#in one of them i forgot to draw his horns rip

[riiza]

ofc I did some rough sketches of tom ♡ in my lil art notebook. Not sure if this is great cause I didn't want him to turn out weird, but I tried!!

[kurakurakura99]

Thinking about Changeling:The Lost and how the concept of the Fetch as allegory is kinda genius to a trans/nonbinary reading. The fetch is a facsimile left in the place of victims, spirited away and changed by the true Fae. It is impossible for most people to ever tell the difference:one could go their entire lives without suspecting that your family member has been replaced, but the fetch is different:it is static, resistant to change. the fetch of a child will grow up like you'd expect it to, and grow old as its expected to, as well, and nothing more:it follows the path that blends it in. Does things that those around them would look at go, "oh, they would do that. That is so like them." Consider the plight of a trans person snatched away before they came out, or their egg cracked. It stands to reason that their fetch would NEVER transition:Their family expects their boy to grow into a young man. A deviation from that pattern draws the wrong kind of attention. And when that person comes back, changed by their time in Arcadia, they might behold the Fetch living in their shoes: The imagery of Her family enjoying a holiday dinner with Him springs to my mind. And whats worse is that the family probably likes the fetch better. fathers and mothers pass the gravy to their perfect son when in another life, without the intervention of the kindly ones, they would have ran their true child from the family home when they came out. The same true child that watches from a window now as they share their hearth with an invader, a body snatcher of sorts. Thats gotta sting. I know how much it stings because my family forced me back into the closet multiple times:They simply ignored my confession that I didn't fit in the neat category of "boy" that had been lovingly prepared for me. They told me I wasn't transgender and that was that to them, or they just outright forgot after a while. I have been both the fetch and the changeling at the same time in this scenario. The question is, what does the changeling do now? does she simply vanish in the night like I did, leaving the past life to be content with its fake memory of her, or does she burst through the window and take that fake memory, cave in the loathsome imposters skull until he collapses into twig and twine and leaves, ripping that happiness and baring cruel, unbelievable reality like tusks at everyone witnessing the event? Does she meet her false self in secret, and try to work with it, understand it? That reminds me of half-measures I've seen taken by friends. Call me by my deadname around my dad. Please. I think the most horrifying outcome from a trans perspective is that of replacing the fetch:doing away with it in secret and concealing the truth about yourself to slip into your old life. But that life no longer belongs to you: His flat chest and blunt teeth are antithetical to who you really are, now. Your claws and yellowed eyes and femininity are going to scratch under that false skin forever, until you take it off. Maybe you'll do it in secret, letting your horns breath in nightclubs and venues and forest paths far from the eyes of the people who knew the false you (in both senses of the term) or maybe you'll stuff your true nature away as far and deep as you can, even if it destroys you. Change is deeply, deeply terrifying after all.

[chowtrolls]

Written in the Stars

Google Docs Mondes -> @/byrdstrolls Mystery Wolf Man (& drawing at end) -> @/homicidalfantrolls

To say you, Jodiah Monark, felt powerful would be a horrific understatement. Beautiful, confident, elegant- combine those with powerful, and you might just hit the tip of your emotional iceberg. The mask you had spent so many hours perfecting seemed to have unlocked a new personality within you. One even more cocky than your usual self. It was exhilarating. Face completely hidden, not a drop of lime in sight. Your dress glittered in the light. You stood out amongst the clownish dark colors. A rather plain glimmering dress in the sea of overdone patterns and frills. You weren’t seeking any Ball King nomination so the theme wasn’t ultimately that important to you. In the end, you decided the chunky knee-high boots helped too.

Those shoes weren’t easy to dance in, but you made it work pretty well. By the Messiahs did you dance- twirling your kismesis around until he looked like he was green in the metaphorical gills. Then you promised him you wouldn’t go far, left him seated by the snack table with a bonk. You picked random strangers to twirl with after that. But you never strayed far from your kismesis- you did promise, after all. Finally, once you had your momentary fill of attention from strangers, you flopped down in a seat next to your poor abandoned kismesis, out of breath. 

“I didn’t know you liked dancing.” He said simply, voice muffled as usual. You had heard his voice clearly once. Since then, you had thought he sounded a little funny, so muffled. 

“You haven’t seen anything yet, babe.” You weren’t quite used to your non-automated voice, but there was no safe way to install an automater without making your new mask too chunky, “This is way better than any bar on a Fleet port.” 

“And to think I had almost forgotten you were a Fleet cop.” 

“I’m a better dancer than I ever was a cop.” 

“Must’ve been one incredibly bad cop.” 

That made you laugh. Your raw, chirpy laughter, unfiltered and whole. Laughing made your chest ache, a pang of anxiety. A reminder that you weren’t wearing your usual mask. It could never quite alter your laughter right, creating instead some strange noise distortion. You had gotten so accustomed to the sound that you genuinely forgot what your raw laughter was like. You glanced at Mondes through the side of your eye and found yourself yearning for the safety he must feel right now behind his gasmask.Your current mask may be pretty but it could be so easily ripped off. Part of you envied his confidence in wearing the same thing he always wore, in his refusal to take it off. You shake off that thought quickly. 

“You want a drink? Rosé? I can get one of those long straws.” Messiahs above you wanted a drink. Something to shake off your anxieties. Something to lower your pusher rate. Your kismesis is silent in response, but he begins to dig through the little clutch purse he was carrying for you. 

