you feel it. Since you got the movie ready earlier, you turn on the projector and lean back into the cushions as the screen flickers to life.

It’s the movie the five of you were supposed to watch together. Something cheesy and action-packed, full of bad one-liners and over-the-top explosions. But now, it’s just you and Raph. And he’s so aware of you next to him.

And you’re so aware of him trying not to look at you too much.

During the movie, your knees bump once—then again—and neither of you moves away. And about halfway through, Raph speaks. Almost too quietly to hear over the explosions on the screen.

“… I’m glad it’s just us.”

You look at him, your breath catching. “Yeah?”

He nods, eyes fixed on the screen like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. “I mean, I like when we all hang out. But tonight … this is nice.”

Your heart stumbles over itself, and you lean just a little closer, emboldened. “Yeah. It is.”

Another pause.

Then he finally looks at you—really looks at you—and says, voice low and uncertain, “Hey, can I tell you somethin’ kinda dumb?”

You smile. “I don’t think anything you say could be dumb.”

He grunts softly, like he doesn’t believe that, but he takes a breath, anyway. “I like you. A lot.” He pauses. “I’ve been tryin’ to say it for so long, but … but I didn’t wanna mess up what we already got.”

You blink, the warmth in your chest exploding into something bright and golden. “For the record … I like you too. A lot.”

His eyes widen, and for a split second, he looks like he just short-circuited. And then he smiles. This soft, genuine, Raph smile—like you just handed him the universe. You lean your head gently against his shoulder, and he shifts slightly to lean into you, cautious but firm, as if afraid you’ll disappear if he moves too fast.

On the screen, there’s another explosion.

But the real fireworks come when Raph, his heart thundering a rhythm against his plastron that you can almost feel, finally turns fully towards you. The flashing colors from the movie screen dance across his features, but all you can focus on are his eyes. Intense, vulnerable, and searching yours.

He lifts a hand, big and calloused, and gently—so gently—tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His knuckles brush your cheek, and the touch sends a delightful shiver racing down your spine. “So,” he starts, his voice huskier now, “is this for real?”

You nod, unable to trust your voice for a moment, a radiant, joyful smile spreading across your face. Words feel inadequate for the soaring feeling in your chest.

That silent confirmation seems to be all the encouragement he needs. He leans in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. But you don’t. You can’t. You don’t want to.

You meet him halfway, your eyes fluttering closed as your worlds tilt, colliding in the best possible way. His lips meet yours, hesitant at first. You lean into him, a soft sigh escaping you. The kiss deepens, slow and sweet and full of all the things you’ve both been too scared to say.

When you finally break apart, both a little breathless, he rests his forehead against yours. A wide, almost disbelieving grin stretches across his face, and his eyes remain closed as if he is savoring the moment. “Wow,” he breathes out, the single word laden with emotion.

You giggle. “Wow is right.”

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes again, his own shining. “So, uh,” he clears his throat, a faint blush dusting his cheeks, making him look so endearing. He scratches the back of his neck, that classic Raph gesture when he’s nervous but pushing through. “Since … since this is, y’know, real and all … I was wonderin’ if maybe … you’d wanna go on a date? With me? Like an actual one. Just us?”

The words are out, a hopeful, slightly clumsy tumble, and you can’t stop the beaming smile that spreads across your face. “A date?” you echo softly, your voice laced with playful surprise. “With the mighty Raphael Hamato? Are you sure you can handle it?”

His blush deepens, but he grins. “Pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that.”

“In that case,” you say, your voice full of warmth and certainty, “I would absolutely love to go on a date with you.”

His grin widens even more, if it’s even possible. “Awesome!” he exclaims, then visibly reigns himself in a little, though the excitement is still clear on his face. “I, uh … I’ll think of somewhere good for us to go.”

You snuggle back against his side, feeling his arm coil around you, pulling you closer this time. The movie continues to play, the hero spouting another terrible one-liner, but neither of you is really watching anymore. Eventually, the overly dramatic finale comes and goes.

“Next time,” Raph says, “I’m pickin’ the movie. Somethin’ with fewer explosions and more reasons to cuddle.”

You smirk. “Deal.”

Again, the two of you kiss. And somewhere, not too far away, a trio of turtle brothers high-five in the shadows.

Mission very much accomplished.

