#i just drew some random monsters

[yakutarts]

Nightmare and Dream but feral, non-skeletal body!

For the love of god PLEASE click on the image for better quality + close ups and clothed version under the cut!!

Would you kiss them?

Video process:

I made these using a specific context

A while ages ago I drew and posted a drawing of Nightmare and Dream on their light ball form but with some alterations/personal headcanons.

On the post, I expressed my desire to draw the twins in a universe were Nim didn’t need to give them bodies, and just let them grow naturally. And specifically give them an animalistic appearance, instead of a humanoid one like most artist do.

You can see on the process video that it took me 1000 sketches to make something that looked good and I was happy with, the video is obviously sped up, the total time it took me to make this was 28 hours and 15 minutes.

Now explaining some things:

Why are they so big?

I read on a post made by Joku that Nim, before giving them skeleton bodies, tried to make them human ones, but the pure amount of magic and power the twins had made the human bodies explode or some shit. So she picked skeletons since the magic could flow freely through the bones without being confined by muscle and flesh. That made me think if their power had physical forms, it would be gigantic. So I gave them gigantic forms to better represent their status of strength and power, beings made from raw magic to serve as guardians of all emotions throughout the multiverse, of course I needed to make them big and intimidating!

Why the horns?

Artistic design choice, I gave them little horns and a chubby tail in their light ball form to purposefully make them more animalistic, wanted to keep it while making these. Also just giving them a smooth head with nothing much going on looked weird and boring.

Why the draconian look?

Dragons had been created and depicted as symbols of pure power above humanity and worshipped as deities throughout several cultures around the world, different depictions of dragons has been one of the only things present among almost all cultures, like a default folklore creature. While I tried to incorporate other mythical creatures in the design, the draconic body plan felt more right due to the influence of dragons on human beliefs, and their representation as magical and powerful beings beyond human comprehension. Plus I just really love drawing dragons.

Why the clothing choice? Also why is Dream half naked while Nightmare has everything covered?

While designing the clothes for Nightmare, I used as reference clothing that usually royalty would wear, Nightmare has a really big ego and sees himself as a king, so he uses fancy, expensive clothing and jewelry, adapted and designed for his anatomy. Not practical for battle, but his corruption can go through the fabric without damaging it, and most people and monsters just run when they see him, so he doesn’t worry about it getting dirty or tearing, Nightmare just expects every soul to instantly submit when they see him, so he never worries about getting into a battle and getting dirty he has that big of an ego.

Dream is the opposite, his style of clothing much more practical for running, jumping, flying, fighting and general exercise. He has 4 bags in total, 2 on each side, inside them he keeps several items, be it healing food, magical artifacts, first aid kit, gifts he receives, stuff he buys or random things he finds and wants to take home with him. Dream’s crown is now a colar couldn’t figure out how to make it work with the head shape and horns, his cape is from his official design, but changed to white, was planning to make it yellow but when I looked at it my eyes hurt because there was too much yellow everywhere. I made Dream’s clothes with the intent to match his official design, I didn’t to the same for nightmare because a turtle neck with a hoodie on a dragon would make him more huggable than intimidating. Plus I like to think that the leg warmers was a gift from Blue, and the ring on his horn a gift from Ink. Didn’t add more stuff on him because I couldn’t think of something that would look good and match Dream’s vibe, the rest of his clothes on his official design didn’t translate well here. Oh, while I was drawing this, I drew the colar and the leg warmers first, without the cape, Dream looked like a twink with a pet play kink.

Side note; neither Nightmare or Dream see the use of clothes as a necessity or as decency. For them clothes are nothing but pure decoration and to show off status for Nightmare, they can wear full body suits, partial clothing, just jewelry, or nothing at all, which is what they usually go for when at home, wearing or not wearing stuff doesn’t make that much of a difference to them at all.

Do they act as animals or do they have human intelligence?

Despite me using the word “feral” all the time to describe them, they do not actually act as animals. I’m only using “feral” to describe their body/anatomy, Nightmare and Dream are fully sentient and have human level intelligence/awareness. They are capable of speech and have opposable thumbs on their front paws, they can grab, write, hold… do anything a human can do with their hands with dexterity. But they do have to use only hand one at a time, and balance themselves with the other. To use both hands, they have to be sitting, or be supported by something, they can balance themselves on their wings if they have to.

And now contradicting what I just said, they have some animalistic behaviors. The twins can growl, purr and roar. Despite Nightmare being able to use his tentacles and Dream being able to shoot magic arrows out of his wings, they to also scratch and bite while fighting. Since they are big and heavy, they can easily crush bone under their weight and their bite force is strong enough to split someone in half. If you need a reference, just use Smaug from The Hobbit, he has more or less the balance of animal behavior and human intelligence I’m looking for.

Expanding more on this, the twins stretch just like felines, and often sleep in positions usually cats sleep in (they don’t actually need to sleep but do anyway). Dream likes to go fishing, and by fishing I mean jumping in a lake and chasing the fish underwater. He finds it more fun than sitting around and waiting for the fish to come to you instead.

I guess you count their lack of necessity to wear clothes as animal logic too?

_________________

If you have any more questions about them, I will be happy to answer!

And yes, I do plan on making more drawings of Nightmare and Dream on this form!

Dreamtale belongs to @jokublog

Feral concept/design by @yakutarts (me)

[kabr0ztrousers]

fem reader finds a mysterious book that summons different monsters or creatures that takes care of human needs and reader chooses to summon the demon and they have sex and make out thats all-

ima be butterfly anon 🦋 so you know that it's me as I will be requesting more in the future.

You can absolutely claim 🦋 if you like, and I do love an opportunity to make another demon. Now without further ado, here's

Kabr0z Writes Episode 33: The book

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: Excessive cum; demon summoning; long preamble; monstrous genitalia; butt stuff

A/N: This is the last ask at time of writing, so if you have an idea for something you wanna see, or just want to call me a perv, please reach out! I feed on engagement, after all

##################################

Antiques filled your flat. Mostly worthless tchotchkes, the odd chair or end table missing the rest of some hypothetical set, one particular lamp constructed mostly from a taxidermised heron. You loved them all, but most of all your carefully climate-controlled bookshelf. Your collection wasn't particularly valuable; there weren't many first editions amongst the ranks and what you had were in pretty uniformly terrible condition. The spoils of estate auctions and charity shops.

This time was different. You weren't going to be in Bristol long, so decided to stroll down the alleys of the older parts of the city, far from the university students and the train stations. This shop was barely a hole in the wall. It was only about twice as wide as its own doorway, but it went deeper than made sense. Crowded on all sides with stacks and shelves of books, mostly well-thumbed paperbacks with peeling spines or the odd book of fairy stories from the 60s or 70s, more penguins than you could shake a stick at. One in particular caught your eye. Leather bound, stained a deep royal purple, and with an embossed sigil on the spine. 'The Book of Creatures and Calling' You hadn't heard of this work, and couldn't find any author or attributions on the first few pages. It looked handwritten, a flowing looping hand filling the work in neat, dense rows of text and painstakingly drawn diagrams.

You put it atop the pile of volumes you carried and bought your haul. Vintage copies of Grimm's Fairy Stories, Robin Hood, Tales of Arabian Nights, and that book.

You got home and put away your haul, minus the oddball. That you set about reading, googling passages from it and trying to get some inkling on who wrote it, was it published, or did you just wind up with a random manuscript?

The internet, predictably, produced nothing of use. The book seems never to have been published, or at least nobody had put any parts of it on the web. It was fascinating at any rate. Step by step directions for calling forth all manner of creatures, even organised by difficulty with simpler rituals at the start, and the more daunting ones near the end.

You opted for a simple one to start. A brownie. You drew the circle and left out offerings and a worn-out pair of shoes then went to bed.

When you checked the ritual in the morning, the offerings were gone, and the shoes were as good as new. Better, in fact.

You realised what you had. An honest-to-god grimoire. And you've successfully summoned a faerie.

You checked the book again, making sure to read and re-read every sentence. The compact was simple, the offerings were to pay the faerie back for coming and fixing a broken thing. You didn't owe it anything more, and a pair of shoes was specifically recommended as an example of 'a broken thing'. You sighed in relief. The last thing you needed was to owe something a debt.

Over the next few weeks you tried tougher summons, and got more confident in your abilities. You called forth a dryad who gave you some fruit in return for a song, a walking broom who cleaned your flat, even a golden goose once, though it didn't lay anything for you.

The day you really found the potential of the book came later. You'd been drinking pretty heavily, your boyfriend had just walked out on you. Wine and ice cream wasn't cutting it, you needed something more substantial. You reached for the book and turned to the last summon. An incubus. For the low, low price of a sliver of your soul, you could get the best fuck of your life. You shrugged and finished your wine. Worth it.

The ritual was much more complex. Carefully tracing sigils within sigils, lighting candles and incense, making sure that the protection and binding spells were perfect (It would be disastrous if they failed) before using a kitchen knife to cut a slit into your fingertip.

A single drop of blood welled up from your finger, then lifted off it, drifting to the centre of the ritual. A smell of iron joined the sweet incense and paraffin in the air. The candles flickered for a moment, and he appeared.

He was tall, brass-skinned, and well dressed. He wore a pair of tight black leather trousers and a black silk waistcoat, covered in brocade embroidered in fine gold thread. His feet, each toe tipped with a knifelike black claw, were bare and in a pointe stance about an inch above the floor. The burnished metallic skin of his arms and face reflected the soft candlelight, sending fluid reflections across your walls as he took in his surroundings. Atop his head were a pair of black horns, twisting out, then in, then straight up. His hair was the same metal as his face, a coif of impossibly thin brass wire. His eyes were the only part of him that wasn't polished metal or charred bone, black scleras surrounded glowing red irises and horizontally slitted pupils.

"A professional job, well done young summoner" His features twisted to a smile, revealing silver teeth and a forked silver tongue "I can see you know your craft"

The book had warned you about this, that he would try to beguile you, twist you into agreeing to something you didn't want. You wordlessly proferred a scroll to him. A contract. It was carefully worded: no verbal contracts would be binding for the rest of his time with you, he would give you an evening of carnal delight, and in return he would get a sliver of your soul equivalent to an hour at the end of your lifespan.

The demon read the document, and laughed "I'm not used to you people being so well prepared. Very well. An hour of your life, taken from the very end, in return for my services for the evening. This ought to be fun." He bowed deeply "I am Kamilik, lesser demon in service to Simizel and denizen of the Ashen Pit"

You told him your name, being careful to phrase it as how he could address you, which only made him chuckle further.

Once you had both signed the document, you led him to your bedroom. Your hands shook as you started to undress for the creature you had invited in to your home. He touched your waist, and stroked your hair. He must've been able to smell the wine on your breath as he pulled you towards him, easing off your top and expertly unfastening your bra, casting the garments into the corner of the room. He sat on the bed and pulled you on top of him, one clawed hand on your back, the other cupping your face before he drew you into a kiss.

His breath smelled of metal, and his skin was hot, but his lips were soft as you melted into his arms. Sat on his lap, eyes closed and running your hands through each others hair, feeling one another's bodies. You unfastened his waistcoat and he pulled it off, keeping one hand on you, then the other, never breaking the kiss.

It was like making out with a radiator, if the radiator was soft and receptive to the touch. You pushed your tongue into his mouth and he gently sucked on it, the heat even more intense, but never painful. Then his tongue entered your mouth, the forked muscle flitting in, tasting like how a 9-volt feels. You gasped with surprise at the sensation, but relaxed into it as his needle-sharp claws drew intricate patterns on your back. You pressed yourself against him, feeling your tits flatten on his burnished chest and enjoying the warm wetness spreading between your legs.

You pulled away, and knelt off the side of the bed. You yanked his waistband down, before he cut a slit down his trousers and they burned away, leaving him nude on the bed in front of you. His cock was fleshy and vascular, red veins criss-crossed pale flesh, coming to a gentle point at the end. You admired it for a moment, before taking it in one hand and jerking it. You heard him sigh as your hand pumped his shaft, even more so when you started to lick and suck on his balls. You felt a drop of precum start to leak from him, getting on your hand. You pressed a fingertip against his brass asshole, intending to gently work it in, but his eager butt swallowed it up to your knuckle with no resistance. You curled it up and touched his prostate.

