#idk im open to suggestions

[fireheartpages]

survived | b.d.

bodhi durran x reader chapter five. series masterlist summary: everyone has their demons, you just chose to run from yours. straight to basgiath war college. and definitely not towards the grinning tall, dark, and handsome marked rider that seemed too kind to be in a hardened place like the rider's quadrant. when you catch his attention and bond a conundrum of a dragon, you finally feel like you can catch your breath. until your signet develops. word count: 2.4k notes: second person pov, reader uses she/her pronouns, has a dirty dancing nickname and a last name. this one’s kinda heavy! mentions of struggling with self worth and trauma, talks about death and an allusion to suicide. if you hear someone buzzing with excitement, it's just me, don't worry! this is the idea i had stuck in my head, for quite a few reasons, and i wanted so badly to get it out on page and now its in my hands ah. not even kidding when i say this concept was eating me alive form the inside out. this feels like the closing chapter, so tbh idk if im gonna write anything more. if i come up with something, or anyone has any requests, i’ll get my pen to page tho :)

You were a good student. A great one, even.

You were top of most classes, feeling like you needed to prove something, and if you weren’t top, one of your friends were, and you were right behind them. And it was true—you were an incredible rider. You could stand on Shocair’s back, and shift your weight and she would bank with the direction. You’d taken up archery, another thing you excelled at. Your aim could use some improvement, but you were getting better. A little more practice, and you could consider yourself a decent shot. And despite your signet not developing yet, you were perfecting your smaller magics. And at sparring—

At sparring, you were okay. Kind of.

You could hold your own, and you were quick. Fast feet and good reflexes, but it was as if you didn’t know how to use those skills.

You were not top of challenges, to say the least.

“Yield!” you gasp, face to the mat as a boy from Second Wing attempts to crush your windpipe. “I yield!”

He lets up, laughing at you, and you roll onto your back, catching your breath. You blink a few times, willing the spots from your vision, but it gets darker and—

No, there’s just someone standing over you.

“Hi, Bodhi,” you rasp up to him.

“Hi, Baby,” he says, extending a hand.

“Hi.” You’re panting a little, but at least your vision is focusing.

“That was…”

“Pathetic. I know.” You wipe the sweat from your forehead and a tear from your eye as your wrist gives protest. You probably smashed it with a bad punch.

“I was not going to say that,” he says, grin tugging at the corner of your mouth. That corner of his lips was one of your favorite things at Basgiath.

“It’s okay,” you say. “At least I’m aware of it.”

“I can help,” he says, a little too quick to be casual, but you don’t mind. It makes you smile.

Your brows raise. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He drops your hand, and only then did you realize he was still holding it. “We can practice sparring.”

“You just… want to help me?” You furrow your brow. “Out of the kindness of your heart?”

“Uh—” He falters. “If you teach me how to ride like you do, I’ll teach you how to spar.”

You nod slowly. “Sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” you say, fighting a losing battle with your smile. His eyes were dancing. “When do we start?”

“Now.” He offers you a hand, and leads you over to an empty mat.

“You’re quick, and you’re smart, and when you win, it’s by outsmarting your opponent,” he says over his shoulder, coming to stand in the middle of the mat. He removes his daggers, tossing them on the floor beside the mat and leaving one strapped to his arm. He spins to face you. “Easy money.” He taps his arm where the remaining dagger sits. “Take it from me.”

You shake your head. “Okay.”

You lunge, going for his feet, and he jumps, landing and taking a knee that knocks your own until you’re kneeling, and he’s on top of you, pressing you to the floor. You feel his laugh rumble through his chest against your back, his breath on the side of your face.

“Did I say easy?” he teases.

“You dick—” You struggle, but it’s futile. He lays there for a beat longer, pinning you with his body weight, and you have a flash of an image in your mind, him on top of you, in between your hips—

“Focus.” It's Shocair. Your next exhale is a thanks.

He relents, standing up, offering you a hand, and you’re barely on your feet again before he twists it behind you.

“Take me down,” he said, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You—you falter. Fuck. This guy is distracting.

He wrenches your arm away, pushing you away from him, and you’re helpless as you step out and back into him. He pulls you close, and there’s no viciousness in it, no mirth—he’s near gentle as he wraps an arm around you, over your neck, and his other hand disables your free one. He kicks the back of your knee again and beings you both down until you’re kneeling.