[craske]

*Inhale* OKAY! I can’t draw for shit so just casually imagine one of those drawings with all my ideas on it, because I have found several CRK Beast AU’s to obsess over OML!!

Cue ideas for Dejammed (also, I might be mixing it up with the beastsitting au, and actually mean that one instead? I assume whichever one I intended to speak about will be clear enough. I’m way too tired for this)

-Wizard Cookie is usually training with Shadow Milk, but let’s be real, the kids way smarter than he’s given credit for. Wizard can see the strain it puts on the jester, so he decides to practice by himself… which leads to Wizard getting really hurt, even more so because he’s underbaked, Shadow Milk comes in after and panics over his future son. (If you are both comfortable doing so and have enough energy and time, I would be beyond grateful if you could feed us with this one🙏)

-The Beasts haven’t the faintest idea how to take care of themselves. Proper diet? Never met her. Wizard decides to being Shadow Milk food… what he’s actually able to aquire or make is up to question, but hey, babybeastsitters need to feed their beasts.

-Sooo, Shadow Milk teaches Wizard magic. Probably out of boredom at first, or who knows what else, but I can imagine him getting attached after a minute. They feel oddly similar, tbh. Probably not possible, but I love the idea of Shadow Milk gifting Wizard one singular hair eye without our lil’ ice cream cookie knowing. “Why did you slump over so tired all of a sudden?” “No reason.”

-Wizard Cookie is staring daggers at the bottom of a distant bookshelf, glaring at the tiny, itty bitty enchanted puppet that’s peaking out from behind it on the floor. He’s [insert age], he doesn’t need to be watched!

-Shadow Milk catches Wizard sneaking out to gather supplies for magic, be it herbs or what not. Cue begrudging parent Shadow Milk.

-I am so beyond excited for when our beloved little Ovenbreak Trio’s backstories is revealed to relevant characters because the utter realization and pain will be glorious.

You keep being you! Rest well and take breaks when needed, quality is more than worth waiting for! Thank you for the lovely AU!

— 💼

what a delightful ask what a delightful goddamn ask, all these scenarios are so lovely!!! the possible dynamic of student-teacher between these two is something that i enjoy a lot and what you wrote was such a fun take on it AUGH!! also thank you so much for your kind words 🥺 i try to be efficient with making au stuff to share because im notoriously slow, so your words mean a lot to me

it sounds really in character for wizard to try spells on his own, he is self-taught so far after all. which can of course be pretty risky. and while one of goals for shadow milk, like other beasts, is to grow to care in the end, he would care too. would he show it? pshhh nuh uh! got a reputation to keep up, you know? [hes insufferable!!]

dont trust kids with coming up with proper diet, they will stuff you with candy. watch them both be made to begrudgingly eat their greens

getting the shadow eye is like a rite of passage LMAO i dont know if wizard cookie would be that stoked about dark moon magic leaving such a mark on him, at the same time... what a big deal! and by then shadow milk wouldve already been getting along much better with others so... hehe

just like shadow milk gets his own raisin crow to keep an eye on him, the beast doing the same is such a fun idea!! watch him be dramatic about that too, because he made them himself! youre welcome!

shadow milk vibes like the type of person who would catch the kids sneak around and encourage them because stopping them is what a responsible adult would do [that one scene from gravity falls yk??]

itd be such a fun thing to reveal to the beasts, that the witches still bake, or baked until very recently. and while im sure shadow milk knows about cookie eating thing. but thinking about that happening to the particular group of annoying pests would make him [and probably others as well?] go all :// about it

[ghost-bison]

the doctors and companions as animals that fit their vibe

nine: dolphin. i had a friend who used to say "nine scares me, he looks like a shark" and everytime it would make me grouchy. she was kinda right, though. but i think dolphin is closer. i know dolphins aren't actually that nice, but today we're mostly judging based on looks and nine most definitely has the vibe of a dolphin: gentle eyes, a huge smile, a very loud, fantastic voice, fast, cheeky and excited. oh, and a big nose as well

rose: seahorse. idk, it just fits. it's the fact that they're colourful creatures maybe, and the shape of the jaw, or also how magic they are... can't really explain it! rose just reminds me of a seahorse

mickey: tiger. it's in the face shape and those facial expressions he gets when he stands up to the doctor or anyone who goes against his beliefs, i think