You heard him groan and felt his cock pulse in your hand. He was cumming already. You felt drops of hot liquid on your face and pulled away, watching him pump a fountain of golden cum into the air. Eventually the pulsing stopped, your hand was coated in the hot, sticky gold liquid. He wasn't going soft

"I'm a demon. We're done when you say we are"

You smiled, this is going to be fun. You reached into your bedside drawer and produced a toy, long and curved, designed to seek out a man's prostate and press against it mercilessly. You pushed it up the demon. As soon as it found its mark, he started spurting again. This time you were ready.

You pushed the cock into your mouth, gripping his pulsating balls in one hand and rattling the toy inside him with the other. He filled your mouth almost immediately, and you gulped him down.

Your cunt was starting to tingle in anticipation, but you wanted to indulge yourself a little more like this. You bobbed your head, taking in the warming cum and the demon's moans and gasps as pleasure turned to pain and back to pleasure. Every few dips you'd push his tip into your throat, causing him to spurt harder and cry out louder.

You eased up on the toy, the flow slowed but didn't stop as you pulled his cock, twitching and leaking, out of your mouth. The demon was already lying flat on his back, hands either side of him, clenching his fists against the shaking. You straddled his cock and started rocking back and forth on it, adding his cum to the lubrication on your pussy before pushing him in.

He felt bigger on the inside, the pulsing mass of flesh pumping cum into you already. You started to ride him. Every rock of your hips spilled cum out of you. You leant forwards to work his frenulum inside you. His face screwed up as he grabbed you. The sharp nails on his hands marking your skin, but not cutting. You couldn't reach the toy pressed against his orgasm button, but that wasn't stopping him now. Every thrust into you, every roll of your hips, every touch of your hands on his skin made him spurt more and more into you until it was flowing out of you and onto the bedsheets. You pushed a hand between your distended belly and his twitching one, pressing against your clit for only a moment before you gasped and realised your oen climax.

You bucked harder against him, your abs pushing and pussy clenching. He came even harder, cum squirting out of you. He released you and you leant back. His cock was against your g-spot now and still spraying that hot cum into you. You grabbed the toy and fucked his ass with it. He screamed as you punished his rear, riding his cock into you and you orgasmic clenching redoubled as you came again. Your belly bounced on him almost comically, full of the golden semen he seemed to have an endless supply of.

You pulled out the toy and slumped forwards onto him, spent.

He kissed your lips again, and you kissed him back.

You grinned "Give me ten minutes, then round 2?"

He chucked "Whatever you want"

#####################################

Post script: Once again, my ask box runneth dry! Please, oh reader, toss an idea to your Kabr0z and something will likely come of it!

[0strawberrysorbet0]

𝐴 ℎ𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟

𝐻𝑎𝑧𝑏𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑙 𝑥 𝑀𝑎𝑙𝑒!𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

This is a series so if you'd like to be tagged simply just comment!

Not too happy with this chapter but hope it's good enough 😕

Please do not use/steal my work on this site or any other! Reblogs and likes are appreciated greatly!!

Part one ← Part two → Part three

Summary: When Charlie is called to heaven for a meeting instead of her father she is ecstatic but she meets a boy with some very familiar features..

Warnings: cursing, Adam mentioned, rlly weird layout, idk what else, probs spelling mistakes and weird grammer

Where am I??" Was the only thought coursing through the boy's mind?

He couldn't hear anything but his thoughts, everything else was muffled as if he was underwater, he strolled mindlessly throughout the forest, there were lush plants and exotic flowers of every tone and shape.

He could see birds and insects, things they did not have in his new home...

As he walked forward, it was like he was being pulled, like he didn't control it...

He heard a voice call for him...

"ƙׁׅյׁׅ݊ꪀյׁׅժׁׅ݊ᝯׁׅ֒꯱ dear?? Where-" was all he heard, voice silencing before he heard a yell...

He couldn't make out words but he heard a male's voice shout, who were they shouting for??

As he stumbled through the thicker, darker patch of forest he reached a tree, an apple, sparkling and juicy, shaped like a heart hung from a branch. Just as he went to grab it,

someone clung to the skin on his leg.. Or something.. Biting down on his flesh.. His pale skin turned pink and oozing a cherry-coloured syrup.

As he turned to see the blood dripping he shot up, dripping in a cold sweat as his face whitened.

That dream. Again.

It had been haunting him, it happened every so often but now more than ever. It was always the same.

He wanders, a woman calling for someone and a man screaming then sees the Apple and tries to grab it before being bitten. Then waking up before being able to see the creature.

But what was it?.. He sat up on his bed, grabbed a yellow shoebox from under his bed, he placed it onto his milky white duvet.

He peeled the lid off the box, revealing a little rubber duck... He didn't know where it was from but he had had it for as long as he could remember, there were a few photos of him and his friends... Mainly Emily.

There were a few random things, buttons and feathers, but he finally found what he was looking for, a folded sheet of parchment. He opened it revealing a drawing of the forest, mainly the path he walked and the paths he could see.

He took out the red pen and drew the figure of a woman, shouting... He couldn't see the figure's face or features but he could tell it was a woman.

His father could never see this, nor Sera. They'd think he was plotting against something.. Which he'd never do. He wasn't a monster.

At the bottom of the box was a small gift from Emily, a little box that had been wrapped with gold ribbon. Inside was an apple... An actual real apple.

He hadn't a clue where she got it but it was gorgeous. So shiny and juicy, plump and red, a delicious bloody red...

He had never understood why they were forbidden anyways, yes because of The Fall but surely the fruit wasn't the problem..

He couldn't blame Eve.

He wouldn't have resisted either.

His silence was broken by knocking on his door. "(M/N)? Son? I'm heading off to my meeting, there's some food on the table, take care!"

It was his dad, it was thoughtful of the man to let him know he was leaving but it scared the boy shitless.

He got himself dressed and got to work on his heavenly duties, he strolled through a building, looking for Emily, he had to tell her about his dream.

As he walked past a meeting room he could hear a familiar screeching voice, Adam.

And a voice he hadn't heard before?.. A young girl? Whatever. It wasn't Emily so it didn't matter, he continued to walk until the voice got louder, almost like it was behind him

"Miss?? Excuse me!? You dropped some feathers!!"

Miss? He turned to see the person who had been shouting, it was a girl.

She had red glowing eyes with the sclera being a strong yellow color.

Her hair was the same straw blonde colour as his hair, it was tied up into a strange ponytail, in circular shapes almost, she was wearing a blood-red suit and her cheeks were rosy and pink.

What a strange angel... She didn't even look like an angel...

He just turned and continued to walk, going to find Emily.

..............................................................................................

"Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven and ruled by beings of Pure light, Angels that worshipped good and shielded all from evil..." A blonde girl read aloud,

As she flicked through the pages she looked at the part in between the section where Lucifer and Lilith tempted Eve and the banishment.

It was burnt, the small gap, unnoticeable at first glance, but with the number of times she had read it, she could tell someone had burnt out a few pages, burning part of the story...

"Charlie?" Her girlfriend said at the doorframe, an extermination had just happened, she looked out the window at the burning city.

She needed to put a stop to this, these sinners surely didn't deserve it. Well at least some of them.

The day seemed to melt away quickly, they had talked about commercials and... Well they all had some unique ideas...

Her phone started to ring, and she jumped up and went to answer it.

It was her father? Strange... He never called.

But he wanted her to go to heaven instead of him? Holy shit... Maybe she could change heaven's mind after all...

Before she knew it she was there, heaven..

When Charlie arrived she noticed how pristine everything was, light, bright, the place was practically blinded by white light.

She now stood before The Adam, or as he called himself (much to her dismay) The original dick. She had put all the ideas she could (before he'd interrupt) onto the table but they smushed it all.

To sum it up... The meeting went horribly. She had not only been turned down but completely ignored. Her whole life she had believed angels to be kind, caring creatures... There was a reason they made it up there after all.

But she wasn't so sure now. She wasn't so sure about anything anymore.

As she was leaving she saw a pair of wings stroll past the door, they were full and stuck out proudly, glowing a bright white. The feathers looked almost like cotton candy as they surfed the breeze, one or two floating off.

One had dropped at her feet. She picked it up before trying to get a look at the angel, they had long blonde hair, and she presumed it was a woman.

"Miss?? Excuse me!? You dropped some feathers!!" She shouted about the feathers, maybe the angel would need them? Or maybe she just wanted to see the angel's face. She couldn't tell but she felt somewhat connected to the being.

The angel turned gracefully, piercing eyes staring through her, beautiful, beautiful eyes, they were the colour of a rich berry, a beautiful purple, like a flower, soft and delicate. Yet the angel's stare could have ripped her in half by that alone.

Charlie stood there, not making a sound so the angel turned around. Bored with her it walked off through the corridor.

She needed to know who this was and why they looked like her mother.

..............................................................................................

"I still dunno what ya mean by 'she looked like my mother' toots, who are ya even talkin' about again?" Angel replied, pouring himself another drink as Charlie told the spider demon bout the meeting and her encounter with the angel.

"I'm telling you!! She looked just like my mom!" She said, waving a picture of her mother in front of Angel's face.

"Jeez, okay calm! I get it!" He slapped the picture away "Why are ya so bothered though?"

"I don't know. I just felt connected to her.. " she said, petting Keekee, who curled into her lap and purred at the affectionate touch.

"For all you know it might've not even been a girl, just let it go toots" he took a big swing of his drink before pouring another drink.

"I'm telling you I feel connected to them, I... I know they looked like my mother." She sighed.

Hopefully, she'd be able to go up to heaven soon, to win them over and to see that angel again.

Tag list - @demstarno @kenny-619 @bunbunboysworld @lovedesperatevampire

@honey-valentin3 @type-ink

[artuurle]

Hiding behind anon despite the fact ive been non-anon on here hi guys whatsup I have random mostly Grujaja centered things but theres others...............cause....yeah.... -Would be the best at hide and seek, he could just bury himself into the ground and turn the cone until you cant see the face. Would spend hours in one spot because nobody can locate this guy... -Would be that one guy at the party who stands awkwardly in the corner with a red cup. He didnt want to be there but someone else dragged him there and now he has to deal with it. -I feel like Grujaja would wear things like ear mufflers or sunglasses. He wears that cone all the time (as someone who wears headphones alot when you take them off its like getting hit by a truck sometimes.) Would probably also have a moment because the cone gets in the way of his breathing a little. -Hides small things in his cone, basically carrying small items on his head all the time. Things he can just drop whenever he wants them. -P would probably be concerningly good at combat games. P has got some inner demons or something. -Al constantly thinks he is that guy. He is infact not that guy. -Vib is an artist, P is also an artist. The two would probably do art together. -I feel like- whatever Bizzyboys are- they have really strong tails, some of them have tails that can support their bodies weight, kind of like a cool chair. I don't know if youve ever played monster hunter but if you look up the Great Maccao you'll see where im going with this. -They also have good hearing and eyesight too, but its...selective? Its very easy for them to just tune things out or loose focus if they want too. Their emotions/environment probably get in the way of this though. -The Bizzyboys have AT SOME POINT done a Team Rocket type skit.

Thank you for your wall. eats it. i drew stuffs for this and also talked about my own headcanons a little bit

the point about breathing being hard in the cone was an actual concern i had for him during the edge of milldread fight. its hot there he's gonna get heatstroke <:[ I also hc him bringing sensory headphones for when life gets too loud post game.

Patty gamer rage is so real and true in my heart. shes so sweety until you boot up mortal combat or guilty gear and then she immediately goes feral. fight those demons girl its scary in here.