“What do you do now, Baby?” It’s your name, but it’s so obviously not, and he’s grinning. This asshole is kicking your ass without even trying and he’s still. Fucking. Grinning.

Gods, you suck at this.

No, actually, fuck this.

You twist your neck so you’re nose to nose with him—kinda, you have to look up to see his face, and he’s already looking down at you. You suck in a breath, looking at his lips. His grip loosens.

Your twist, dragging your joined hands behind you until you’re facing him and you let your body weight fall back. He lands on top of you, right as you knee him in the balls.

He doubles over with a gasp, and you take the opportunity to head butt him. You hear the impact, and you shove him off of you. You jump up, snatching the dagger from his arm band.

“I did it!” you shout, victorious.

“That’s my girl,” Shocair sends down the bond with a beat of pride.

Bodhi rolls over, clutching his face, and you offer him a hand. He takes it, and it takes more strength than it should to get him standing. You rub your forehead where you had hit him, a little sore. This man is pure muscle, even in his face.

He takes his hand away, and it’s bloody. Your eyes widen, a gasp slipping from you.

“Oh my gods. I’m so sorry!” You rush to him, hands cradling the side of your face.

“Nah,” he says, grinning even now. “All’s fair in love and war.”

Your stomach clenches at the words. “Please tell me I didn’t break your nose.”

He shakes his head. “I think the bleeding’s stopping, so, no, not broken.” He tips his head back.

“No, wait,” you say, placing a hand on the back of his neck. “Forward, or else all the blood is gonna end up in your stomach.”

Bodhi flinches. “I don’t have anything to stop the bleeding.”

You glance around frantically, looking for something, anything, before landing on your own t-shirt. You grasp Bodhi’s dagger—now yours, by the laws of the codex—in your hand and rip a band of it, cropping it to your navel before handing the black fabric to him. He takes it and presses it to his nose.

“You did not have to do that,” he says, words muffled.

“I broke your nose. Yes, I did.” You gently pull his hand away, examining his face, cradling his jaw with one hand. Besides being beautiful and a bit red, and smeared with blood, you didn’t see any bruising.

His eyes trace your expression, landing on your lips, and he just… stares. And stares.

“I think you’re okay,” you say softly.

“I know I am.” He’s grinning again, invisible string tugging that corner up. Your hands are on his face, and this is your chance—you run your thumb along his lips as if you could smooth out his smile—but you don’t want to. The way it tilts to one side is quite possibly your favorite thing about him.

“You have a bruise forming.” His thumb comes up, brushing the skin of your temple—presumably from where you had nearly broken his nose.

“It’s your snout,” you whisper.

"Hey." His grin softens, and he leans down, pressing a kiss to the bruise.

“Shit,” he says, reaching up and wiping the cloth over it. “Sorry, blood.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling out of you as your heart rate kicks up again. And he just stares at you again, like his gaze is stuck.

“I love your laugh,” he says, like a secret, like it’s a whispered admission.

“Your smile,” you responded, equally as quiet, and suddenly you’re little kids at a sleepover, sharing secrets by candlelight, “it’s my favorite thing about you.”

That just widened his grin, and you let your ambitions run free, running your thumb over his bottom lip, cleaning off the blood that had spilled as you beam back at him.

He’s looking at your lips, and he leans in.

Someone drops a weight across the gym, and it makes you jump, creating space between the two of you, and there’s some mix of longing and disappointment in his eyes as you stop back.

“I should go,” you say. “Sorry. About your nose.”

“Sorry about your head,” he says.

You’re walking away, grabbing your flight jacket when he calls, “Tomorrow? Can I see you tomorrow?”

“Let’s go flying tomorrow evening,” you say over your shoulder. “I have a thing or two to show you.”

“I’ll be an eager student!” he says, and you smile all the way back to your dorm.

You let a mender fix the blossoming bruise on your temple when your vanity wins out. The next morning, Shocair has some choice words for you, all of which you ignore, in favor of playing the almost kiss over and over again in your head.

(You don’t even bother to block you out, and it’s something like excitement, or contentment that fills your chest every time you think about how he was looking at you, and you realize it wasn’t your emotions at all.)

You’re sitting at the table in the library, next to Violet and Rhiannon as you comb over another textbook on signets. You and Violet had taken to sharing notes you find, seeing if you can figure out how to get your signets to develop. Rhi is practically doing Violet's physics homework for her.