jack: american black bear. not grizzly bear, not polar bear (although i did hesitate with polar bear), american black bear all the way. first, cause he's american so it's funny. second, cause bears are massive creatures and jack is tall and muscular. third, again, the head shape (which is why grizzly bear was out of the way). fourth, both are hug shaped, wild and actually dangerous

ten: fennec. do i really need to explain that one? big brown eyes, cute af, high-pitched voice and funny jaw... yeah, ten is a fennec

martha: zebra. this one i really can't explain! but i'll still try: i'm not really familiar with zebras, so idk how they behave, but they look gentle, and i've heard they're intelligent, sensitive creatures as well. which is what martha is. i think it's also in the pretty brown eyes with long lashes hihi

donna: doe. maybe some of you will be mad i didn't just say fox, or disagree cause the doe is known to be a fearful, quiet creature, and donna is absolutely none of this. but hear me out: she is gentle and when she's not screaming at the top of her lungs, there's something so soothing and ethereal about her. they are both very maternal, and red hair holds -to me- a connection to nature that no other colour does. the doe has huge brown eyes, and donna's eyes, although huge, are blue. but when you look into them, you can see a gentleness that knows no bounds and that is why i chose it as donna's animal. also the little spots on baby deer remind me of her freckles (yes i am in love with her shut up)

eleven: racoon. well... yall got stuck on the giraffe but eleven is a little shit and so is the racoon. i absolutely do not have anything deep or smart to add to this, i just feel it in my gut

river: leopard. fast, dangerous, elegant, and also the colour palette kinda fits. and! the female feline usually does all the work so that's the tea for today

amy: red panda. red hair, round face, big eyes, cute... yup, amy's a red panda for sure

rory: koala bear. they both look like they get screwed over on a daily poor little guys. gentle and slow, the koala bear is rory's perfect fit. also, they have a similar nose shape

clara: elf owl. just like that bird, clara is small, has enormous brown eyes, a cute little mouth and a sorta heart-shaped face. i think it's one of my best choices

twelve: crow. crows are smart, edgy, actually very sensitive and like to hang out with living creatures even though you often see them alone, and they're also annoying af, can't stfu, hold grudges and take their revenge. twelve is mostly all that. also if i remember correctly he seemed to relate to and like crows

missy: peregrine falcon. idk, missy does have a bird face with her long sharp nose and big blue eyes. i even think michelle gomez mentioned it in an interview (like, she compared herself to a bird. maybe i'm delirious). falcons like to prey on small defenseless animals. missy does too

bill: horse. she kinda looks like a horse i think (it sounds mean but in my head it really isn't i promise). at first i said pony but then i remembered my mum saying ponies are dumb, petty creatures. bill on the other hand is smart, sensitive and gentle. she does still have a sharp edge to her, won't hesitate to kick your arse if so deserved, even if you're a 40000000 or whatever y/o time lord who looks like your local knowledgeable cool grandpa. which is why horse is a very nice fit for bill

nardole: penguin. the choice was so easy to make cause the man is bald, bitchy, weird and kinda walks like a penguin. we love you nardole, never change

thirteen: kangaroo. i don't have a clue as to why tbf. it's the sheer adhd, also the colour for some reason fits her, and the fact that they look nice and peaceful but are actually very dangerous, destructive creatures lol

yaz: hare. another one i can't explain. just fits. yaz, to me, didn't reach her full potential as a character, but what i did notice in her was her intuitiveness and how she usually kept her guard up. reminds me of hares. not just that but also the general vibe as well

graham: beaver. graham had this cute quirky little obsession with building a home and with his "fam" and that's what beavers are known for. apart from his blue eyes that differ from the beaver's own brown ones, he also physically reminds me of a beaver. and if beavers could talk i'm certain they would sound like graham o'brien

ryan: labrador retriever. i had a labrador once, they're goofy, awkward, impulsive, friendly creatures. and just as cats show severe signs of autism and adhd, labradors absolutely display symptoms of dyspraxia, which is what ryan has. both are disoriented and clumsy. they also will do anything to protect people they love, and then be like "oh shit" cause they actually can't really fight and keep putting themselves in situations

dan: wolf. idk he just really looks like a wolf

fourteen: coyote. we're staying in the canine family for david tennant. i did want to choose something other than ten's for fourteen cause they have such a different vibe. there's something really pitiful about coyotes that fits this man perfectly. again with the high-pitched voice as well. anyway. fourteen is a coyote

fifteen: panther. fifteen is seductive, pretty, slim and smoothe af. he's also dangerous and yet you still wanna hug him don't you? yeah that's how panthers make me feel

ruby: dormouse. ruby is cute as hell, i think we can all agree on this. i chose this rodent specifically because of its slightly rounder face shape (hamster might have been more accurate but i hate hamsters so much man, ruby deserves better). she's always so stressed and jumpy as well, which is why to me a small rodent was an appropriate choice

belinda: european robin. she has the elegance of a robin, she's adorable, she's fierce and quick and physically reminds me of a little bird for some reason and that is all honestly

[viktoriaashleyyx]

Why do some of us not *hate* Tamlin?