You reach across to gently take his hand, “Oh- hon, no. We’re not paying for shit tonight.” You recognized the glimmer of confusion that flashed over his eyes, and responded with your own small laugh, “Watch and learn, bunny boy.” 

You rose, and made a beeline for the bar. You could feel Mondes’ eyes observing you closely. Time to put on a good show. The anxiety was washed away in a swell of confidence, no matter how fake. You square your shoulders, lift your chin, and walk like you owned the entire ball. 

You studied each lonely troll sitting at the bar, finding the perfect victim as you sauntered up. Only a brooding, mystery-shrouded purple blood sat alone, making a prime target. Everyone else was accounted for. No problem. His mask was wolfish, black and purple, blending in perfectly with the fur on his coat. No horns in sight- though a purple of that size must’ve had them cropped down. He sat alone, glowering down at his untouched glass of whiskey. You can’t help but wonder what that poor drink did to deserve such a glower. 

You loved the danger that was associated with purplebloods. You had your fair share of them in the Fleet- power hungry and sadistic fuckers. It was almost pitiful how many of them got off on the thought of a mutant to tame. They made easy targets. Motivated by their own simplistic desires, yet powerful enough for you to hide in their shadows. This was arguably a ball celebrating this stranger’s kind, and yet he hardly looked the part. Sure, he was well dressed, but it almost seemed as if he fit the previous year’s theme more. The cape over his wide-set shoulders made him appear massive. Massive, alone, brooding, dangerous, with a faint air of loneliness. Just how you liked them. He would be just as easy as the rest. 

You came up from behind, initially setting a hand on his back, in the fur of his cloak. His head jolts up suddenly as if forcibly yanked from his thoughts. There’s a brief moment where you wonder if your lack of mask had you firing off electricity, but upon further thought you conclude you just startled him. Cute. Your hand trails off his back as you take the seat next to him. You lean over the bar. Chin on hand, elbow on the surface. 

“Howdy, stranger. Looking awfully lonely over here.” The initial prick of anxiety sparks back up as you hear your own unfiltered voice once again. That was fine, you could watch your tone. The way he silently stared back certainly was not helping. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he gave the smallest nod imaginable. 

Cool! Great, you knew he wasn’t going to kill you now. At least not here. He shifts, leaning back on the bar, but turning his body more towards you. The way his elbow rested on the bar gave off a nonchalant air despite his posture remaining slightly stiff. He said nothing. His open body posture was a good sign. He was receptive, open to your eventual manipulation. 

“What’s a handsome highblood like you doing here alone? Hm?” You attempted to bat your eyelashes, then remembered he couldn’t see your eyes. 

“.....”

You tilt your head, the gems on your mask jingling as you did, “Silent strong type, hm? I like. Very mysterious.” You smile with your eyes, then remind yourself yet again that he can’t see your eyes- so you force a small giggle. Fuck your laughter was so small and pathetic on its own. Your free hand reaches out, crossing the great divide between you and your handsome stranger, to play with the chains hanging off his chest. He leaned in a little closer. Drawn in. “You’re in luck, stranger.” 

You begin to lean in closer, voice growing ever softer as you do, “...because I’m pretty vocal. And I’d love to show you just how vocal…” You stop, a few inches from his mask. Your eyes search the black abyss of his mask’s eyes, looking for any sort of emotion. You’re certain he’s doing the same for yours. 

“....But…I told my friend I’d bring us back a couple drinks before I wandered off with handsome strangers.” You again have to remind yourself that he can’t see your eyes. Babydoll eyes wouldn’t work here. But your pleading tone must’ve. Without breaking the pretend eye contact, your mystery friend raises a hand to beckon the bartender over. He motioned towards you as the unamused bronzeblood approached. 

You turn your head, but don’t back away, insistent on staying as close as possible while you order a Rosé and champagne. You twist the chain in your fingers. A pleased purr rises from your chest as you watch the bartender get to work. You could feel your stranger’s gaze boring into you. Was he wearing some sort of cologne? It was vaguely familiar, nostalgic almost. A scent like that, he must be Fleet. It was smokey, a little woods-y. Perhaps cedar? You so loved the smell of cologne- it was unfortunate your usual mask had an air filter. 

You meet his gaze once more as the bartender has to leave briefly to fetch your champagne. You release the chain. Your hand rests on his chest. It was warm, almost concerningly so- was he even breathing? An undead purple. Now that was an exciting thought. No, as you trace the pattern on his vest with a coy finger, you can feel his pusher racing underneath. A shy purple, then? Even more enticing. You maintain your gaze on his mask as the bartender delivers both drinks. 

“I hate to cut our time short…but my friend is waiting.” 

If you didn’t know better, you would’ve said your stranger deflated at the thought. 

“I’ll be on the dance floor all day, if you find yourself wanting company again.” You trace a small circle on his chest, “I’d love to pay you back with a dance.” 

With that you push away, taking both your drinks with a silent nod of thanks to the bartender. You made your way back to your kismesis. Mondes was no longer staring at you- no, he seemed to be staring through you. And quite intently. Like a dog on alert. 

“He’s staring.” He says flatly as you approach. You shrug nonchalantly and offer him his drink. Despite the nonchalance, you could tell your kismesis was uncomfortable. You were an expert in reading him. 