Al is that guy to me even if he isn't that guy <3

I headcanon each of the bizzyboys we see as one form of artist or another! they all seem to have artistic tendencies! all were seen drawing in buzzhuzz, even Grujaja, he drew on his cone! Capo included as well. that mans art is cooking to me. Fun fact: on king posters posted to the limbolane account theres graffiti in red with a small Al drawn in the corner implying Al can draw <3

I dont think they can balance on their tails due to the thickness not being enough to support a whole body upright like a Great Maccao, but i do subscribe to their tails being strong enough to support their weight similar to how people portray possums hanging by their tails (though that isnt something possums can actually really do) It's common to pick up young drainfolk by their tail like this in my heart.... or adult ones if you're tall enough and have a death wish! Bonus: I also headcanon young drainfolk climbing onto adults when spooked or upset. (usually parents, though Grujaja Didn't have those anymore so...)

I agree on this one, though i'm biased because i'm the same way. I've had to be physically grabbed sometimes while reading books to get my attention and even still sometimes that didnt work.

[crystal-moon-101]

A while ago I had made up a Zak for each day of the week to match Zak Saturday and Monday for fun, and because I wanted to give Zak some more AU similar to how Ben gets a lot of them. So not only do they all have different last names, but each have their own backstories and colour theming! So I hope you enjoy my little AU concepts.

-Zak Saturday-

Classic original Zak. I decided to draw them all when they're 11, start of the series vibes. So that's why he doesn't look like the ways I normally draw him currently, since those are when he's 14. Nothing different with his design here, beyond still giving him those vivid orange eyes.

-Zak Sunday-

Also known as Zak Argost, having been taken in by the man after he had a certain encounter with Zak's parents, resulting in their deaths. When Argost found the young toddler, seeing the start of Zak's power, he was happy enough to take the child with him and use his powers to his benefit. Due to being taken when he was very young, Zak doesn't remember his parents at all, fully believing in anything Argost tells him, the only family he has. So he happily helps his guardian in keeping cryptids tamed during Weird World shows, or during trips to learn about them, even if Argost puts Zak in more danger than he should. Due to his appearances on Weird World, Zak is a celebrity of sorts, even if he doesn't get to go out often. Argost also gives him a lot of gifts, keeping the child in a positive mood to keep him under his thumb. So Zak truly believes that Argost cares about him.

Though things start to turn when Argost finally decides it's time to hunt down Kur and take his powers, hiring Van Rook and Doyle on the mission. This leads to Zak and Doyle getting to know each other, with Doyle feeling protective over this random kid for some reason. Eventually this leads to him taking Zak away when this whole Kur business gets out of hand. While Doyle can't seem to convince Zak that Argost doesn't care about him, the pair do at least agree to try and find Kur first, Zak worried that even Argost shouldn't handle such powers. However, only time will tell if the pair discover the truth behind their unknown family history.

-Zak Monday-

The good old twisted gremlin of a child, Zak Monday and his family were a result of the smoke mirror. They come from a world that twists the very nature of people, a poor reflection of their negative aspects. If you're naive, then your mirror self is incredible dumb. If you're a bit of a perfectionist, then your mirror self is a control freak. And Zak Monday represents the twisted doubts of Zak feeling like a monster, so why have any doubts when you can be the monster?

I decided to change Zak Monday a bit to have the green eyes and green shirt with his own logo, cause I liked the idea that after his first appearance, they switch back to what they're suppose to look like. But other than that I kept the concept of him looking just like Zak, minus the inverted hair colour.

-Zak Tuesday-

The young naga is the son of Rani Nagi. Born solely to have Kur's soul enter and be a host, but whoops! Looks like Kur's memories aren't there, but that wasn't going to stop Rani Nagi, who thinks if she keeps at her plans, eventually her son will become the old cryptid king she once knew. Even going as far as to solely call her child Kur, who secretly calls himself Zak due to him often watching humans in the shadow, curious about them and wanting a name for himself. Zak Tuesday has a lot of identity issues, not helped by his mother's teachings towards him, ignoring all his dreams and personal thoughts. Eventually he just got really good at lying rather than convincing Rani Nagi.

However, the young cryptid prince is suddenly kidnapped by Argost one day, as he figured out where Kur's soul was currently living. Zak knew he would have died that day if not for Drew and Doc recusing him, having been chasing Argost over this Kur situation. Though they're a little surprise that upon meeting the new Kur, they find it's just a young naga who really doesn't know who he is. At first Doc and Drew didn't know what to do with him, but Zak begged them to not send him back home, and let him stay at their place until he could figure things out. He wasn't foolish, he knew the nagas were planning a war, and he wasn't keen on being the face of it all. So now the Tuesdays just have a snake living around the house, but they can't exactly complain as he is a well mannered guest at least. And perhaps the house doesn't feel so lonely with him around either.

-Zak Wednesday-

Some of you might recognize this one, but this Zak is from my old Zur AU, where Kur was reborn via the Kur Stone due to it being an egg, and Zak is a dragon that shapes between human form and dragon form. I decided to update him, making him Zak Wednesday now, with a pink theme! I also decided that instead of Kur being reborn, I wanted to shake things up a bit and have it that Zak was directly Kur's son. His mother is unknown, and as Kur saw how the world was at the time, he put Zak's egg into a stasis situation until it was discovered again. After saving it from Argost, the egg hatched among the secret scientist, leading to them chasing the child of Kur. But upon using his shapeshifting abilities to look like a child of Drew and Doc, they just couldn't help but adopt him on the spot, siting there was no sense in blaming Kur's son over what happened years ago.

The growing dragon is very playful with a cheeky personality. He exhibits a lot of draconic behaviors, with a wild and free spirit. He is aware of his family history, but he doesn't like to think about it, unsure in how to view his father based on the stories he's heard. Besides, Doc and Drew are his parents, and that's all that matter to him. Though perhaps this sudden appearance by Argost, claiming he was going to far Zak's father, has been a bit rattling to deal with.

-Zak Thursday-

When Kur knew he was going to die, and also knew his soul wasn't able to live the mortal realm, he made plans to make it so his reborn self would both be born in hopefully a better time, and be without his memories. It was better that way, so that his new self could live a lovely life without the sins from his past. But that didn't exactly pan out properly, as Kur was reborn and sadly remembers everything. It took him a while to understand this growing up, his young human mind not processing it until he was roughly 7-8, and even then he needed time to think about it. And now he's a depressed 11 year old who now has to be stuck with the fact his plan didn't work, unable to run away from the person he once was. Doc and Drew found out the truth when Zak tried running away one day, their son sitting them down and telling them the truth in hopes they'd just leave him, it would be better that way. But to his surprise they disagreed, as he was still their son, Kur or Zak, and it would be too dangerous to leave him alone.

So now Zak lives with his parents? Are they really his parents? The family keeping this dark secret to themself, even from the other scientists. Doc and Drew still reach out to their son, doing their best to connect with him, but he can't help but push them away. He doesn't deserve this, and they deserve better. However, their secret might come out after Argost stole the Kur Stone and now hunts for Kur, not realizing the truth right in front of him. So now the family tries to get the stones back, wanting to protecting Zak/Kur from others finding out. Doesn't help that he has to go through being a child again with such dark memories lingering in his head, feeling tired and overwhelmed with the world. Hasn't he suffered enough?

-Zak Friday -

In a world where Kur and cryptids successfully wiped out humans, the king ruled the lands for a while after, before one day he mysteriously vanished. Many concluded that he had died somehow, the details unknown, but this lead to a prophecy that one day their king would return, leading to many claiming to be him, or praying that they will be him for the power and wealth. In this universe, Zak and his family are all cryptids, with Zak being a a Chuvash Dragon, Drew and Doyle are Epimeliads, and Doc is a Gargoyle (Other characters are also cryptids in this timeline). Zak is a serpent like dragon that breathes fire, as a very twistable body, and can freely shapeshift. He's heard about the legend of Kur returning, but frankly he thinks they don't need him, even if the cryptid world has been shattered without a king for years now.

But when a yeti named Argost claims that Kur is back, being backed up by the Nagas, everyone starts to gossip and run around trying to figure out who the new Kur is. So maybe it's best that Zak doesn't tell the whole world about his sudden new powers to control and communicate any fellow cryptid is walks by.

[popponn]

something about headaches. [floyd leech x reader]

note: i miss twst. and this eel. so i make a quick thing in one sitting without much thought. i just miss floyd and kind of want to write something healing for myself. also: prefect!gn!reader and concussion is there.

“Sensei!” Floyd Leech exclaimed with cheer in his voice, meanwhile you hung limply in his arms like a dying mandrake. “Shrimpy hit their head again! I’m taking them to the nurse, ‘kay?”

From the distance, Coach Vargas answered him with something you couldn’t understand. Your head throbbed and you groaned. The possibility of someone putting a curse on your face to attract wild, fast flying things suddenly became something more than Deuce’s random musings.

You began to consider actually asking Crowley for check up—but not before you had your whole body shaken up with a loud “Yay!” resounding from above you.

As Floyd started running and turned you into a sack of flour on his shoulder, you started praying to whichever astral beings still had pity left to spare for you. Faintly, you could hear your upperclassmen chirping happily about getting to run around with you and such. Your head was buzzing loudly, but you managed to catch some of them.

“How lucky! Where should we go, Shrimpy?” Floyd said and you wished you could laughed like always whilst ushering him into the nurse office.

“This is fun!” Floyd said and you wished you could agree. Perhaps, on another time, without concussion slowly draining on you.

“Senpai, I will die. For real. Slow down. Please,” you, finally feeling like you might die for real, chocked out as you hit Floyd’s back lightly.

Then, the eel suddenly drew to a stop. The loose, strong hand he had around your waist grew firmer and you wondered if you will get squeezed or thrown out of the second floor balcony there and then. “Eh, why?” Floyd’s voice took a dip in the exact manner whenever he started losing interest.

At this point, best case scenario would be him putting you down and leaving.

Nonetheless, you tried to answer him. “’M head hurts. A lot,” you worded out choppily. Breathing was getting harder. Perhaps you really were dying. Good Seven—overblots and monsters and what got you was a fucking flying disk—

“Head hurts, huh…?” Floyd parroted and maybe you spoke to fast and it would be an eel that got you, actually. “What did Jade said again…? Oh!”

“…hu—uuh!?”

Within a second, suddenly you got manhandled for the second time to the point of getting a bit of your spirit returning again. It took you another three seconds, however, to realize that your position had changed into being carried like a bride in your senior’s hands, who opted to walk slowly at that moment.

“That’s a funny sound, Shrimpy. Make more of it later,” Floyd commented, a wide smile hovering right above you along with his voice that had turned into a whisper. “Is this better? Jade said loud voice and getting hanged upside down make your head hurt lots. And I don’t like walking fast when my head hurts too. Feels better now, right?”

You blinked, trying to register the fact that instead of getting thrown away like a nosy mangy cat, Floyd acted like a straight out sweetheart. Your heart made a weird beat that you couldn’t process yet, but you managed a weak nod for him.

“He he,” Floyd’s smile grew wider. This was stupid, however you did felt that being hit in the head was not that bad, maybe.

“Can I pat your head?” you blurted out, your head growing heavier with each second. Along with it, perhaps, your logic was also drowning.

Without your blurry eyes catching them, Floyd’s expression wrote his amusement clear in his face. “Eh, Shrimpy sure asks a lot for a patient,” he chided childishly. Then, he lowered his head slightly to you without stopping his steps, “Here you go. Pat it, pat it.”

You chuckled breathlessly and softly as your fingers touched his head, “Thank you, Floyd-senpai. I will treat you to something later.”

“Aha—treats from Shrimpy?” Floyd cheered in a tone that hid something behind it. You should have paid more attention to it, but as you leaned your head against his chest, you decided you would just do it later. “Lucky! Get well soon then, ‘kay, Shrimpy?”