I am pro-tamlin, not pro feylin. I would prefer Tamlin to never have to deal with the NC ever again. If SJM never types his name out again I will be happy.

Tw: light mentions to DV, SA, and Divorce.

Feyre is written in a way that makes it feel like she is intentionally manipulating us against Tamlin to justify her leaving him the way she did, and to put Rhysand up on a pedestal.

The abrupt and sloppy way SJM handled Tamlins' character assassination induced my fight or flight. Let me explain:

My parents divorced when I was 4, and I had to learn, quickly, how to interpret people's true intentions and empathize with where they are coming from vs just blindly listening to someones account of what happened. My father got custody of us and would use the same elements against my mom that Feyre uses against Tamlin. I HAVE to read between the lines or I would fall to the intentional manipulation.

"She left me so she probably cheated" "he trapped me in the house" "she has a new boyfriend so she doesn't care about you anymore" "he hit me [when I was actively TRYING to get him to hit me to sway public opinion of him]"

Everytime Feyre left for the NC, she did so kicking and screaming. Every indication Tamlin could see was that she did NOT want to go with Rhys, until he gets a letter from her saying to not come looking for her that she doesn't want to be with him. Tamlin didn't know she could read or write. Had that been my love I would assume it was a ransom note too, written by someone else. Had she actually spent 1 hr winnowing to Tamlin, tell him face to face, then winnow back (with an escort) he MIGHT have gotten the hint.

A tithe was a weird thing to use to show how cruel Tamlin is, considering how 2/3 of the night court live in constant fear, children's bones are broken for misbehaving, the CoN are trapped there. SJM really showed us that she has no political knowledge what so ever. I barely started ACOFAS and when Feyres talking about the unnatural sum of her money, my first thought is "You don't amass that level of wealth without oppressing someone." Lucien said that Tamlin would be expected to hunt down those not able to pay the tithe, but when we get to Tamlins actual actions he just said "get it together in 3 days or pay double next time". In my initial reading, I interpreted it as another mask (like how Rhysand acts). Tamlin does this due to tradition, he is expected to act a certain way, but *I felt* he had no intention of acting out what he said. It was just a line he was expected to say to send the wraith away without others expecting the same.

Feyre and Tamlin were not right for eachother because they were not eachothers mates. People can exist fine separately, and be incredibly toxic together. From page 1 we see Feyres inherent inability to empathize with anyone, she has it bad, she has to hunt, therefore her sisters don't do anything. But she also can't cook, so who was preparing the meat she brought home? It gave me "housework isn't real work" vibes. Feyre also doesn't communicate very well, which would explain why a literal mind reader was able to help her better than Tamlin was. I saw Tamlin trying but not being able to help her because he couldn't read her mind.

Feyre didn't want to be trapped in a manor for a few hours while she was displaying manic behavior, but she condoned her sisters be trapped in the HOW for 6 weeks immediately after losing their lives. She condones the treatment of the people in Hewn city and supports the literal Jim Crow laws placed against them in Velaris when all they wanted was to leave. She condones and supports trapping Nesta in HoW after the war just to force Cassain on her so Feyre can play matchmaker.

Feyre is an inherently self centered sociopath. She can read minds and still can't develop a shred of empathy.

Just leave Tamlin alone. Damn.

[starlightrosa]

Battleships

Summary: Charlie and Angel are playing a game of Battleships. But not with pen and paper. More like marker pens, and ticklish backs as their papers. Just so happens that these ticklish backs are property of Lucifer and Alastor.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Tickling, swearing, Angel Dust's unique humour, a bit of depressing talk concerning Alastor's mum (Alastor do be a mama's boy and he big sad) but mostly fluff <3

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another day in the Hazbin Hotel, and there was a very obvious mood of mischief. Ticklish mischief, to put it much more obviously. There seemed to be tickle fights breaking out every hour between Charlie and Vaggie, Niffty was running round and tormenting whichever unlucky soul was within reach with her feather duster, and even Husk was sneaking in a few underarm tickles whenever Angel Dust was too close to the bar.