“C’mon,” you nudge his foot to make him stand, “let’s go up to the balcony. He can’t see us up there.” Truth be told, you could feel those masked eyes staring right into your soul. It would normally have been unnerving, but for some reason, it felt…almost familiar. A wanted attention, you suppose. Though your story here is only half the tale, Jodiah. Your thoughts and emotions hardly matter here. You are but a means to the end of this tale. 

Mondes rose slowly, but kept eye contact with your stranger until you put your arm around him. You usher him along towards the grand staircase.

“He’s just jealous a grandma like you could pull someone as hot as me.” 

---

==> Your name is now Paenit Almiss, and the second Jodiah leaves, you are overcome with the feeling that you have made a colossal mistake.

[intcritus]

❛ why is everyone in this kingdom so gods damned stupid? ❜ hua cheng to muyang !

The morning had started off strong. Mùyáng had been rudely yanked out of slumber by a distress call from one of the shrine maidens who’d had a run in with one of the Elder Dragons. So to say that not being able to sleep in was a problem, especially considering what time Hua Cheng had finally had his fill. A wave of his hand and he’s back in his realm, horns on display, wings twitching in agitation and scales rippling over his arms as he tries his best to reign in his temper. But what does he step into ? One of those fucking Elders, yelling at his people !

��� ━ How could you be so stupid ?! He should be here by now ! Not trouncing around with some nameless servant ! ❞ 

Shira, his beloved head maiden, stared up at Haojie, the second Elder, with defiance and fear, ❝ ━ Lord Mùyáng said he’d be back, you just have to wait!❞

❝ ━ I do not wait for some exiled broo– ❞ 

❝ ━His standing is higher than yours will ever be, watch what you say ! We won’t stand for it !❞ Shira interrupted in fury, her slap crisp in the silence that followed. ❝ ━ He is your King ! You may call him Prince in name only, only because you three cling to old ideals ! ❞ 

Mùyáng is proud of the nestling, she’s always been scared to speak up, but her loyalty to him is only second to Hua Cheng’s. And yet unlike Hua Cheng, it’s a reason, the dragon heir deals with these old fuckers. Because in the silence after the slap, he can feel the air charge with tension, can see the power contorting the space as Haojie looms over Shira, mouth opening with the rage of his flames but Mùyáng was faster. 

A vengeful roar echoes from his throat, a warning that stuns those who hear it, dropping them to their knees and Haojie is left staring up at the dragon heir, choking on sputtering flames as a clawed hand closes around his throat, tightening.

His ears ring, old knees throbbing from his descent. But that pales in comparison to the death in Prince Mùyáng’s gaze. The human-like countenance is gone, the power of the dragon that lives under his skin is there now, scales curling over the apple of his cheeks, making them sharper, sharp teeth on display as he hisses in the older male’s features, wings spread out, no doubt shielding those who follow him outside the palace. 

❝ ━ You understand violence,❞ The words are a rumble, like thunder before a full-fledged storm and it draws Haojie’s gaze around him, aware of the crowd that was forming and in his peripheral, he can see the other elders, can see how they cower, ❝ ━ I have given you grace. I have stayed away, not to support your decisions, but because you have no one left to rule. My people are out here, outside the walls, free. And yet you come here, and dare think to harm one of mine ? ❞ And perhaps, they’ve forgotten what that means to a dragon, to destroy a part of their horde is to tempt death. ❝ ━ No more. No more grace from me. Your seats are dissolved, and any of your dissidents within the other kingdoms will learn that my mother’s gentleness will grant you no mercy. ❞

There’s an exclamation of disagreement but  Mùyáng cares not as he crushes Haojie’s neck, ripping his head from his shoulders, tossing it at Yu-Rang and Li-Chen’s feet, meeting their gaze. The authority there made both of them kneel, but there was no satisfaction in the dragon heir’s furious gaze. ❝ ━His death shall not be honored. Let him rot by the river, where even the kobolds won’t grant it piece. ❞ A disgrace, to not bury a dragon’s body in fire or earth, no, Haojie was no longer a dragon even in the afterlife, he was a treasonous fool who forgot his place. 

Shira who’d been watching from behind her master’s wings, startled at another, familiar presence. She couldn’t recall his name but as he strolled forward, confident and sure steps, she figured that he was one of the few not frozen in fear by Lord Mùyáng’s rage. It was a palpable entity. Regardless, she merely smiles, gesturing to the crowd to disperse since the show was over. But they gave the former Elder’s body a wide breadth, because the next second it was lit up by white flames, spewed from their Master’s maw. Oh, he was angry. Yup, they would prepare the baths and breakfast. 

Smoke curled from his nostrils, his chest heaving with heavy breaths as the soft jingle of familiar footfalls reached his oversensitive hearing. Hua Cheng. His question almost makes the dragon smile. Almost because Mùyáng cannot speak with the need to roar to the skies.