[ticklishfizzy]

Heyy! I have only just seen ur account but I thought it was so cute! Is there anyway u can write a tkl fic with Lee!ford pretty pretty please? You don’t have too and if you do just take ur time and don’t rush 💗💗

✿.｡.:* ☆:**:. Oh my Zeus you are so sweet thank you I just organized it!!! Yes of course I can for you my lovely anon! (I've actually been looking for a reason to write for Gravity Falls hehe) ◦•●◉✿ Warnings: Tickling, hurt/comfort (lmk if there's any more) ◦•●◉✿ Pairings: Ler!Stan & Lee!Ford ✿◉●•◦𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢, 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚢𝚜◦•●◉✿ Ford was in his lab, as usual. Staring down at his work, listening to the incessant ticking of the clock as seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours. Tick. Tick. Tick. He looked down at his hands. A million memories were flashing through his head. Tick. Tick. Tick. They had called him a monster, a deformity, a mistake. Tick. Tick. Tick. And of course they wouldn't now. He was a renowned scientist. Tick. Tick. Tick. Then why did it still hurt? The ticking of the clock was replaced by a knocking - Knocking was generous, actually, it was more like banging. "FORD! COME OUT AND SHOW ME YOU'RE ALIVE!" A sigh of relief escapes Ford's parted lips. "It's just Stan-" He thought. He pushed his work to the side, standing and crossing the lab to the door. His brother, Stan, stood there staring back at him. Was that... concern that he saw? Deep lines etched in his brother's face, eyebrows creased with worry, dark circles made themselves known under his eyes from lack of sleep. "Oh thank god- Are you okay? You've been cooped up in here for days." Days? Had it really been that long? "I- Days?" "Yes, days, Sixer. What's up with you?" Ford shoved his hands in his pockets - A nervous habit he picked up as a teenager. If he didn't show his deformity people couldn't point it out. Unfortunately, Stan knew this habit well and picked up on it almost immediately. "You thinking about the hand thing again?" He asked softly. Ford nodded, beginning to brush it off until Stan wrapped his arms around the scientist. His breath caught in his throat at the sudden affection from his brother, it wasn't often that he got a good word, let alone a hug. "Your hands are great. You're great. Any asshole that says otherwise can take a long walk off a short pier. Got me?" Ford chuckled and nodded. Stan grinned, leading his twin over to the small couch in the corner of the lab. He sat and patted the spot next to him, where Ford took his seat as well. Stan took one of his brother's hands, along with a pen from his pocket. "S-Stan nononono-" Ford's pleas were cut short by a loud squeak as his brother dragged the tip of the pen down the palm of his hand. Stan grinned in satisfaction. "Oh come on, Sixer, you love this and you know it." He couldn't exactly deny that claim, his body language betrayed him in that field. Instead of pulling his hand away, he kept it in his brother's grasp, opting to use his free hand to cover his face and attempt to save at least some dignity. "Shuhut uhuhup!" "You know that isn't possible." Stand continued to draw on his brother's palm, random shapes and words along the sensitive skin, pointing out the different fingers as he drew on them individually. "I like this one, and this one, this one's my favorite-" he chuckled as he drew on Ford's middle finger, "And this one's good too, and this one, aaaand I like this one too." "Stahahan this isn't fahahair!" "Oh come on, it's not my fault your hands are ticklish. What kind of sibling would I be if I didn't take advantage of it?" "Fuhuck off!" "Oooooo, didn't know you had such a potty mouth." "Stahahahap!" The tickling immediately stopped at the request. Ford grinned up at his brother a light pink hue dusting his cheeks and ears. Stand grinned back, getting up and heading towards the door. "Dinner's ready whenever you're hungry." After he left, Ford looked down at what had been written on his hand. "I love you more than my hat" Ford smiled fondly, making a mental note to pause his experiments for a bit. He didn't want to wash it off. ✿◉●•◦𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍◦•●◉✿ ✿.｡.:* ☆:**:. Again, thank you so so so much for your request as well as the kind words, I appreciate all of you guys so so sooooo much!

[ohmyplasticstars]

Tnmn group white board shennagins

Ah puch x Masked ghost having a whole saga over forgetting their anniversary

Credits to @double--hh , I just drew a few goofie frames for masked ghost

Ah puch being bird mom to teut egg↓

@double--hh, jif some rain and a worm saga/j oh and chauns is there too

@double--hh drew teut being a rebellious teen-ager and made her yell at ah puch

'you're not my mom'

And ah puch replied with

'yeah no shit I found you in the trash'

So I ended up drawing a whole ass half shitpost theory that uh teut's parents were cattle at babrbatos's shop 💀

Cw: censored naked people and uh barbatos looking at them like dogs he just recently got fixed

"if we have this baby maybe this monster will leave us alone" (that's what's written in the thought bubble 💀)

Unfortunately barbatos isn't very merciful towards random babies that occur so to the trashcan

Luckily ah ouch found teut

We had a joke that ah puch was trying to dig out free stuff from barnatos's shop's trashcan,because he likes free stuff and he assumed barbatos would like throw some stuff away (human bodies) that he won't sell because they're now old or something

Technically he was right except he just found a whole ass human baby trust

And that's how teut happened

[novankenn]

Restoring the Balance

The Brother of Light regarded his sibling the Brother of Dark. They stood upon the shattered remains of Remnant's moon. A testament to their once childish, and petulant natures. Between them a lone figure lay suspended in the void. He was young but they could easily see the scarring pains etched upon his soul.

"We've let these mistakes continue for too long."

"I agree, but how do we fix something we so thoroughly ruined?" Dark replied. "There is only two who believe in us anymore, and they both lack faith."

"No brother," Light countered, "They knew us. That is different from belief. But your question is still valid."

"How do we fix this?"

"I do not know. But he could be a key to rebalancing the scales of this world."

"Is that why we tore him from the void? To turn him into a tool?"

"In a way, yes, but less of a tool and more of a weapon. A force in his own right, capable to unmaking the two that plague this world."

"This is skating a a razors edge. We by our own proclamation would not return until it was time for judgement. Until we were summoned."

"I know what our spoke words were, and are." Light countered, "But tell me from here who would we judge? Should we as we have so oft in our youth condemn all for the sins of the few?"

"So instead we create another monster? An abomination potentially capable to rending the very word asunder?"

"To remove them, he will need access to our power."

"Agreed, but how do we reign in that power? Keep it controlled? Contained?"

"Through veneration."

"Ah, so to access our gifts will need to... pray to one or both of us?"

"Yes to unlock the true potential of his powers. It is the only way I can see to limit his potential influence. To keep him from going rogue, I believe the term is."

"So how far do we send him back? How much should he remember, if anything all?"

"To his birth, and nothing specific. Just shadows of notions and thoughts."

"Agreed." Dark confirmed. "Shall we begin?"

/==/ Age 10 /==/

Ansel was in complete chaos. Bandits had launched an attack upon the small hamlet. Even though their forces had been repelled, the anger, fear and sorrow of the short battle drew the real danger. A Grimm horde fell upon the wounded, battered, and exhausted defenders. Death fell upon them.

A young boy, just on the cusp of his teens, screamed and wailed while holding his mother's bloody hand. His sisters huddled around him, many of their hands holding down on the gunshot wound she had taken during the defense against the bandits. They had no idea where their father was, though his screams of rage drifted along the breeze.

"Jaune, mom's going to be okay." Saphron, the third eldest whispered, trying to calm her only brother. The youngest of the family of ten. "She's breathing, she's not gone."

Jaune heard his sister's voice. He registered her words, but still his mind roiled like a storm tossed sea. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He wasn't the youngest. It was wrong. Ansel was never attacked. Mom did not die from some random bandit shot. It was all wrong, it was all hurting him, yet there was something else, buried with in the chaos. A heartbeat? The click of clock work gears?

"Pray..."

"We will provide the means..."

Jaune's cracking mind, latched on to those words, and suddenly everything calmed. He released his mother's hand, and slowly stood.

"Jaune?" Saphron asked in confusion. A confusion that deepened at the sight of his glowing blue eyes. "Jaune, are you okay?"

"I want... to stop... to hurt... them..."

"Jaune!" his mass of sisters yelled as the young boy bolted. HIs small hands grabbing a rifle a long as he was tall, from the ground. The screams grew even louder when Jaune suddenly hopped into the air and floated into the sky.

"To stop... to hurt..."

Shouldering the war aged relic, he sighted his shot. His mind just a maelstrom of information, and plans. His azure eyes turned golden. His snot and tear stained lips, twisting into a cruel smile. The gears in his mind clicked forward, and the weapon in his hands began to glow. Through the iron sights of the rifle he aimed at rolling mass of death throwing itself against the walls, and squeezed the trigger.

A single report of a weapon would never have been noticed amidst the chaos, but the result of that single shot could not be ignored. The single round bust from the muzzle and after only a few dozen feet it split. One becoming two. Two becoming four. Four turning to eight. Upward the number of projectiles grew as they spread out, seeking targets like missiles.

The impact explosions into the massed Grimm shook Ansel's walls. Causing some defenders to even fall from their perches. It was utter decimation of the ageless foe. The weapon fell to the ground below, as Jaune's head started to loll.

"Tired..." he mumbled before the glow vanished, and his original eye color returned. Then he fell.

(A/N - finished the series a couple days ago. Interesting idea, that I want to try with RWBY. So sort of a time travel theme. See what I can do with this... at some point.)

[mars-barsz]

In this essay I will talk about how Rick could have made Jason a more interesting character to more people

Im not joking, Drews is next and why she really wasnt that bad of a person, just a traumatized teen

CW FOR MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU HAVENT FINISHED ALL THE BOOKS!!!!

Starting off I fully believe most people didn't like Jason because he was a random new guy, like we were expecting Percy and got some amnesiac and didn't get to see out hero happy and living his life for the entire book, and he was so confused most the time, because he fully didn't remember anything, he wasn't even given the same fake memories to try and act normal, he didn't know his own name when he woke up on that bus, we had to personality to go off of at the start, because HE DIDNT KNOW WHO HE WAS! People always say Leo was the best out of the lost trio and that's because so many people could relate to him, he used humor to cover stuff up, like everyone's favorite mc did (Percy). Piper had her own struggles, like finding out who she thought was her boyfriend, didn't know who she was, she was being manipulated and her dad was being held hostage as she was told to kill her friends, and she AND Leo were in a WILDERNESS SCHOOL. A. WILDERNESS. SCHOOL. I got off topic, sorry, but piper had so many of her own stuff she was working through in the way she thought was correct, by lying and hiding things. Jason had nothing, he knew he didn't remember anything and he was sad. Leo had a personality and was content separate to them, obviously he had issues but he was the most similar to Percy, so fans liked him the most (imo)

Now, onto how rick could have made Jason better

made him actually an awesome fighter, he killed monsters with his bare hands and was raised by wolves since two, he should have been equal to or even better than Percy with muscle memory and all, which yeah he had but he still should have had a more feral side to him, he was said to climb the ranks at camp Jupiter and was a bit more wild than other romans, I think it would have been interesting to see Jason use his instincts more and be a little feral when he lost his memory, not having his camp Jupiter training but muscle memory and instincts to guide him and keep him going

He should have been more separated from Percy, he was not a comparison to Percy and I don't like that was how he was written, I don't have much to say about this but I really didn't like when they both sat at the head of the table

He should have gotten his memories back like percy did, He never got to learn who he was or what he stood for in the past because he never got to get those back, even after the war ended hera/juno didnt return them, which I think would have made a really interesting ending to TLH, or getting them during the quest or something, but he dies without knowing who he was, only a pawn for the gods

Have had mention of him previously, like a picture thalia had and thats why she even agreed to bring annabeth, because she reminded her of jason, or just that she even HAD a little brother so readers could have had a fun plot twist and even more of a heart warming reuniting scene

Adding to that a bit i think thalia and jason really should have had more time together, like maybe in toa mentioning that thalia had been visiting jason when she could to catch up on lost time, to be siblings again and try to live as normally as possible. (off topic but i think the jason/luke comparisons are 50/50, i like others seeing it and Thalia at first but removing the idea immediately because at one point she liked luke and jason is her baby brother)

Let him be awake during fight scenes

I think jason could have grown more, and adapted a mix of fighting, a bit roman, a bit greek, and a bit feral, to match how his life was

when we see him in toa i think it would have been fun to see how much he had grown, experimenting with new styles (maybe a bit more alt considering his older sister, but he was at a boys school so maybe outside of it?) Just, growing into himself and not focusing on the gods as much, he lived and died for them, without much in return

Let us know who his friends were before he lost his memories, like have percy seens people asking around or being asked if he had seen a blonde gut about yae high, named jason, just stuff like that to show he had a community or at least someone who truly cared he was gone

Ik it was more of a list but yk, also sorry for the lack of punctuation, i forget it exists unless its an excessive amounts of commas, i like commas, and forget to capitalize my I's

Thanks for coming to my ted talk

[shycrowns]

Transformer prime x magical girl reader

OCC (cuz i don't watch tf prime)

And yes i am a transformer fan

I want more magical girl reader stories RAHHHHHHHHHdsafasfawff3f

Gender neutral cuz why not, Ur the magical girl that fights in the shadow to defeat the evil shadows monster that eats people in their dreams and the people die when awake, your magical girlname is royalty Heart. It's your job to protect the lives and dreams of the people in Jasper Nevada.

let ‘s start the show shall we.