Dain is here, for some reason, probably because he’s panting after Violet—and everyone can see it. You’re pretty sure this is some attempt to get back in her good graces. She’s having none of it. The four of you are sitting in silence.

You’re just on a rather interesting part about the reflection of a signet on the rider when you hear,

“I just don’t get it.”

You turn, a little unable to suppress the way your nose scrunches up at Dain’s voice. “What did you just say to me?”

Dain looks at you, confused. “What?”

“Did you not—”

“Hush.” That was Shocair.

“Thought I heard something,” you say, the panic down the bond making you heed the warning. “Sorry, never mind.”

The girls don’t even spare you a second glance, just go back to the work in front of them.

“New subtleties must be taken into account when we investigate causality in quantum mechanics and relativistic quantum field theory in particular. In those two theories, causality—” It’s Rhi’s voice, and you look up, wondering why she’s reading aloud, but—

Her lips aren’t moving.

“Despite these subtleties, causality remains an important and valid concept in—”

“Shocair,” you send down the bond.

“Take a deep breath,” she says into your mind.

You do as told.

“Stretch, like you’re tired.”

You again do as she tells you, throwing in a fake-stifled yawn as you do so.

“Get your things and come to the flight field. Now. Make up an excuse.”

“I’m getting tried,” you say, your pulse kicking up.

All three sets of eyes turn to you.

“I’m gonna head out.”

“Should I—”

“Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?” Dain asks.

“No,” you say, a little too quick. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“That was weird.”

“I hope she’s okay.”

“Does she—”

You clamp your eyes shut, and you try your best not to run from the room.

“Shocair.”

“Get here. Now.”

“Tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” you send to her, panic rising in your throat.

“Run.”

You do so, taking off and making it to the flight field in mere minutes.

“Shocair!” you shout.

She’s in front of you, navy scales glittering in the morning light. She wordlessly extends a leg to you, and you climb on, willing tears not to fall.

She takes off, and you’re not even sure where you’re going. She just flies, and you don’t unseat. Don’t stand, don’t ride the wind as if you were the one with wings. Just grip her pommel for dear life until she lands on a cliff side, leg extended for you to dismount.

You step off, and there isn’t a soul around you. The cliffs almost remind you of home. There’s no ocean at their base, but the view is beautiful nonetheless.

Did she bring you here so you could end it yourself, before anyone else has the chance to? To give you the dignity of choosing your own death?

“Tell me this isn’t my signet,” you say, a whisper on the wind, and you hear shuffling behind you. When you turn, Shocair’s head is lowered, her eyes lidded as the first tear falls. She blinks slowly, and it’s like an apology as she touches the tip of her nose to the center of your chest.

“Tell me I’m not an inntinnsic,” you plead, as if you could ask the gods themselves to change it.

Shocair says nothing, just nuzzles against your chest.

“I survived,” you say. It comes out a sob. “I survived the rebellion. I survived my father, and fleeing to the other side of the province. I survived parapet, and the Gauntlet, and Threshing, and every challenge I’ve been faced with—all of it. I have survived, and my own mind is going to be what kills me?”

“I will protect you.”

“You can’t protect me from the law!” You’re crying in earnest now, and you’re pretty sure this sort of weakness is what would prompt another dragon to kill their rider, but Shocair is looking at you with her own mix of worry and rage—and something akin to an apology. “They’ll find out! And if they don’t, what am I supposed to do? Pretend like I never developed a signet, and it just never affects me?”

She blinks, and shifts until your palm lays flat against her nose, like she had at Threshing. When she’d chosen you.

“I chose you for your mind,” she says, repeating those words—the ones from that day.

You sink to your knees, tears streaming down your face. Shocair settles into the grass in front of you, and you bend until your temple is touching her nose. Sobs wrack your body, and you can’t breathe, but it doesn’t matter. The world had stopped spinning, anyway.

This was it. This was the end. There was no surviving this.