So he says nothing, not immediately, instead he gestures with a tilt of his head toward the gates. He’s yet to shift to something more human-like but it speaks of his rage. He’s more scales than skin now. ❝ ━ I’ve been slumbering for near two centuries, ❞ He eventually utters, the second they’re within palace walls, clawed hands flexing, more smoke curling from his nose, ❝ ━ In my absence, things have fallen to a bit of ruin. Admittedly, I’ve got some things to rectify. Seems I’ve let it fester for two longs since I’ve awakened. Not anymore though. Time to clear off the roster and do my duty….❞

Heat and lightning thrums through his veins, his scales glimmering with the power beneath them. Fingers on his cheeks draws his slitted gaze toward his lover, narrowing at him before letting his shoulders slump, ❝ ━ Wanna help me burn a few people to the ground ? All before breakfast ? ❞

And maybe, that’ll burn off the extra rage that’s yet to dissipate. ❝ ━ Maybe a kingdom or two when I finished filtering who deserves my ire ? An extra bonus just for fun, hm ? ❞ Gods, why couldn’t he just enjoy his day. If he'd been able to wake up, bathe, maybe have an extra orgasm or two, then deal with people ? Yeah, he wouldn’t be so bloodthirsty. But for now, if Hua Cheng wanted to help him cause a bit of murder and chaos to right a few wrongs, well, to hell with it. / @avaere

[protokirby]

Late night early morning messy alternate universe doodles. And by messy I mean what the heck are these lines sometimes

I usually don't draw on paper but it was easier to do that than to draw with a mouse on an uneven surface at the time. Sometimes I'm tired of fighting with the computer mouse ya know?

I was trying to sketch potential designs for a thing in a specific au here. I think it turned out super cool

It didn't end up being changed that much between different drawings so I think I got something here

The writing says "sleeves stretche with wing (not ripping somehow)

Yes I'm keeping my spelling error noted lol it's funny

Writing pointing to wings coming from under his cape: "sticks up from behind cape"

Writing pointing to his legs: "wings on backs of legs too"

Writing above the top most doodle showing legs: "wings on back of legs normally"

Lower doodle: "in flight" and "I don't know how to draw side view of this :("

Referring to the wings sticking up from the back: "from under cape. Not from arms"

Side note I kept miscalculating how long his shirt is so there's an extra unneeded line

Why did I write so many notes? Anyhoo

"Top horns go forward like tiger from monster rancher"

"Bone-like plates(?) on ears same as on horns and face and arms" or I'm 90% sure that says arms. That staff's on his arms so-

"Note: his teeth look normal most of the time but there are retractable points (like a night fury with extra steps)" lol a night fury with extra steps

This one was just my failure at trying to figure out bat wing physics

Here's a better one

"Breaking news! Local guy recently freed from curse can't get comfy because of lingering monster features. *annoyed*"

So yeah I had to say to myself 'just think of it like arm physics' and stuff like that. I don't remember what most fingers are called but the pinky finger and the one next to it are part of his wings so part of his wings move along with those two fingers

But oh yeah with the thought still fresh on the mind: 'just think of it like arm physics', I forgot arm physics in this one

"In flight (after a long time of not trying out his wings for fear of folks expecting him to use them if he could, something finally provokes him enough to take off.) So yeah it turns out the wings left by the curse actually still function"

Silly doodle

Au Hop: "Lately I've been into using random words as insults. It's funnier than using actual insults when done right."

Reaper(also an au Hop from a different au): "Woag"

Reaper has 2 Leons. The one with the caption "taking notes" above him is named Dandelost and isn't actually related to Reaper. Dandelost doesn't get along with his own Hop and well, Reaper is one of the few people who even can get along with Dandelost but ... Reaper, friendly little guy that he is, can easily get along with most people. Dandelost is planning on getting better at being a jerk to people here.

The other Leon standing next to Reaper (judging Dandelost for taking notes) is the one actually related to Reaper. He's a gargoyle who can turn into a human and he dresses all professional when he's a human.

The Leon next to the other au Hop doesn't quite approve of his own Hop attempting to be a bad influence on the small innocent chaotic floating Hop

Here's another silly doodle

Hop: "why is this daisy taking up my personal space!?"

Lacey: "tail....."

Drayton: "pfft" (worried about what Lacey would do to him if he laughed too hard so he's trying to keep it quiet)

Oh and theres another spelling error, but the writing pointing to Lacey says "has "fluffy withdrawel syndrome" since the aliens abducted the pokemon 26 years ago"

In the au the bat-dragon Drayton and the fluffy alien Hop and Leon are from, some kind of ripple effect(?) happened when the pokemon were abducted by some aliens that caused time (and aging) to pause. don't question it

[bora-in-tamriel]

(Elden Ring) ELEINA (pictured: inhabiting her vessel, taking her form upon it) BECAUSE I NEED TO TALK ABOUT HER and Morgott both of them kees kees their little story

I’m still lacking some confidence when it comes to nitty bitty itty bitty details in lore, it might not be a smooth read forgive me :”D also how does one woman, i forgot how to draw soft looking women so her face may change in the future orz

after writing note: long thing below, I wanted to write even more but might just split it? and make another thing of art for it, I like having visuals of things and I want the location n all to have visuals eventually

Lady Eleina, as she is referred to by her vessel, Lancer, is a maiden born from a sapling sprouted by the Erdtree long ago. The sapling rested beneath the golden Leyndell Capital, in a small hidden chamber webbed by long thin roots of the Erdtree.  In her “slumbering” stage, her body hovered (think of Rennala floating pose) within the branches of the sapling, surrounded by what seemed like a bubble of golden light. Her skin and hair glowing, with a silky white cloth dressing her form. She rested there for hundreds, if not thousands of moons. Specific duration is unknown.