You're a magical girl that only protects people's dreams. You are the only one that has this ability and No one can to help you. You have a team but they can't help you why cuz i want it that way

—

Today was the same stuff as always, Your jumping and somewhat flying through a dreamscape to one then another it was nice seeing the soft clouded area but it was getting boring by now but nonetheless you enjoy being a magical girl being one has it perks like for one you can prank anyone if the dreamscape for fun and no one would know beside that your able to conceal your true self at least

As you jumping from a cloud to reach a certain entrance to a dream and head inside, Once inside you notice something strange this doesn’t seem like any ordinary dream but you know there’s those nasty shadows monster in here you feel it in your very core but still the dream seems so alien you never seen a place like this on earth as you float around you see a figure trying to fight the shadows monster that was really pointless since no one can defeat them unless your a magical girl but props for trying at least but theres not much time before this figure gets devour so you quickly ran up where the shadows were and use your magical hammer and hit the monsters with it and you keep attacking until all of the nasty monster is gone.

You turn around to see the figure you expected to see a normal human but instead you see a big ass tall robot that looks like a truck with blue and red paint, “um.. This is unexpecting, uh are you injured?..” you ask the truck like robot as i put your magical hammer down beside you with a nervous and awkward smile on your face as you waited, The truck robot responded “..i’m fine but how did you defeat these?..” The robot's voice sounds very calm and gentle as he crouches down to your height. “Um well, that's a secret but let me introduce myself. I'm Royalty Heart but call me Love that's what everyone calls me!” you said enthusiastically as you float once again, the robot introduced himself “i am Optimus prime..” Optimus said as he looked at you curiously “you’re a human, correct?” Optimus ask as he stood up from crouching, You answered “thats correct somewhat, I’m a Magical girl here to rid of those things you just tried to defeat” You explain in a short way i supposed, Optimus humm as he grabs you while you float which makes you yelp in surprised he then ask again “ROyalty heart, what's a magical girl if i may ask..” You stutter at first before answering that a magical girl is what people say young people getting the abilities to become one and have to fight dangerous shadows monster through alter egos of themself, since you technically (i did) casually drew your magical girl outfit in one of your notebook at school and some random Creature made you a Magical girl to defeat all evil of the shadows. Back to the story Optimus with a satisfied look (not really) then lets you go letting you float back where you are “..I see, so your job is to defeat these things. Are there others like you, little one?” he ask, You look at him “well yeah but we only got one place to defend each you see i'm the only one in my team of magical girls to go through dreams and visions” You then look at the time you realize it almost morning “It’s almost morning i have to go now goodbye big robot!” you said as you quickly left Optimus dream Optimus wanted to tell you to wait but it’s too late you already out of his dream, He sigh before waking up from his recharge, Optimus is still curious and wanted to learn more of this Magical girl stuff maybe the three children would be of an assistance.

(This kinda sucks...)

[reachartwork]

Weekend Vacation

Charlie's lungs burned as she sprinted down the endless concrete corridor, her breath coming in ragged gasps as her heavy combat boots pounded against the hard, unforgiving surface with each desperate stride. The dull gunmetal gray walls stretched out before her, featureless and unbroken save for the occasional heavy security door set at seemingly random intervals. Each looked identical to the one before it, stamped with an inscrutable string of letters and numbers, the only landmarks in this monotonous stretch of hallway.

An occasional perfectly square window - a gap, really, not filled in with glass or anything translucent besides atmosphere - showed the beautiful surroundings to this vein in the Chicago Tower. Hundreds and hundreds of vertical meters of nothing, the omnipresent black fog-of-war in these higher levels preventing sight of even the nearest walls. They were hanging in a catwalk.

Behind her, the staccato rapport of assault rifle fire echoed off the close confines, punctuated by panicked shouts and the occasional pained scream as her pursuers drew ever closer. Charlie risked a glance over her shoulder, catching a fleeting glimpse of dark figures clad in matte black tactical armor as they rounded the corner behind her, their movements preternaturally fluid and precise. Not human - or at least not baseline. Corporate security, maybe, or some new breed of DARPA nightmare. It didn't matter. All that mattered was putting as much distance between herself and them as possible.

Her hand drifted to the polymer grip of the strange, asymmetrical pistol holstered at her hip - a "Needler", Jay had called it when he'd first shown it to her. Looted from some hidden cache deep in the bowels of the Miami Tower a few months back, when they'd been hired on for a deep delve by some corp looking to snatch up artifacts ahead of the feds. It fired razor-sharp ceramic flechettes, propelled by linear induction to hypersonic velocities. Designed to punch through body armor and shred soft tissue. Only a few mags left though - and as much as it pained her to admit it, even mag-dumping the sleek little monster likely wouldn't do more than slow these bastards down.

No, what she needed was to find a way off this level. Get to a place she could hunker down, catch her breath, and wait for her team to circle back around. Speaking of which… Her free hand fumbled at the side of her matte black ballistic helmet, fingers finding the chunky rubber PTT button. "Jay, Mouse - sitrep. Got heavies on my six, could use a hand here."

A burst of gunfire sounded from somewhere behind her - and entirely too close for comfort - the rounds pinging off the concrete far too near her head for her liking. She ducked instinctively, shoulders hunching as she put on an extra burst of speed. "Like real fuckin' soon, guys."

Mouse's nasally tenor crackled over the comm channel, nearly drowned out by a wash of static. "Workin' on it, fearless leader. Had to double back to the checkpoint to snag the long guns. But I think we can cut 'em off if we-" His voice dissolved into a garbled electronic screech, the signal breaking up into indecipherable fragments.

"Mouse? Mouse!" Charlie shouted into her mic, panic rising in her throat. No response. Goddamnit. The levels this high up played merry hell with comm signals on the best of days. Something to do with the artifact radiation, or so the nerd brigade claimed. All Charlie knew is that it meant her team was out there in the Wind somewhere, coming for her. She just had to stay alive long enough for them to reach her.

POST TO r/TowerRunners241391 SubLink: ANALYSIS OF NEW TOWER THREATS StrikeVector42 1.4k points 2 days ago So it seems the Tower Authority has stepped up their game again. I had a run-in with these new security drones (at least I think they're drones) on my last deep delve and let me tell you, they are NO joke. Fast, heavily armored, and equipped with what looked like high-end mil-spec hardware. Managed to drop one with a few mags from my M56A1 and got a closer look before I had to bail. Def not human - no blood, and I could see servos and hydraulics through some of the holes I punched in its armor. Almost like someone kitbashed a Northrup dog-brain into an Ares HOPLITE chassis. Bad news for solos and underequipped teams. Might be time to start packing some heavier ordnance for Tower runs. Thoughts? >ArrowheadActual 671 points 1 day ago Damn, that's some high-end shit. You'd think they'd have better things to spend the budget on than harassing underpaid runners. Although I guess artifact retrieval is big biz for the feds, especially after that Miami fiasco. As for heavier ordnance, I'd say yeah, probably a good call. I've been telling my crew we need to invest in some anti-material rifles or maybe one of those Militech plasma lances. Expensive as hell, but you can't really put a price on not getting vented by some roided-out murder bot. >>TacoTaster 287 points 22 hours ago Oh sure, because a buncha small-time runners can def afford bleeding-edge Militech hardware. Why don't you throw in one of those Mitsubishi drop pods while you're at it, really round out the kit. Nah, the smart play here is avoidance. Stick to the edges, don't get greedy, and be ready to bail at the first sign of trouble. I've been soloing the Austin and Philly Towers for years now and never had a problem I couldn't sprint away from. Although I will say the new sensor suite I picked up last month has been a game-changer for detecting patrols. Maybe see if you can scrounge up one of those before dropping rent money on a plasma lance.

The chatter of automatic weapons fire was growing louder now, echoing through the labyrinthine corridors in a dizzying cacophony that made it impossible to pinpoint its source. They were getting closer. Sweat beaded on Charlie's brow, running into her eyes and blurring her vision as she blinked it away. She could feel her legs starting to tremble with exhaustion, her lungs searing with each ragged breath. She couldn't keep this pace up much longer.

There! Up ahead, set into the endless expanse of cold gray concrete - a door, its matte black surface adorned with the same inscrutable alphanumeric markings as all the others. But unlike the sealed and reinforced security checkpoints she'd been sprinting past, this one looked… different. Older, maybe. And slightly ajar, a slim wedge of impenetrable darkness visible in the gap. Charlie didn't hesitate, throwing herself forward with a final burst of desperate speed and shouldering her way through into the unknown.

((SYNAPNET VC-CHANNEL TRANSCRIPT EXCERPT, SOUTH-CENTRAL GRID 1707-A)) 27634: -that's why I'm telling you there's something seriously wrong here! 09611: All I'm hearing are baseless allegations from someone who doesn't understand the tech. Do you even know how the artifacts work? How CARPA interfaces on a synaptic level with human neural architecture? The risks are minimal and the benefits far outweigh- 27634: The risks? People are DYING, you idiot! Keeling over with seizures or breaking through their regocycles speaking nonsense about the new gods. I saw it myself on my last core delve of the New York Tower. Something's in there… something that reacts to the artifacts. And the feds know it. [USER #09611 - AUTH ACCEPTED - KEYS UPDATED. PERMISSIONS NOMINAL.] 00244: >KEY ACCEPTED. UPLINK SUCCESSFUL.< 09611: What the- How did you get on this frequ- [SIGNAL LOST. CHANNEL REVOKED. HAVE A NICE DAY.]

The room beyond was dark, lit only by the pulsing crimson glow of emergency lighting strips set into the junctures of walls and floor. It was big, far larger than any of the storage rooms or armories Charlie and her crew had raided in the past. More of a cavern, really, its distant walls lost in shadow. The air hung thick and heavy, the cloying stench of ozone and scorched metal assaulting her nostrils.

Towering banks of computer equipment dominated the room's center - server stacks, their matte black chassis roughly the size and shape of refrigerators, all interconnected by dense nests of bundled fiber-optic cabling that pulsed and flickered with streams of data. A command console of some kind was set before them, a horseshoe arc of display screens and input devices that looked like something straight out of a big-budget sci-fi sim.

Charlie approached it warily, senses straining for any hint of movement in the shadows. Nothing. Just the hum of fans and the muted clicking of environmental systems cycling on standby mode. She slid into the console's wraparound crash couch, fingers playing across the nearest display. It blinked to life at her touch, pale green text crawling across the screen. Some kind of debug interface, dense with jargon she couldn't even begin to parse.

"C'mon you bucket of bolts, give me something I can use here…" A few swipes and taps brought up what looked like a master systems display, a wireframe representation of the Chicago Tower with their current position blinking at its summit. And off to one side, tucked away behind layers of sub-menus and flickering holo-glyphs - a communications suite. Her heart leapt. If she could just patch a signal through, boost it enough to punch past the interference-

POST TO r/TowerRunners420692 SubLink: I THINK I FOUND SOMETHING HUGE IceBreakYoself 2.9k points 12 hours ago Guys, this is big. Like, really fucking big. You know that covert data center everyone's been whispering about? The black box site squirreled away somewhere in the upper levels of the Chicago Tower, where all the REALLY juicy experimental tech is supposed to be locked down? I think I just stumbled across it. I'm not gonna say too much (opsec and all that) but it looks like some kind of quantum computing rig hooked into a TITAN-class simulspace, all off-the-books DoE hardware that probably doesn't officially exist. And I found references in the system logs to something called JANUS - no idea what it is but it seems to be the core around which this whole setup is built. I managed to pull a partial schematic before I had to bail (sec was def onto me) but I'll see if I can piece together any more details from my download. TripleTeaTime 1.2k points 5 hours ago Holy shit, for real? I've heard rumors about some hush hush fed project in the upper levels but always assumed it was just undie banter. If you actually found evidence of it… Dude, you'd better be careful. That's the kind of thing certain three letter agencies wouldn't think twice about disappearing you over.