It was driving two certain people in the hotel up the wall, but for two very different reasons.

Lucifer was one of the affected. He had woken up craving to be held. Or cuddled. Or tickled. Hell, the king had no idea what he wanted relating to specifics. But damn it, if he didn’t get some form of human touch in the next three minutes, then the world was going to end.

Alastor was the second affected by the ticklish mischief ravaging the halls of this rinky-dink hotel. But Alastor thought this playtime was silly. It’s Hell, who spends their afterlife trying to tickle someone else, where every day was utter torment and suffering punctuated by the wails of the eternally damned and the screams of tortured souls? That was a background noise Alastor preferred, to see lost souls drown in an ocean of failure.

But the radio demon could not dwell on his preferences. He would be busy soon, for that charming Charlie had planned a little board game tournament of sorts in an effort to build trust among the hotel patrons. A silly idea, but Alastor didn’t think there was any benefit to crushing the princess’s feelings, so he kept schtum for now.

The crazy tickling vibes from earlier seemed to have petered out. Yet in the hotel’s lobby, Angel Dust and Charlie were locked in a fierce game of something Charlie called ‘Battleship’. Their hastily drawn paper grids and pencils lay in wait, the pencils pointed at each other like military-grade weapons.

“E6.” came Charlie’s voice. Angel laughed, picking up a blue marker and putting a big ‘X’ on that coordinate.

“Missed again, twinkletoes.” Angel crowed.

“Shit. Your go.” Charlie said, waiting for Angel’s guess. The alluring arachnid sinner thought for a bit, before making his guess.

“A4.” Angel guessed. And if the loud groan from Charlie hinted anything, seems Angel had scored a point, or did something right. Alastor wasn’t quite sure how this game worked.

“Ugh, fuck! Hit.” Charlie groaned, picking up a red marker and blotting it with a crimson ‘X’. Angel pumped one of his many fists in the air, no doubt in a victorious manner, or for a quick bragging right. One of the two.

“Hot damn. I am unbeatable at this game!” the spider crowed, looking much too pleased with himself. Alastor rather thought that this game, while simple, did indeed look a bit fun. Not as fun as actually destroying something, but… close enough. And it wasn’t just the radio demon who had heard this game. Lucifer knew what Battleship was. But he didn’t dare come down, for fear of making his obvious lee mood even more obvious, and the markers Charlie and Angel were both using was sure to drive Lucifer crazy with want.

But the princess and spider sinner had seen the way both had been acting. Lucifer’s shaky and nervous demeanour, compared with Alastor trying to be aloof and uncaring like always in an effort to mask his curiosity at the game they were playing was a rather funny thing to see indeed. And Charlie made this known to Angel, with both setting up for their next game, fresh sheets of paper and newly sharpened pencils at the ready for their grids.

“We should get my dad and Alastor in on this game, Angel. I think they’d enjoy it.” Charlie whispered quietly, the princess barely masking a smile of her own. She wasn’t stupid; she knew the tells of her father in a lee mood, namely because she did mostly the same thing when she was in one herself, from the nervous glances at wiggling hands to refusing to look at anything that could even be vaguely considered as a tickle tool.

“Oh yeah? Good idea, Princess. Your dad would go for it, but how the hell are we going to get Alastor in? Does he even know this game?” Angel asked.

“I think Vaggie and me having all those tickle fights has… kind of made my dad want something similar, if he hasn’t been wanting to be tickled since he woke up. Alastor is always smiling, but he needs a genuine smile. So here’s my plan…” the princess said, highlighting the fun parts, while Angel listened carefully.

“We’re gonna make them our game boards. You and me, Battleships. Red marks for hit, blue marks for miss. I know my dad has a ticklish back. I don’t know for Alastor. I know he’s ticklish, but he would never say where. So let’s have some fun with this.” Charlie giggled. Angel had a hint of mischief in his own mismatched eyes. This was going to be entertaining.