The one who actually found her was young Morgott in his attempt to flee the sewers beneath the capital. Free from his shackles, he found himself chased into a corner. In a desperate attempt to push through the walls that confined him, he passed through one, ending up on a narrow passage. Through there, he found the chamber where the sapling and the golden woman rested. It was another dead end, but the guards had not noticed his location just yet. Morgott sought a place to hide, to leave, perhaps another wall, but the beckoning golden light of the yellow sapling and its orb pulled him to the center of the chamber.  Peering through the wall of the orb, he saw the silhouette of a person. Pushing past the blinding light, he caught a glimpse of long golden hair, before the orb that covered the branches suddenly expanded in a sound alike to glass shattering, engulfing the sapling’s trunk and touching the floor. The density of the orb lessened, now easier to see through.  The disturbance briefly awakened the woman, making her stir in her place. Her eyes light golden, peering curiously at her surroundings through her long lashes. It was too soon for her to awaken; it wasn’t her time. An unfamiliar figure caught her eye, standing at the side of the sapling, gazing at her form with wonder. 

Young Morgott, expression full of shock, confusion and a hint of curiosity, shrunk away as the golden eyes found him. But the gaze that met him made him lean back in. The woman gazed softly, with quiet curiosity. She was intrigued, albeit a bit confused, but showed no signs of repulsion, disgust, horror, anger,... She smiled. So gently.  The young Omen didn’t know what to do. She slowly uncrossed her fingers, reaching a gently glowing hand out to the omen boy. He hesitated, slightly shrinking away from her approaching hand. Halting beside his cheek, she watched him with a flinch of confusion in her brow. But she waited patiently to see if he’d allow her touch. 

She looked over his messy white hair, his frightened golden eyes, one of which was more closed than the other. His winding horns sticking out the right side of his head, the ragged cloth he was wearing over his lanky form. For a young man, he was very thin. There was a feeling within her, she wasn’t quite sure what it meant. Like a dull twist in her gut. 

After a moment, the Omen boy decided against his fears, leaning into her hand. She smiled once more as her fingers gently traced his skin. It was curious, the boy. She wasn’t quite sure what he was. Concept of people, living beings, had been ripped in the rude awakening. She had no memory of anything, only curiosity. 

She was so gentle, careful, as if she’d hurt him if she moved too quickly or touched too roughly. The warmth of her palm made him melt, expression crumbling as he leaned his cheek into her hand with a hint of desperation. It was foreign; the kind, gentle, gesture; he wished it to never end. 

Yet end it did all too soon for him. 

A pain struck his side, visions of golden light flashing around the small chamber as guards restrained him. With their shackles, their chains, they took the young Omen royalty back to his chamber, deep within the sewers of Leyndell. 

The woman in gold didn’t know better of what had happened. She seemed to have not registered he was taken by force. She only gazed into her vacant palm, before returning to her slumber, beckoned by the golden sapling. Few guards remained in her chamber, staring in confusion of this discovery. Who was she?

[dance-till-the-death]

"Sleep sleep my little rabbit, don't wake up until the wolves are gone"

@ellovett finally finished it.... :') open ibis paint and look up tutors just becuase to draw this bitch as a hannya and decided to change my mind because jot sastified with the digital one. Im also open to any criticize art and tips yup im begginer.

Yokai AU belongs to @deiformlover

𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗬𝗔 𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

Hannya is a yōkai of the Oni family; a family of demons that look like ogres and which are honored at Setsubun, a well-known festival in Tokyo. Hannya embodies jealousy and anger, found in crimes of passion - emotions that are entirely human.

A long time ago, Hannya used to be an ordinary woman. She had beautiful eyes and a velvet skin tone. In addition, her name signifies wisdom in Sanskrit, a symbol of a pure soul. Deeply wounded by the man she loved, she seized an unparalleled rage. Slowly eroded by jealousy and on the edge of madness, she loses her spirit in the darkness and transforms into a demon

TW : IMPLIED GORE

Ai in this au is more ten times crueler, more cold heart and emotionless barely had mercy towards her victims/dealers. Shes either known as a mysterious figure and appears with a skull oni 'mask' that stuck on her face that roaming around the NRC. Many students will ask her for to granting their wishes she will grant their wishes in the return either these two trade with her :

1. Bring her a purely fresh blood of a beautiful woman.

2. Bring her a red spider lily flowers or roses.

Most of them always brings her bonquet of roses. They tent to forgot their payment towards her if it more then 30 days they didnt pay her, she will either punish them either rip off their legs or arms. Most time, they will find her guarding around the Ramshackle dorm or the near NRC lake in the forest singing a lullaby. She will not be around NRC sometimes because her victims are mostly consider outsiders.

TRIVIA :

This is actually her kimono design (this is quite a reference lol)

If she smells like a really strong scent of perfume, its a sign shes in bad mood and can cause a accident headche or poison killing thru the scent.

Shes on a Hannya Chunari level : this second type masters a more powerful black magic than the first one. Her face looks similar to that of a demon with longer horns and sharp teeth. At this stage, it is still possible to rescue her with the help of Buddhist prayers.

Ai roaming around the NRC (especially the ramshackle dorm) because she missed her human lives before she turn into a hannya and her nostalogic memorises.

Rumors said that she had a child keep in the forest from one of her victim.