Charlie cursed under her breath as her fingers danced across the terminal's input keys, each command met with a mocking buzz of denial from the system. Unauthorized access, insufficient privileges, blah blah fucking blah. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. Nothing ever was, in this business.

Her musing was interrupted by a sudden flurry of movement in her peripheral vision, a dark figure detaching itself from the shadows with liquid grace. No, two- no, three of them, their forms shimmering and indistinct even to her goggles. The sound of their footfalls was swallowed by the room's oppressive hush, muted to a whisper despite the hard composite of the floor plates. Definitely not human. Humanoid, but too many elbows. Guns made for hands with different amounts of joints.

Charlie was moving before the conscious thought had even fully formed, her rifle snapping up to her shoulder as she rolled out of her chair and behind the meager cover of the server stacks. The muzzle flash of her own weapon was blinding in the near-dark as she opened up on full auto, a shredding fusia cyclic rate of fire that chewed divots and craters into the far wall.

She caught a glimpse of dark, lithe forms scattering at her fusillade, splitting up to flank her with impossible speed and agility. Their return fire was immediate and precise, superheated slivers of razored tungsten slicing through the the air around her head like invisible guillotine blades. Charlie ducked back behind the dubious shelter of the servers, breath coming in sharp huffs as she fumbled to slap a fresh mag into her rifle's receiver.

Her hands were shaking, adrenaline turning her movements clumsy and uncoordinated. She could hear the soft, padding footfalls of the cybernetic monstrosities closing in on either side, the muted whine of servos and hydraulics underlying each step. Sweat ran into her goggles. This was bad. This was really goddamn bad.

Pain exploded along her ribs as a burst tore through the server chassis to her left, shredding kevlar and skin alike. Charlie bit back a scream, clutching at her side as warm wetness spilled through her fingers. It wasn't that bad. She'd had worse, right? Except she could already feel the numbness spreading out from the wound, a cold heaviness seeping through her torso. Fuck. Poison? Neurotoxin?

Her vision swam as she struggled to bring her weapon to bear on the flash of movement to her right, finger tightening on the trigger on pure instinct. Her burst went wide, sparks showering down from the ceiling as the rounds tore into cables and conduits. Not enough. Not nearly enough. As the adrenaline began to fade, the pain of her wound reasserted itself with a vengeance, a sickening throb that made her head spin.

One of them was on her then, close enough that she could feel the heat of its mechanisms as it loomed out of the darkness. A vise-like hand clamped down on her wrist, crushing armor and bone with equal ease. Her rifle fell from suddenly limp fingers, clattering to the deck. This was it, then. This was how she died - alone and forgotten, just one more runner who'd pushed her luck too far, four kilometers too high. She should've stayed on the lower floors, where it was safe. The kiddie pool.

She waited for the killing blow, senses hyperattuned to each agonizing instant as if by stretching it out she could postpone the inevitable. But it never came. Instead, there was a shuddering impact, a warbling shriek of tortured metal, and the iron grip on her arm fell away. She collapsed, toppling bonelessly to the hard metal decking.

Somewhere above her, the chatter of automatic fire filled the air, punctuated by warbling shrieks and the crunch of rending metal. Familiar voices shouted in staccato urgency, barking terse commands that her pain-addled mind struggled to parse into words. A bellow of triumph was cut short by the wet thud of tearing flesh, followed by a scream of anguish.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The room fell crushingly silent but for the low groans of the wounded and the occasional sputter of a dying servo. Ungentle hands seized Charlie by the shoulders, rolling her over onto her back. The lancing agony of the movement brought tears to her eyes, her vision clearing enough to resolve the soot-streaked faces of her team hovering over her.

Jay's broad, battered features split into a fierce grin as he saw her eyes focus on him, teeth startlingly white against his dark skin. He'd lost his helmet somewhere in the chaos, and an ugly gash over his left eyebrow wept crimson down his cheek. "Shit, boss," he rumbled. "We leave you alone for five minutes and look what happens."

Mouse offered a strained chuckle at that, though the ashen set of his features belied his humor. His left arm hung limp and bloodied at his side, the polymer of his armor sleeve split open from wrist to elbow. His other hand clutched a bulky plastek case to his chest, the seams of its lid pulsing with the telltale argent glow. "Yeah, well, I think Charlie's little solo operation paid off." He offered a pained grimace, hefting his burden. "Snagged more than just this while I was poking around. Got some data drives that should fetch a fine price with the right buyer."

A wet, wracking cough burst from Charlie's lips as she tried to sit up, each spasm setting her chest aflame with agony. She gritted her teeth, forcing out words between panting breaths. "Great. Happy for you. Dunno if you noticed, but I'm kinda bleeding out here."

"Shit, yeah, hang on." Jay produced a palm-sized black disc from a pouch at his belt, snapping it open to reveal the coiled tubing and gleaming needle of an autosuture. He pressed it against the ruin of her side and depressed the trigger stud, a sharp coldness spreading out from the impact as the device hissed and spat. Charlie stifled a yelp, jaw clenching against the urge to scream as it knitted up her perforated flesh in fast-forward.

"There we go, good as new. Sorta." Jay tossed the expended device aside, surveying his handiwork. "Need a top up?" He tilted his head toward the bulky shape of the drug injector riding his other hip, while his free hand wrapped around a purifier, slamming it into the exposed skin on Charlie's side.

Charlie made a face, shaking her head, nostrils twitching at the sharp but otherwise pleasant pinprick of the purifier's needle. "Nah, I'm good for now." She'd seen what that stuff did to people firsthand - made them feel invincible, sure, but also made them sloppy. Stupid. She needed her wits about her if they were going to get out of this. She couldn't afford the luxury of chemical courage.

She forced herself to her feet with Jay's help, muscles protesting every inch of the way. Mouse shot her a worried look, which she waved off with as much nonchalance as she could muster. "I'll be fine," she said, biting off each word. "Sitrep. How many of those things did you scrap?"

"Three, as far as I could tell," Mouse piped up. "But I think there were more. Looked like they were coming out of some kind of… I dunno, maintenance alcove? Over on the far wall." He jerked his chin in the direction of the back of the room, now lost in shadow.

Charlie blew out a breath, nodding. "Okay. Okay, we can't stay here then. Sooner or later more are gonna come to investigate, and I don't fancy our chances in a stand up fight." A glance up at the silent banks of servers surrounding them. "Did you pull a backup of the files?"

"Sure did." Mouse tapped a gloved finger against the plastek of the case still clutched tight to his chest. "Everything I could grab before they spiked the connection. Dunno if it'll be enough to reconstruct the whole dataset, but it's a damn sight more than we had when we walked in."

Charlie set her jaw. "It'll have to be enough. C'mon, we're burning moonlight." She cast about for her discarded weapon, stooping to retrieve it with a grimace of pain. The barrel was warped and pitted from the heat of her wild full-auto burst, but the action seemed to still cycle smoothly enough. It'd do, for now. She thumbed the release for the side panel, a final once-over by touch assuring her that nothing vital had been damaged. Good enough for government work.

They moved out at a cautious pace, Charlie on point with Mouse and Jay watching the flanks. The room's layout seemed to shift and distort as they picked their way through the carnage of shattered machinery and twisted cybernetic limbs, shadows bleeding together into a disorienting haze. Or maybe that was just the blood loss talking.

They reached the far wall without incident, the hulking forms of the alcoves looming out of the murk. As Mouse has said, they looked like they'd been designed to house the security machines - heavily reinforced, with thick power and data conduits snaking into each. A quick peek inside revealed them to be empty, the soft amber stand-by lights winking at them mockingly.

"They must've been activated remotely when the system detected an intrusion," Mouse mused, half to himself. "Some kind of rapid-response unit. Probably high-value priority targets for the Towers."

"Yeah? Well they can fuck right off," Charlie spat. "I've got high-value priorities of my own, and none of them involve getting diced by the Tower's pet murder-bots." She shouldered past him, stepping over the tangled ruin of what had probably been an access panel once upon a time. The corridor beyond was as featureless as the one that had led them here - just more matte gray bulkheads and sullen crimson emergency lighting.

Time to get moving. They only had another 20 minutes before the Tower reset, and Charlie wasn't looking forward to becoming a red stain pressed between two concrete blocks.

[camellia-salazar]

April's drawings and doodles!! Get ready! 🎉🌟

At first, I was gonna draw ARG tangled in some rope, but then the rope looked like a ribbon, so I made Gangle into a monster instead. Also, I drew two of the most underated cats from Warriors ever, especially Lionheart.

(I started this first but finished it second). Drawings of certain characters cause their birthdays this month, except for Colin his birthday is at the end of March. I just forgot to draw him. I just love how Cody, Popee, and Waluigi share the same birthday, tho. 🎉

Edit: (No offense to those born on April 1st, btw).

I was writing a story with these six, inspired by The New Prophecy. But I haven't written it in some time. Idk if I'll ever continue it. I don't think I'll post it anywhere, either. Probably.

The next two drawings I started a month or so ago but didn't finish until this month.

Took quite a while to finish, but I'm glad I did. Idk where this takes place yet, but it is a scene from that crossover I keep thinking about but never really writing down.

Either takes place before or after the drawing above it, I don't really remember. What I do know, tho is that I drew these drawings because idk I just felt like Adam would have interesting interactions with some other characters.

I rushed this at the end. I did not want to leave it out. I want a clean slate next month. God damn it. I love crossovers, how bout you?

More about the Multifandom lore and other stuff below if you want:

Characters who die in canon that end up in the place (idk what to call it) keep being in the clothing that they died in. (Rip Ram and Kurt from Heathers: the Musical). (Spoilers warning if needed) So Adam is stuck with his robe he wore during the war with Charlie and the others from the hotel.

Also, about the 3rd drawing, like I said, it's an idea I had that, yes, takes place in the same crossover thing I think about. The colors in the background of each kiddo are involved in it, too.

The first two drawings are pretty much just some random doodles (idk what to do with the one with ARG and monster Gangle) while the other three kinda have stories to them that may or may not be written or animated on someday. (God, I hope that last sentence made sense).

Oh, and Bluey, Bingo and their cousins got to visit the Cul-De-Sac cause of a reason that's also in the multifandom/crossover I think about, I don't know if I should explain it or not. Meh.

BTW I've tried to match the original art styles of everything before, but this time, I've taken some steps forward. The hardest thing to figure out is the claynimated ones like Orel, Clay, and Claire. But I managed (for now, probably).

Edit: i went back and fixed it, I feel so much better about it now.

I even tried to have it seem like Bluey and others are slowly transitioning to the EEnE art style a bit.

But anyways, thanks for looking at my art and reading my rant! (If you did, if not, don't worry)

Have a good one! 🌟✨️✨️👋

(i keep forgetting to include my logo in my fanarts, but whatever, maybe next time, maybe next year ill start. Idk.)

[cierraonline]

That’s So Beautiful

chapter three: that’s so beautiful

Masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter 

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 

THE O’CONNELL HOUSEHOLD

"Said out loud," Billie sings, rehearsing the line. Over the past three years, so much has changed for the trio. They went from being ordinary, talented people with individual goals to a signed group under Darkroom Records, unified by a shared mission: to complete their debut album. For Storm, it's even more ambitious, as the label head wants her to create an orchestral version of the album as a standalone project. On top of it all, they're filming a documentary for Apple TV.

"Nice," Finneas compliments, working on digitalizing the orchestral demo Storm created to align it with the pop culture standards of a regular album.

"Said out loud."

"That sounds good."