Late afternoon soon gave way to evening, and as the moon came up into the crimson sky of Pride, the pentagram sun descending down for another day’s end, Alastor and Lucifer finally came into the hotel’s game room, seeing paper and pens dotted about. Alastor sent a barely disguised joyful look at Lucifer’s muffled whine, seeing so many markers strewn over the room.

“Ah! There you guys are. We’re just about to get started. Me and Angel are gonna play Battleships.” Charlie explained, gesturing to them both to sit on the floor, which both men did happily. Lucifer watched Charlie draw her grid, while Alastor was on Team Angel, watching the spider scribble his own grid.

“Why do we need to be witnesses for this? This seems just like a two-player duel.” Alastor pointed out. His question did have merit, and Charlie barely concealed a laugh as she quickly screwed her paper up and tackled Lucifer to the floor. Before Alastor could even laugh at the daughter of the king taking down the monarch so fucking easily, a similar weight slammed into the radio demon’s own back. Alastor gasped and fell forward, twisting his head quickly to see what the fuck had happened, only to see Angel’s grinning face above him. Oh, those cheeky little shits.

“Angel, what is the meaning of this?!” Alastor demanded, doing his best to wriggle. But his demands were silenced, because with a brisk snap of Charlie’s slender fingers, golden rope twisted gently around Alastor and Lucifer’s wrists, tugging both pairs of hands up and out of the way.

“Sorry, Smiles. Me and Princess Charlie are gonna play our game of Battleship. You and FancyPants over there get to be our game boards, so yay for you guys~!” Angel explained, a wide smirk on the spider’s features as he took a seat on the back of Alastor’s thighs, Charlie doing the same with her father.

Both Charlie and Angel worked to quickly pull the jacket off each of them, and rolled their shirts up, exposing the skin underneath. Lucifer’s porcelain-white back awaited Charlie, the king already shivering with barely-repressed laughter, and Alastor’s scarred back was presented to Angel.

So many scars, hot damn. Angel traced a couple of the thicker ones absentmindedly, to a choked back snort from Alastor. Well, this was not how the Radio Demon expected the night to go. One could definitely confirm that this was NOT on the bingo card.

“Hah, ya sound like Fat Nuggets.” Angel teased, referencing his beloved pet pig, smirking down at Alastor.

“Oh shut up- Mmph!” Alastor began to demand, but he snapped his mouth shut as he felt the cold tip of a marker gently trace on his back. From what he could feel, Angel seemed to be drawing a grid of sorts. Charlie seemed to be doing the same, and judging from the noises opposite, Lucifer was already giggling and doing his best not to squirm.

“Oh, you got a ticklish back, do ya Smiley? Shit, how the hell are you gonna last this game?” Angel laughed.

“I ahaham gohoing to dehestroy yohohou ahand thehen-!” Alastor threatened, but his threat was cut off by a shrill squeal from Lucifer, and then rapid pounding as the king’s boots hit the floor rapidly, the king giggling freely. Alastor knew his back to be fairly ticklish, but by the sounds of it, Lucifer’s had to be far worse. The thought of that almost made him feel bad for the king. Almost.

Charlie and Angel rested their markers down on each side of their ‘game boards’. Red and blue, one on each side. Both Lucifer and Alastor’s backs were drawn on to mimic a Battleships grid, from letters A to J, and numbers 1 to 10.

“You’re goin’ down, princess.” Angel laughed. Charlie sent a mischief-laced smile back his way to the spider sinner.

“In your dreams, Dust.”

And with the fighting words out of the way, the game officially began. Charlie had the first call, at Angel’s insistence. Or as Angel put it, “Ladies first and all that shit.”

“C3.”

Angel located the spot – at the top left side of Alastor’s back. He poked softly, and pinched a few times. No reaction from the Radio Demon, not even a wobbling smirk. With a disappointed tut, he picked his blue marker and drew an ‘X’ into that spot on Alastor’s back.

“Miss. In return… F2.”

Charlie nodded, finding that spot – top middle of her father’s back, at the top of his spine. She pinched that spot and poked softly. Lucifer gasped and broke into squeaky giggles. Because his hands were tied up, as were Alastor’s, the king nor the radio demon could even dream of moving.

“Hit! Nice, Angel.” Charlie smiled, picking up her red marker and drawing a red ‘X’ into that spot. “My go. Umm… I’ll say H9.”

Angel nodded and looked down at Alastor, noticing the eternal smile now had some kind of nervous look to it. Angel pinched at the annotated spot on Alastor’s back, enjoying the radio demon struggle under the spider.