HOW SHE MET MC

It was midnight and MC was about to go to sleep after all the works they had done. Until while going upstairs towards their bedroom, they sensed someone is watching them they look towards the window saw a unknown figure with a black but then disappeared with then a sec. 'What was that...' 'I sworn I just something' but soon they quickly brush it off thinking it was just their imagination as they continue going upstairs. Pulling the blanket over their body and slowly closing their eyes and drift away with their sleep the night continue as 'normal' until the sound of the door crack open causing them to woke up from their sleep the figure then standing outside of the dorm with an umbrella the singing of the lullaby makes them falls into a trap luring them by bringing them to the forest. Before she could touch them, Kei manage to came to save MC on time teleport them back to Ramshackle

"My, my, my. Looks like the little 'bodyguard' has save the day"

Her sarcastic words as she gritted her teeth while 'glaring' at Kei. Kei draws his fans towards her "Dont you dare lay your filthy hand on them you disgrace demon."

"Oh really..." she said as she slowly draw out their weapon to attack her but a sudden cries came from deeper inside the forest turn her head gaze from him. In a sec, her figure was already disappear.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Dsmp disability/neurodivergence hcs pog

(Obviously all to do with the characters, not the content creators!)

To start with, the characters with disabled/neurodivergent actors have the same disabilities/neurodivergences- George is colourblind, Tubbo is dyslexic, Wilbur is probably autistic, Dream, Techno, Eret, and Karl have ADHD, ect (in case I forgot anyone lol.)

Callahan is entirely mute due to unknown causes. While all of the original eight and a couple more people on the server know sign language, he primarily communicates with writing in the server's group chat.

Ponk is missing three of her limbs- both of her legs entirely and her arm up to the elbow. He has redstone and gold prosthetics in similar colours to his mask.

Fundy's developed some pretty bad anxiety ever since the Final Control Room.

JSchlatt suffered severe substance abuse issues, along with atrophying muscles.

Eret's cloudy white eyes, while mostly stemming from their descendance from ghosts, does leave them with very light sensitive and slightly blurry eyes. That’s another reason he wears sunglasses, apart from hiding his eyes, to reduce the pain of sunlight.

Jack Manifold lost his tail during his second canon death making it very hard for him to balance (I draw him as a wolf hybrid btw before you wonder). After coming back as a hellhound his firey tails do a bit to help but he’s also left with constant minor chronic pain, along with feeling constantly freezing cold despite feeling fever-warm to the touch.

Along with the obvious amnesia, dying in the explosion in El Rapids left Karl partially deaf, which he talks even louder than before to try and compensate.

HBomb has addiction issues with alcohol.

Ever since his revival with the totem, Technoblade's had frequent headaches and hypersensitivity to touches to his head.

Along with his severe allergies to water and amnesia, Ranboo is autistic (mostly because I like him and I WILL self project onto all my faves bby).

Those behind the cut- an extra warning for fairly graphic descriptions of torture, abuse, injury, and death!

Due to Quackity’s torture, Dream is missing an arm above the elbow. He’s also had most of his claws/teeth removed or damaged, making it very hard for him to move or eat. He’s partially blind, due to having an eye ripped out, and is partially deaf due to having an ear torn off in addition to many, many blows to the head.

Tommy's autistic and ADHD (shut up let me project on this character). He’s also got PTSD and depression. His first death in the Final Control Room permanently crippled his leg, requiring him to wear a leg brace, and his second death having an arrow through his skull left him with frequent migraines. The Glasgow Grin I always draw him with after Exile makes it hard for him to eat or speak, and he very frequently pops off the stitches- he carries a needle and thread with him at all times to help with this. It’s also part of the reason he’s so fond of gapples- their healing properties numb the pain when they touch his mouth. After his revival, he’s hyper mobile- with his limbs that were broken in his death bending at weird angles- and has severe chronic pain due to his injuries never healing (meaning he’s got really bad bruises and cuts over all his body). His wings are atrophied and have been from “birth”, being malformed under the heavy feathers and not even enough to glide with.

Tubbo's got burn scars primarily covering his arms and half his face- he raised his arms to block the first firework but the blast almost completely destroyed his arms and the second blast hit the side of his face directly- but cover basically his entire body. They never healed over properly and get damaged or infected very easily. One of his eyes was so badly damaged in the blast it’s completely blind and clouded over. One of his horns was also destroyed to the base, and its incredibly painful when touched. Tubbo's also developed some issues with substance abuse- mostly alcoholism, though at a MUCH lighter level than Schlatt. He’s also obviously got PTSD and anxiety, ect.

Wilbur Soot always struggled with depression and paranoid tendencies, which worsened as the series went on along with the trauma from the Final Control Room. His wings were damaged by his second canon death, leaving one of them so badly damaged he can no longer glide with them. He developed substance abuse issues, mostly with smoking but also vaping and alcohol. One of his arms was destroyed by the blast of L'Manburg, and this carried over to Ghostbur (with Revivebur, its where his arm bleeds and where I draw his mechanical arm). Ghostbur had severe amnesia, in addition.

Quackity is partially blind in one of his eyes, where Techno drove a pickaxe through. It’s clouded over but he can see out of it a bit. The side of his mouth on the same side is paralysed in its position too, due to again having a pickaxe brutally shoved through it. He also has some substance abuse issues- he did found the cartel, after all!