"Come here," her friend's voice drifts in, almost like a distant echo.

It might be something that shouldn't be...

Said out loud.

"Honestly, I thought that I would be dead by now," Billie sings, as Finneas makes technical sound adjustments. Storm watches closely, trying to absorb his production techniques, unfamiliar yet intrigued. The violins duel with pounding drums, taunting like fighters, until the music transforms into a pulsing bass beat.

"That's dope," Billie nods in approval, clearly pleased with the evolving sound.

What do you want from me?  

Why don't you run from me?  

What are you wondering?  

What do you know?

"Ouuu!"

Why aren't you scared of me?

"I'm so proud of that one," Billie grins, pulling Storm close as they dance, sitting together on the bed.

Why do you care for me?  

When we all fall asleep,  

Where do we go?

"That's cool, right?" Finneas turns his spinning chair to gauge his bandmates’ reactions.

"I'm a genius!" Storm does a little hop, still in Billie’s hold.

"Yes, you are, kitten," Finneas smiles, nodding approvingly.

"This is what I want the album to be called." Billie opens her journal, revealing her title: "When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?" She shows the camera. "I actually drew this song and had Storm turn it into actual words."

"So far, the process for this album is Billie visualizes the concept, I translate her drawings and emotional descriptions into lyrics," Storm explains, pulling out her own journal, filled with polaroids of Billie’s drawings and next to them are her handwritten lyrics. "Then, during composition, Billie and I choose instruments based on the mood. For ‘Bury a Friend’, we wanted it dark and tense, so we leaned heavily on strings to make it feel like an ancient Roman, dark duel." She reveals her iPad, where she’s recorded each instrumental layer on BandLab. "Once the orchestral part and my layered vocals are done, I hand it off to Finneas to digitalize, replicating it with his setup. Finally, Billie adds her vocals, and we adjust as needed."

"This is the drawing of this song—it's all about monsters under the bed. I want to incorporate wings and do a scene where I drink black liquid, my eyes turn black, and then I bleed black tears."

"That's quite morbid, don't you think?" Storm raises an eyebrow at her friend. "I'm only fourteen. What kind of song do you think I can create that matches that?"

"If I have to, I’ll tape you to the couch and make you watch ‘Nightmare on Elm Street’," Billie smirks.

"That's evil," Storm pouts.

"Anyway," Billie flips the page, smiling as she shares her journal. "Here’s a self-portrait. This is some weird doll, some random guy, a foot. There are drips, and you can decide what they are. There's some bitch. There's a hairy vagina. There, a-- a dick.," she says, giving the camera a tour of her eclectic drawings.

"That's cool."

I can't say no  

I can't say no

Boom, step on the glass,  

Staple your tongue.

"Can we bring it back to the bad dream theme?" Finneas asks, looking for direction.

"The concept is realizing that what you’re experiencing isn’t just a nightmare; it’s actually sleep paralysis," Storm explains. "In songwriting, there’s a rule to hint at the truth without naming it outright. Based on YouTube videos, people with sleep paralysis feel like their eyes are glued open, trapped, only able to see a figure lurking in the corner."

Then my limbs all froze,  

And my eyes won't close.  

And I can't say no, I can't say no.

"Step on the glass, staple your tongue," Billie jumps up, thrilled as she belts out her favorite line.

XXX

“So, this isn’t the first shot,” Billie says to the camera as she films her mother, Maggie Baird, who’s sitting in a chair with Storm sitting on the table positioned in front of her mom. “But this is the angle I want once it zooms out—not fully to the side.”

“What are you doing right now?” Patrick O’Connell questions his daughter as he watches the scene from a distance.

“Shut up!” she quickly remarks, turning her attention back to directing. “And not to the front, just, like… so that…”

“Pepper, uh-uh,” Maggie scolds Pepper, the family dog, as the dog goes to chase after something that catches her eye.

“The chair leg, that’s, like, in the middle. So I want it to start…” Billie tunes out the background noise and continues directing for her upcoming music video.

“Where’s that cat?”

“…with nothing in the background—”

“Give her a gold star.”

“With nothing in the background except… except the white cyc and the white table.”

“Can I ask a question?” Storm raises her hand.

“What?” Billie looks up from the camera view.

“Why am I sitting criss-cross on a table in front of your mom, Mags?”

“Because that’s what you’re going to be doing in the video.”

“Who said I want to be in the video?” The white-haired girl raises her left eyebrow in confusion.

“I did. Now shut up, look possessed, and pass the cup over to my mom,” Billie curtly demands.

“Yes, Mommy,” Storm’s eyes widen in mock shock as she follows the demand.

“Once it gets to this point, I’ll take a drink. Start drinking it. I’m not sure if I want it to stay here while I drink, or if it should come up to me while I’m drinking it—” Maggie sets down the cup, thinking the action was finished, causing Billie to pause mid-thought and redirect her. “Wait, keep drinking. I’m still deciding if I want it. 'Cause I don’t know if I… or—want it to stay diagonal. 'Cause I’m not sure if I want it to…” She stops abruptly, realizing she’s rambling. “What am I even saying?” she exclaims, frustrated.

“That’s what we’re all trying to figure out,” Storm comments, struggling to follow Billie’s verbal brain dump.

“Did I tell you to talk?” Billie turns her head toward her best friend.

“No.” Storm drops her head. “I’m sorry, Mommy Billie.”

“Stop calling me that!” Billie exclaims, a laugh escaping after. “I don’t know if I want to see… Okay, wait. I’ve decided. It’s gonna be here. Once I start drinking, and I’ve been drinking for a second, it’ll come and stay even with this leg in the middle, and exactly parallel to the other leg.” She steps closer to her mother and zooms in on the camera. “Come in so that my face is centered. I think I’ll grab the glass with my left hand so that the shot makes more sense.” Maggie follows her daughter’s vision and adjusts her hand. “Thanks, Mom,” Billie chuckles. “Then you’ll see the black goo disappear as I drink it all. And then Storm will reach over and slowly take the cup away.” Storm, obediently following directions, places the cup back in the center of the table and pauses as a thought strikes her.

“Wait, am I the demon in this video?” She turns to Billie, who’s still recording.

“And then I’ll just look into the camera,” Billie decides to ignore the question and continues with her director’s notes.

“Am I?” Storm repeats.

“And then it’ll stay right there. Don’t zoom! Don’t do any of those flashy moves these bozo filmmakers try to add just to keep things interesting.” Billie’s tone grows stern as she emphasizes her creative control.

“You’re working with a great director,” Maggie interrupts her daughter, not wanting her to get too worked up or overly demanding about the video’s details.

“Shut up!”

“He’s a genius.”

“Yeah, sure, but I’m telling you, don’t be an idiot. Don’t move the camera, and as I look into it, the black will drip from my eyes.”

“I just want to know whether or not I’m the demon in this video?” The camera shifts back to Storm.

“Yes, you are. Happy?” Billie finally answers.

“Why a demon? Can’t I be something friendlier?” Storm gives her best puppy-dog eyes, hoping it’ll sway Billie.

“No.”

“Okay,” Storm sighs.

“Billie, be nice to Stormy,” Maggie chides her daughter, giving Storm, who’s like a second daughter to her, a gentle pat.

“I’m always nice to her. Right, Peaches?”

“N-”

“I’ve got a mini-verse ball with your name on it,” Billie offers a playful bribe, knowing it’ll work.

“Billie treats me so well,” Storm offers a big smile. “She treats me so well I wouldn’t know what to do without her.”

“See?” Billie turns to her mother with a triumphant look.

“That was just sad, Stormy,” Maggie playfully shakes her head. 

XXX

In a scene that felt like a manifestation of their dreams, the girls found themselves on set for ‘When the Party’s Over’. After an hour in makeup applying prosthetics for the black tears Billie envisioned in her video, they were ready to film. On a wide, white podium, Storm sat perched with her mouth agape and head tilted, mimicking possession. Billie, seated in front of her, held a cup of black ink, a crucial prop. Slowly, Storm extended her hand, taking the cup from Billie in a deliberate, practiced motion.

“Put it down. Slowly.” The cup touched the table with a soft clink. “Reset it. We’ll try it again.” After another cut, they repeated the scene because Billie wasn’t sure what expression she wanted for the next shot.

“Cut. Cut, cut, cut, cut.”

“I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do,” Billie voiced her frustration as they reviewed the playback.

“Keep an eye on the shot when Storm takes the glass, and it’s still in the air before she sets it down. I think you break character when you feel like the camera isn’t on you anymore,” the director began before Billie interjected.

“It’s still capturing me?”

“Yeah, so the idea is for you to stay in character until the camera is solely back on you for your ending expression,” the director explained.

“Got it. But I can’t tell when it’s fully back on me, so if you could call it out, that’d be great.”

“You want me to say, like, ‘Billie camera’?”

“Yeah,” Billie agreed, adding specifics, “or just, ‘Camera’s coming back to you.’ Then I’ll know to get my face ready.”

“Okay. Cool.”

Once again, they went over the scene, and this time they completed it without issues.

“Cut. Yeah.” The crew applauded as the shot concluded, Billie’s face smeared with black ink while Storm remained fixed, staring at her.

“For the next videos, I’m directing them all myself,” Billie declared, walking off set hand-in-hand with Storm as they headed toward her mother.

“What?” Maggie looked at the girls in confusion. “What happened?”

“He just wasn’t it. The video wasn’t it, but I don’t want to make everyone redo everything,” Billie shook her head, running a hand through her hair. “He only took some of the notes I gave him; the rest was his own ‘creative vision’ or whatever.”

“It’s okay, honey,” Storm tried to comfort her friend, hopeful that this was just a minor issue that would fade once the project was finished.

“No, it’s not,” Billie sighed, looking to her mother. “The whole point was for Peaches and me to end forehead-to-forehead, white eyes meeting black eyes. Not with us at a distance, black eyes meeting black eyes. Peaches’ signature look is white eyes—when has anyone ever seen her with black eyes?”

“Did you tell the director you wanted Stormy with white eyes?” Maggie attempted to stay neutral, hoping to salvage the experience.

“Yes!” Billie exclaimed. “He said her white eyes wouldn’t make sense with the black goo. But Storm having black eyes makes even less sense! She looks weird with black eyes—everything about her is practically white except for her skin tone. But no white eyes, yet they’re okay with a red lip?”

“I looked weird?” Storm asked, looking up at Billie.

“No,” Billie sighed, pulling her friend into a hug, resting her head on top of Storm’s. “You looked fine. I’m just aggravated that I took the time to plan this video, and I wasn’t listened to,” she mumbled into Storm’s white hair.

“Call it a lesson learned,” Storm offered optimistically. “Now you know what you like and don’t like, and you’ll know what to do for the next ones.”

XXX

“Record this,” Billie suddenly stood up behind the studio microphone. “Record this. Oh.” She put her hand to her mouth to remove her Invisalign, sucking slightly to keep any drool contained.

“Oh, my God,” Finneas laughed.

“Eww,” Storm grimaced, instinctively touching her own Invisalign.

“The first track of the album should just be that,” Billie laughed, plopping onto her brother’s bed.

“All right, I’ve taken my teeth out. Let’s make an album,” Finneas jokes.

“I’ve taken my teeth out,” the girls laughed.

“My Invisalign has…”

“I have taken out my Invisalign…” the trio chanted together, adding to the joke.

“I have taken out my Invisalign… and this is the album,” Billie grinned. “Peaches, you should take yours out, too.”

“That’d be a spit nightmare,” Storm shook her head, shivering at the thought. 

XXX

"Blocking an intersection during rush hour traffic is not permitted unless you entered the intersection on a green light." Billie’s goal for the year is to get her driver’s license, and she’s very determined—even if it means studying after a two-hour session in Finneas's studio. “Under any circumstances, even if your light is green, unless you have the right-of-way or a green light—it's under any circumstances,” she read aloud. “Because if there’s traffic and it’s stopped, you can’t enter the intersection. That blocks everything. That’s illegal. Yeah, so... no.”

“It’s called ‘don’t block the box,’” Storm chimes in from her spot, lying with her head on Billie’s lap.

“Yes, correct.”