“Damn, nice shot Princess!” Angel laughed. “Looks like he’s ticklish as fuck here.”

“Angel, I’ll kihihill yohoHOU! Stohohohahap ihihit!” Alastor tittered, squirming side to side. Angel Dust couldn’t help but laugh, grabbing the scruff of Alastor’s collared shirt to avoid being tossed off.

“Jesus, it’s like I’m on one of those bucking bulls in the bars downtown.” Angel joked, steadying himself atop Alastor’s back with a few ruthless side squeezes before the demon could get a chance to throw him off.

“AH! Ahahangel, I’m gohohoing to rihihip yohohour tongue ohohout!”

“Stop laughing first, Smiles.” Angel shot back. “Oh wait. Ya can’t, cause you’re too ticklish~!”

“Alastor, you aren’t in a position to make threats anyway.” Charlie teased, as she awaited Angel’s next guess.

“Let’s go for D1.” the spider guessed. Charlie found the spot quite easily, anyway, unleashing another series of quick fire pokes. Sadly, nothing from Lucifer despite the huge lee mood that plagued the king.

“A-Ah… oh good, I’m okay.” Lucifer whispered, shoving down his smile.

“Missed, Angel.” Charlie said.

“Ah, fuck. Well, if I missed him, I gotta kiss him. Pucker up, Daddy Morningstar~” Angel joked, enjoying Alastor’s muffled snickering and Lucifer’s panicked babbling at that idea.

“I don’t think my mother would appreciate that, Angel.” Charlie laughed, the melody of laughter in the room bringing a huge smile to her face. It was nice to see everyone enjoy themselves. “My go. So let’s try one spot up. H8.”

“Real original.” Angel joked with a playful eye-roll, even as he moved one square up and pinched and poked that spot on Alastor’s back. Alastor couldn’t help it, and a deer’s squeaking noise left his mouth.

“Nice, Charlie. Hit!” Angel announced, drawing a red ‘X’ into that spot on Alastor’s back, which Alastor would argue tickled more than the actual poking bit itself. And the fact that Angel was very slow in drawing the crosses themselves just made everything that much more maddening.

Lucifer and Alastor would never admit it, but both men were actually having some semblance of fun. Lucifer was happy his daughter involved him in this game, even if it was at his expense.

Alastor did enjoy the fun and mischief this place offered. In a way, this was probably something his mother would have done, had they both been still alive. Alastor’s heart ached painfully at the thought she was in Heaven and he couldn’t see her, or talk to her, or to be held in her arms a final time.

By the time this fierce round of Battleships ended, both Lucifer and Alastor’s backs were covered in a plethora of red and blue crosses. Alastor had red dotting both his top and lower back, and blue in the middle.

Lucifer had many more red crosses, and only a smattering of blue marks over his obviously very ticklish back. Both men were panting slightly by the time the game was finally over.

“Well, this was fun.” Charlie smiled. Angel nodded.

“Aw hell yeah, toots. We have to do this again.” Angel smiled.

Alastor was quick to loudly protest. “NO!! Not again, I forbid it and-!”

But a series of skittering fingers along his upper back shut the radio demon down quickly, and Alastor was floored, his normally reserved laughter giving way to squeaky giggling. Oddly adorable.

“Round two, Angel~?” Charlie asked with a smirk. Angel’s mischievous grin clawed its way back onto his face.

“You read my mind, Princess.” Angel responded sweetly, both princess and sinner looking at Lucifer and Alastor with a shared evil grin. And after the necessary cleaning time to wipe the grid off Lucifer and Alastor’s backs (only for the grid to be drawn back on each of them) the laughter from the hotel carried on well into the wee hours of the morning, the battleship duels between Charlie and Angel Dust raging on.

The End!

[artemx746]

I just read the first Nevermoor book and I really liked it! So b4 I go into Wundersmith, here are some of my thoughts (spoilers for the first book ahead, go read it)

I love the entire vibe of this book, I’m not sure how to describe it but there’s something about everything that just really appeals to me

[nearly every character] my beloved

Every scene with Jupiter and Mog makes me ill, the only reason Jupiter was away so often was because Jessica Townsend knew it would kill me if there were any more /j

Related to the last point: i require at least one (1) forehead kiss from Jupiter to Mog

Fuck Corvus Crow. All my homies hate Corvus Crow.