Philza is autistic (am I making the whole sbi family autistic because I’m autistic and I like them? Yes and you can’t stop me). Obviously the explosion damaged his wings- absolutely tottering them, making them unable to fly or even glide along with making every touch to them very painful, though he still refuses to get them amputated even if it’d probably be the wiser decision- it also damaged the side of his face and his destroyed his eye closest to the blast, revealing that under his skin is just a void of stars.

[helpicant-stop]

Captain Puffy's Hair Tutorial

[ or : what actually happened when Hannah was with the Egg ]

please reblog!! it brings more attention to the piece and likes don't really do anything so it'd be super helpful if you did [[:

image id and funky drawing info [ + bonus sketches ] below the cut :

Image I.D. :

{the first panel is of captain puffy in a white void, smiling. her hair is immensely curly and large and literally looks like you could hide a whole person in it. she says, "hi guys! so lately, a lotta people have been asking," with a connecting speech bubble below adding, "'omg, puffy, how the [censor bar] does all your hair fit into that bun???'"

in the second panel, she says, "well, today i'm gonna show you exactly how!"

the third panel shows hannahxxrose, red sucked out of her normally very pink outfit, siting in the dark with a Gapple™ laptop open in front of her. she says, "oh pog! seems easy enough, guess i could try it."

the fourth panel cuts back to the video. puffy holds up a blue-grey bandana and says, "so first, i take a cloth-"

then the fifth panel cuts back to hannah, who's holding a cold green bandana in her hands while the video plays. the first speech bubble starts with, "and then you just . . ." with the other two speech bubbles being scribbles. the fourth one is much smaller than the others and says, ". . . hannah, if you're listening, which i [censor bar] know you are, sam's on his way please hold on i swear to god-"

the sixth panel simply shows puffy with her hands splayed, simply exclaiming, "TA-DA!!" with a pleased expression. all of her ridiculously voluminous hair has been somehow tucked into a tiny bun atop her head, decorated with the bandana wrapped over her head.

the seventh panel shows an extreme close-up of hannah's confused and disgruntled face, with a small speech bubble to her right simply saying, "what the fuck".

finally, the last panel zooms out to show that yes, she's still in a black concrete box beside the egg, and someone offscreen - presumably bad or ant - remarks, "HOW does she keep getting access to these computers???"}

End I.D.

captain puffy has one goat eye, and one human eye with goat pupils.

they also change colour depending on emotion : red is angry, orange is scared, yellow is happy, green is disgust, blue is sadness and purple is surprise, as seen in the sketch i made below [ yeah the colours are wrong because there's no option for yellow text jehekwb ] :

also, complicated emotions have multiple colours swirling together so that looks kinda cool [ i forgot to make a drawing for this lmao rip ]

her right horn was cut off after she became anti-egg since it was kind of overgrowing from lack of proper maintaining [ don't look up overgrown horns if you're sensitive to body horror ish images please ] , and her left horn was severed near the base after she presumably fell off her ship after the storm that took her to smp lands

speaking of which!! i have a headcanon that lightning struck her during the storm at some point and turned her hair white [ which is completely nonsensical but shut up], and she decided to dye the right side of her hair brown [ only the roots for some reason ] out of impulse once she got her pirate outfit back.

puffy has a detatchable hook hand and eyepatch! she found them in the ship with her pirate outfit and likes to put them on when she's in full dress to complete the vibe. and the hook actually does help with pulling up eggheads by the collar to scream "FUCK THE EGG" at them! /hj [ also i drew this particular sketch before the captain's tale episode so her outfit and hair are different and the drawing quality is significantly worse don't @ me ]

hannah keeps finding ways to access the internet and bad and ant have no idea how

hc where a legitimate laptop brand in the dsmp universe is Gapple. [ the competitor is obviously still samsung just to make the "phil fucked a samsung smart fridge" thing canon ]

follow - up headcanon : streams are like some kind of religious activity in the dsmp universe and everyone still does it despite everything else going on. everyone's actively encouraged to watch each other's streams; the difference from real life streams, though, is that they're all in character no matter the content.

[ c!tommy has probably released a " prison visit vlog - finally getting closure! " stream, in which there was like a 30-minute long segment where he argued about not being able to vlog the visit itself to sam, and ended up grumpily raiding sam nook's " 10 hour hotel grind " where he stood, unmoving, for hours on end with the exception of random instances of the typical dialogue lines to random passersby ]

[taylorlynn-art]

⭐️ Underneath It All ⭐️

by Strawberry Moon Rose

🍓🌙🌹

This is a one-shot I conjured poking fun at how based on appearance, Sailor Moon characters can really confuse a person. Taking place in the anime world, but with the Starlights cross-dressing like in the manga instead of using a physical disguise.

Also, it got me thinking, what if the Sailor Starlights came to Earth at the end of SuperS? It had to have taken a while to establish their idol group before debuting.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon or any of the characters. They belong to Naoko Takeuchi.

🍸

Soft jazz music drifts lazily around the bar. The flashy neon light of orange and green illuminates the Amazon Trio as they sip from their drinks in hand. Ice cubes slosh and clink as Tigers-Eye slams his glass down on the table in frustration.

"Man, we got scolded again," he complains. "And we're doing our best too..."

"She doesn't have to yell at us like that," Hawks-Eye agrees. "If catching Pegasus were that easy, we would have found him by now!"

Fish-Eye tips his head back daintily, sipping from his cocktail glass. "There are just so many targets, how are we supposed to know which one he's hiding in? It's like finding a needle in a haystack."