“That’s what they say in New York. ‘Don’t block the box,’” Maggie adds to Storm’s comment.

“That about vagina,” Billie shakes her head. “And how do you know that?”

“You literally won’t stop reading the handbook out loud,” Storm sighs. “I’m pretty sure if I wanted to take the test, I’d pass.”

“You could take it and get your learner’s permit,” Patrick suggests.

“No, thank you. I’m meant to be driven, not the person doing the driving,” Storm says, a little sass showing through.

“You gonna be my passenger princess,” Billie babbles in a baby voice, covering her best friend’s face in kisses.

“Get off me!” Storm laughs, trying to push Billie away, though she’s still lying on her lap.

“Never!”

"I’ve always wanted to drive. I just, like, love cars,” Billie says from the passenger seat of her dad’s car, talking to the camera facing the back seats. Today was the day Billie was officially given legal permission to start learning how to drive, having passed her permit test. “Of course, my mom has a van, my dad has a Mazda, and Finneas has a Honda Fit, so I’m just, like, drowning in losers.”

“Oh, my gosh,” Maggie laughs at her daughter’s comments.

“All I want is a matte black Dodge Challenger.” Billie stops mid-sentence as her phone vibrates in her lap. Picking it up, she sees a text notification from Storm. “Peaches just texted me,” she announces to everyone in the car. Opening the text, she finds a picture. “Ahh, my best friend loves me!” she cheers, bouncing in her seat and tapping the roof of her dad’s car. She turns her phone to show everyone the picture Storm sent.

“She bought me gifts, decorated my room with balloons, and I’m pretty sure those are Polaroids of us hanging from the ceiling,” Billie gushes, turning the phone back to herself to admire the picture.

“That’s so beautiful,” Maggie smiles, clearly appreciating the special friendship her daughter shares, something many people long for.

taglist @allaboutnayeli @zendayasredbottoms @tacoboutstuff @jules19sstuff @siyuziii @danc1ngqu33n @christiniawcb @riddlette13 @thebignunfun @xxloveralways14 @lordfarquad-k @rhearipley-69 @danversrailme @amberg1998 @zzzz-zzz1 @htttpcasti @lidiyabest @wwelovergirl @lesbianpoetess @jamiemundy7773 @pixelorange06 @steampunkprincess147 @brbblog123 @h3artss44le @harajukub4rb1e @billiesrighthand

[gaykarstaagforever]

1969

Jim Shooter wrote this, so it is significantly less idiotic than most of these.

That said...

Most of the plot - Superman and the Flash having amnesia and thinking each is the other one - hinges on the fact that they are identical men, except with different hair. Which seems implausible, since one is a magical alien with super-strength from the Sun, and the other is a nerd who was near exploding go-fast chemicals. But I guess it at least acknowledges how DC artists could only draw one muscley man over and over again in different skin-tight unitards. Fair enough, Jim.

We also get the weirdest random explanation for where Superman stores his Clark Kent clothes:

Clark Kent and Barry Allen spend most of the story running back and forth from Central City to Metropolis, desperately trying to find each-other to figure out what the hell is happening. Barry uses makeup to look like Clark Kent and gets almost-fired by Perry White for being bad at reporting on weddings. Because while this comic takes time to remind us Barry is a "police scientist," Perry also says he writes like a child.

Which...I mean, seems kind of rude to me, especially coming from someone who writes superhero comics for 8 year olds for a living. But I don't solve murders with science. So if you do, please confirm if you and your colleagues don't know how to write.

Eventually, Clark and Barry accidentally meet clandestinely on a Metropolis park bench. But Barry is dressed like Raphael from the Ninja Turtles, so they still don't figure it out:

...Why does this look like something someone drew from a picture they took from a bush? Is that just me? That might just be me.

This, however, is 100% exactly what it looks like:

They finally meet in an abandoned train tunnel and figure out each is the other, and trade clothes.

So it is canon in DC comics that Clark Kent and Barry Allen have been nude together in a train station, at least once. And then traded underpants.

Clark suddenly remembers what happened to them (possibly from the shock of being naked with Barry Allen; the comic breezes over this). There is giant space seed flying towards Earth, carrying the spore of a monster space plant that will grow to consume all life. Superman saw it and summoned the JLA to help him, but only the Flash showed up, because "Green Lantern is off helping Hawkman," and...I guess Jim forgot who else was in the JLA at the time.

Good on Barry for showing up, but how exactly is he going to help Superman stop a threat that is still in Space?

Answer: he is not. But Superman came up with a plan where he and Barry changed outfits to confuse the space seed (yes, really), and then Barry put on a helmet and Clark flew them both into it.

...At which point he suddenly realized it had kryptonite in it. He and Barry fell to Earth, unharmed but with amnesia.

But now that they're inexplicably cured by re-switching pants, it is time to hurry up and actually stop the space seed. Superman draws Barry a helpful diagram of his plan:

...Thanks, Kal-El. Totally worth the time it took to do that.

Assuming, like me, you have no goddamn idea what his plan is, think of the absolute dumbest way Superman could save the Earth from a giant kernel of space-corn. And that is exactly what he does:

He temporarily stops the Earth by making the ground really hard (specifically in Brazil, for some reason), and then repeatedly doing flying elbow drops onto it. Which, I won't lie, is exactly the awesome way all problems would be solved if we lived in a better universe where wrestling was real, and wrestlers were Superman.

...I still assume this probably killed at least a few people. Or fish, at least, on the daylight side where the Sun suddenly boiled an entire ocean.

Also, note how this "new" Superman plan ALSO DIDN'T INVOLVE THE FLASH WHATSOEVER. Except that he came along and narrated it for our benefit, while Superman was repeatedly smashing himself into Brazil.

The story ends with Barry hugging his wife and Clark musing to himself how he and Barry can trust each-other with their secret identities from now on, because their balls sweat into the same Spandex for like a week.

Implying that, what, the members of the JLA go into that WITHOUT knowing who each-other are? I mean, I of course see Batman pulling shit like that. But Wonder Woman and Hawkman barely have secret identities to begin with.

But I guess if Clark and Barry have exactly the same proportions and faces, maybe it doesn't really matter either way.

This issue also features the following ad for jeans:

I don't know if cattle-rustling was still such a huge problem in the West by 1969. But if you are a teen boy keen to take it upon yourself to stop it, I suppose it makes sense you should make sure your butt looks good while doing it.

Also, if you need more cheap plastic armies in your house,

[tartiflvtte]

First Encounter | Homelander

hello! here's the very first one shot i've ever written for Homelander (and hopefully the first of many). This is based off the first time Homelander meets Qilin. Even though this is based off of my OC it's can also be read as Homelander x Fem Asian!Reader as no physical description occurs in this except powers/shapeshifting descriptions.

Summary: Homelander meets the path of something, or someone? That will change the course of his life. Timeline: Pre-Canon (2014) Words count: 1,1k Warnings: None!

It was a sunny day, with a few clouds in the sky, and a usual boring patrol. Fucking annoying, Homelander thought. The only thing that kept him from missing them was the cheers he was getting when he was a bit too close to regular people. Honestly, it was a bit nice, just a bit though. He was flying so fast, soaring through the city clouds, he was only checking if someone needed any help. But to be honest? He didn’t care. Nothing thrilling was happening today. Homelander debated whether he preferred patrolling or shooting the most random ad for a useless Vought product. 

Ugh, he thought, either way, that day was as basic as usual, an ad or not wouldn’t change how bored Homelander was. Not enough spectacular saves, not enough cheers, not enough praises. Can we get this over with, he thought. He wanted to get back to the Vought Tower and just have a break. Until he smelled something unusual, well, more like, unknown. It was the first time he smelled something like this. He rushed towards it, not even questioning anything.

And that was when he saw it, for the first time. The Cloud Beast, people called it. He always found the name ridiculous because he wasn’t able to visualize how massive The Beast was. It was… probably bigger than an elephant. Homelander couldn’t process the information, because The Beast saw him. It approached him, leaving a trail of clouds behind it, and made a long eye contact with Homelander. 

The Beast was impressive. It looked like a horse… Or a deer, maybe a bit of both. But with scales, oh a lot of scales, a large tail that fades with the clouds, and a mane… a mane that moved as if it had a will. Its fur was a sort of blue canary, and the scales were darker. The mane was white but with a black gradient on the end. Oh and did I mention the long almost ethereal gold mustache that Asian dragons also have? Yeah, Homelander was struggling to process what he saw.

The Beast was still staring down at Homelander, not moving. It looked almost like it was amused by the Supe. The Supe couldn't draw his eyes away, until he heard his heart beating faster, and felt some sweat on his neck and forehead. Oh dear, was he scared? The Beast felt it. Homelander was scared, so The Beast just approached him a bit closer. But it drew Homelander to the edge, and he fled as fast as he could.

Oh shit, Holy fucking fucking shit! He thought. He fled to the Seven Tower roof and stayed on for a few minutes. It felt like hours. Homelander knew that this… beast existed, but he never saw it from his own eyes. And now what? He was supposed to be the greatest American Superhero, and he fucking fled because that… thing scared him! He felt ridiculous. He ran his gloved hand into his hair, sighing. Compound V did incredible things, yes, but its range was so unpredictable. He knew that there was a person behind the Beast, the question was, did it talk? Did it even have a human form? It should have one because you can’t fucking hide a monster that big! 

But wait, was it really a monster? For Homelander, it was one for sure, but he was curious. Too curious. He quickly made his way into the Vought Tower and called for Madelyn. He stormed into The Seven’s Room and quickly took a seat, fidgeting with whatever he could find. Madelyn came a bit after, obviously in a rush. 

“I have work to do. I hope it’s important Homelander.”

He took a moment before answering.

“You wouldn’t leave your office If you knew it was not serious. I’m going to be straightforward, do you know anything about « The Cloud Beast »?” 

She froze. And Homelander saw it very clearly. He raised an eyebrow at her and waited for her to answer.

“We…” She cleared her throat. “We have barely any information on it. We just know that they call themselves «Qilin», Cloud Beast is just a name that people gave them because they’re scared each time it flies in the sky.” She paused, feeling the intense gaze of Homelander on her. 

“From what we know it’s a Supe that can shapeshift into this creature. Apparently, it’s a creature from Chinese mythology, that’s why they want to be called Qilin. Not a lot of people saw their actual human form but it seems that some sources describe them as a masked woman in a Chinese-inspired hero suit.”

The Supe clenched his fist, the more he listened, the more he was curious. He wanted to know who was behind this enormous creature. He wanted to know if it was powerful, he wanted to know everything. Homelander wasn’t the curious type, oh no, but this moment when Qilin and he were staring at each other made him feel so many different emotions.

He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he felt weak, and powerless, in front of the Beast. It was the main reason why he ran away, but at the same time, he was drawn to the creature, he wanted to stay, observe it, follow its path. It was so conflicting for him, he never felt so… confused. Madelyn was still talking but he was lost in his thoughts.

He clenched his jaw, then looked back at Madelyn. His expression was unreadable and it threw Madelyn off. 

“Thank you for all of this important information.” He didn’t seem sincere, as usual, but it seemed he was thinking of doing something he shouldn’t do. He stood up pretty abruptly, which made Madelyn jump a bit. 

“Homelander, I hope you’re not thinking of doing anything irresponsible?” He snorted.

“I’m serious. We barely know anything about this woman, let the other supes and the Crime Analytics take care of this.”

He sighed as he headed towards the door. “Fine. But I’ll need reports! Every little thing, whatever saves or little apparition she makes I want to know.” His voice was firm. Madelyn didn’t feel like questioning any of his decisions when he was as stubborn as he was. So she just agreed without complaining.

He then left without saying a word, directing himself to his penthouse. He was tense, and a bit frustrated. The sun was already setting down. As he made his way inside his penthouse, he took off his gloves and let himself fall on the couch while running a hand into his blonde hair. Little did he know that this day was about to change his life. Little did he know that he would think of this first encounter every day until he would see her again. Little did he know that The Beast was so much more than just a mythical creature and that he would be the one that we call a Monster.

taglist: @sunshinetomioka