Hawthorne's a fun guy, it feels nice that he and Mog aren't shoehorned into a romantic subplot. Low bar but I'm tired of the first character of the opposite gender of mc and mc's age being forced into a romance

Mog and Jacks fighting is 100 percent accurate for cousins. Like it's concerningly similar to how my sister and our older cousin would've acted around each other when she was Mog's age

I love Ezra's vibes, like yes b call yourself a god in front of this little girl while you're in disguise. Horrible person? yes. Vibes? Immaculate

Tangentially related, my brain knew Ezra Squall was probably evil but I fully thought Mr. Jones was just in love with him which I find so funny now

Cadence is very fascinating to me, I want to study her in lab /pos

Listen I’m not saying Mog should’ve taken Ezra’s offer but I am very curious what would happen if she did

unfortunately I am having a mental battle trying to decide whether Ezra or Jupiter is my fav oops

[the-dragon-girl-27]

Remember those other 3 times I turned sekai characters into dinos (L/N MMJ VBS) I'm back with more of that crap i know Wanshow fans just looove their AUs so maybe this will appeal to a whole 3 people instead of 2 people this time

explanation for my picks below the cut

Tsukasa is a Styracosaurus because I made Saki a Stellosaurus which is another ceratopsian and also its frill is like vaguely star shaped kinda sorta not really

I don't have much to say about him so can i just mention how awful that Stellasaurus drawing is.

Yeah only recently did i start figuring out how the fuck to draw decent ceratopsians I am so sorry (the struggle is real i almost accidentally gave tsukasa 2 left feet here i swear i know what i'm doing)

I should redo that Saki at some point, girl deserves so much better than that wonkey crap. speaking of ceratopsians i opted out of giving him protofeathers unlike Saki idk they just didn't look right on him you can kinda go either way with most ceratopsians so i just do it when the vibe fits and don't when the vibe doesn't fit

Rui is a Troodon because Troodons are often associated with intelligence because they have the biggest brain to skull ratio of any dino, there's kinda no real way to know how intelligent dinos were but troodon just has the reputation of the smart dinosaur and people often depict them using tools like how crows do and that's like kinda like how rui does robot stuff, he also just fits the raptor shape sorta i feel like raptors have that sorta look to them that is like a similar vibe to the one Rui has, even tho Rui is the tallest character in sekai I feel like he's a mid sized dinosaur, does that make sense? no, but it does to me and i make the rules he's also 100% a feathered dino so it fits

Speaking of Troodon all you 2 paleo nerds reading this are getting war flashbacks from the name Troodon because Troodon itself has a interesting history of being a "wastebasket taxon" which is nerd talk for "scientists just threw a bunch of vaguely similar animals into this one category and didn't consider that maybe this was like 5 different animals and what would be the long term consequences of doing that" yes this is a thing that has happened enough times that there is a word for it

that shit still as of now isn't sorted out I don't think, I at least based my Troodon off the big one from Alaska that literally does not have a fucking name and is just like "the Alaska Troodon". I feel like the size fits and imma be real its the Troodon you see everywhere in media these days because its big and cool and it lived with Pachyrhinosaurus and Nanuqsaurus and also people like it cuz drawing dinosaurs in the snow is fucking awesome (boom i just tricked you into learning paleontology history)

Emu is an Archeopteryx because Emu is supposed to be like a phoenix and Archeopteryx could probably fly or glide or smth it's general considered like "the first bird" so like yeah (now that i think about it i could've made her pyroraptor cuz of the name but also she doesn't fit the vibes of a raptor at all i guess pyroraptor has the whole fire bird thing from its name) Emu would also be a small feathered dinosaur for sure so it fits in that sense too.

Nene is a Stegosaurus because the plates kinda look like her hair thing and her outfit in general and i feel like nene would have those tail spikes for some reason idk it just fits her energy, she'd def be a herbivore as well i feel. Also i personally just associate stegosaurus with the color green personally idk why (at first i was thinking she would be iguanodon because that's another dinosaur that's green in my head but she has like nothing in common with iguanodon lmao)

I guess nenerobo would be an Ankylosaurus than because that would like probably be the logical robot version of a stegosaurus maybe idk would nenerobo exist in this universe, you decide idk

i guess next one is that last one unless i wanna redo the vocaloids in this style or redraw saki at some point or whatever see you whenever that happens in however long it takes