[mamaspidershit]

debating on whether or not to switch up the blogs name,,, hmmmm

[himulrai]

Orion Swap AU Part 2! (Previous | Next | Fic)

please ignore the glaring inconsistencies in each panel pretend i don't switch colours randomly for no reason

[7-ferrets-in-a-coat]

Yeah ok they are Really fun to draw actually what the hell

[kavalyera]

nosferatu concept oc i had running in my mind. i seriously have wayyy too much vtm oc concepts in my head. anyways this guy’s an ex noh theatre performer say hi !!

they/them…. for now

[machinegrl]

˗ˏˋ bloo lagoon boathouse- lot download (NO CC) ˎˊ˗

info:

residential lot

NO CC (requires most packs)

30 x 20

turn on bb.moveobjects before placing

play tested and everything worked fine for me but if for some reason something doesn't work feel free to edit it!

t.o.u:

feel free to use however you want!

but don't claim it as yours

don't re-upload

you're welcome to tag me if you use it! i'd love to see it <3

download (always free) watch my lil speedbuild hereee 🖤

[freaky-flawless]

Headless Headmistress Bloodgood redesign!

I've been wanting to redesign her for a while, in a way that would marry the aspects from each of her designs that I like. I'm pretty happy with how she turned out!

At some point I would like to design some more Monster High teachers and staff, because no matter what gen, that school is struggling.

[pilkypills]

I was thinking about what Bofur and Bombur's mother might be like. She's the younger sister of Bifur's father.

I think she's a conscientious and considerate dam that's used to making more out of less and powering through bad circumstances with a smile. Bofur and Bombur's father died while they were still children, leaving her to raise them as a single mother (with Bifur's help, of course). She's worked for most of her life as a cook in a miner's canteen. Her late husband taught her to play the flute, a skill she's passed on to Bofur.

She's kind of thin for a dwarf, a leftover effect of being a sickly child. When Bofur and Bombur were born she was secretly terrified they wouldn't be healthy and, even though they are, she still worries from time to time. She is mostly retired by the time of the Quest, spending most of her time helping Bombur's wife look after her children.

The pet name she uses for Bofur is constructed from the Dwarrow Scholar's technique for creating diminutives, though I can't guarantee I've done it correctly. It means "tiny waterfall", referring to his chatterbox tendencies :)

Bombur's nickname (tiny sparkle) is similar, made and provided by the Dwarrow Scholar in this post here.

[creaturefeaster]

which character/s in colorquest is currently getting a redesign?

Gary is still getting tweaked here and there, it's a slow and on-going process.

While I don't plan on changing much else about him, recently I've decided to give Chickenstab's host a tail. (See: my latest doodle page from a handful of days ago)

I've been debating changing Hannah's initial outfit lately as well. She's from a part of Stolla that is much warmer year-round, but having moved much higher up, starting the story in mid-late October, it's rather chilly for her to be wearing thin shorts, flip-flops and a tank top. But, I've not thought too much into exactly what this new outfit would be, and I'd still hold on to this outfit for a different, warmer part of the story because I love it too much to ever fully part ways with it.

I've been fiddling with April's bangs lately too. I don't have a picture on hand at the moment but I'll try to tack it onto this post later when I do, but I've always been a little iffy about her bangs. Especially with Elliot's being similar, I feel like the bang style fits his hair more than it fits April.

Nobody has gotten a huge overhaul design change yet, but I definitely feel something bubbling within me to give a huge makeover to a character or two. I just have to figure out if there's a design I'm not happy with that I've just been suppressing. Because I tend to do that from time to time lol.

[gobstoppr]

im making all the madoka cast into furries. heres sayaka but a sea lion 👍👍👍👍😁😊🦦

[bacchuschucklefuck]

the never stop blowing up vhs is where cute twinks go to get harmed

[amygdalae]

ok but a mortuary science degree. hmmm

[bandanad33]

Scisspunch ship kid blast!!!!! How is this possible with two circles? Who knows!!!

[midnightfire830]

Gooseworx said on the glitchx stream there wasn’t enough Dapper Jax. So here are my little doodles of Jax in a suit.

Damnnit… as if I couldn’t fall for this man anymore…

Also for that middle one I apparently have forgotten all perspective and foreshortening techniques in my arsenal so I now formally apologize for the atrocity you all have see that is whatever the heck Jax’s freaking arm is.

Ye.

✌️

[froggiewrites]

If anyone has any strong opinions on what job Ace would have in the modern day/if he wasn't a pirate please let me know, I'm writing something and I can't decide

[ivoreene]

nanami boobie warm up surprise. what is the best time for me to post for everyone….?