Hawks-Eye brushes through the photographs scattered across the bar top. "Hmm... None of these women are really catching my eye." He plucks a snapshot of a girl with braids and waves it in Tigers-Eye's face, knowing he has a thing for younger chicks. "What about this one? You interested?" he inquires.

Tigers-Eye yawns. "Too plain."

"How 'bout this?" Hawks-Eye tries again. If Tigers-Eye doesn't do something, he'll have to do something, and he isn't in the mood for another failure and reprimanding from the old hag, Zirconia.

"Too old."

"And this one?"

Tigers-Eye makes a face and waves his hand dismissively. "Ugh, not another guy. See if Fish-Eye wants him," he says.

"What? Where? Lemme see!" Fish-Eye slides off his stool and squeezes between his cronies. Hearts form in his blue eyes when he catches a glimpse of the target. "Oh my gosh! You're kidding!" He snatches the photograph out of Hawks-Eye's hand so fast it's nothing but a blur.

"What're you getting so excited about? He's not nearly as handsome as I am," Tigers-Eye says, unable to conceal the tinge of jealousy in his voice.

"He's right," Hawks-Eye boasts. "We're much more good-looking."

"You two don't know who this is?" Fish-Eye asks incredulously.

Tigers-Eye and Hawks-Eye stare at their friend.

"It's Seiya Kou from the Three Lights!" Fisheye kisses the picture and twirls around. "I'm so lucky!"

"Never heard of him," Hawks-Eye comments in a voice as flat as cardboard.

"Me neither." Tigers-Eye tosses his orange hair. "He must not be that popular."

But Fish-Eye isn't listening to them. "Oh my, I wonder what kind of girls he likes? How should I approach him?

Tigers-Eye and Hawks-Eye swivel around in their seats and reach for their drinks. By now they know it's useless trying to talk to him when he goes gaga over a target.

"Cross-dressing again?" Hawks-Eye sounds bored.

"Why, of course!" Fisheye gazes dreamily at the glossy portrait. The celeb is clad in a red suit and yellow tie. A bright rose is stuffed in the breast pocket. Ebony bangs fall messily above spunky blue eyes, accompanied by a microphone and crooked smile.

Fish-Eye giggles. Seiya Kou... Even your name is beautiful! I'll seduce you for sure!

🎸

"Thank you! Goodnight everybody!" The lead singer gives a final wave into the sea of faces. The crowd erupts into applause as the Three Lights exit the stage. It's a warm Saturday night and they just wrapped up their second concert at the venue.

"Great job tonight, guys. They absolutely loved you." Their manager gives each member a pat on the back.

"Thank you, sir," Taiki replies politely. "We did our best."

Seiya accepts a towel from a stage worker and dabs the sweat off her forehead. She cranes her head up to the night sky, breathing heavily. Princess... Where are you now? Can you hear our message? They have only been on Earth for two months, but she and the others are already used to cross-dressing as a boy band.

"Seiya, we are heading back to change," Taiki calls over her shoulder.

"You coming or what?" Yaten taps her foot impatiently.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Seiya shakes her head and follows them down the corridor to their dressing rooms. The high from performing hasn't worn off yet, and she hums the whole way, a bounce in her step.

Once she reaches her assigned room, Seiya shuts the door and starts collecting her things. The open window allows a humid breeze to drift in, carrying the sweet fragrance of a beautiful spring night - cherry blossoms and rain. She can still hear the murmurs of the crowd in the distance.

Knock. Knock.

"Come in!" the Starlight calls absentmindedly, figuring it's Taiki or Yaten.

Creak... The door creeps open. When Seiya glances up, she catches her breath.

Standing against the door frame appears to be one of the most gorgeous women Seiya's ever seen before. The beauty's pale-blue hair is tied in a high ponytail that cascades in lustrous waves to her hips. She wears a flowing white dress and strappy sandals.

It's like she forgot how to speak. "Can I help you?" Seiya clears her throat and quickly fluffs her hair.

Fish-Eye smiles and brushes a stray curl out of his face. "Actually, you can," he says in a high, silky voice.

"Oh? How so?" Whenever a cute girl is in sight, she can't help it - she's always been a flirt.

Fish-Eye giggles and casually eases the door shut behind him. "I really enjoyed the concert, Seiya. You shine like a true star out there. I was wondering if I could get a souvenir of some sort to make the experience all the more memorable..."

"I'm flattered," Seiya replies smoothly. She closes the distance between them in a few swift steps, drinking in Fish-Eye's sparkly perfume. "What do you have in mind?"

"An autograph would be wonderful." Fish-Eye bats his mascara-coated lashes. "But anything from a superstar like you would make me the happiest fan in the world."

A grin spreads across Seiya's face. They gaze at each other for a few seconds, holding a teasing conversation with their eyes. Seiya reaches for a blank notebook resting on the nearby table and pulls a marker out of her pocket. Gliding close to the pretty stranger, she says, "And to whom shall I make this autograph out to?"

"To 'Sakana'," Fish-Eye says breezily.

"Sakana, huh?" Seiya smiles quizzically at him. "That's a cute name you have."

"You think so?"

Squeak, squeak, goes the marker as Seiya scribbles out the autograph. She signs her name with a flourish, tears the paper out of the notebook, and hands it to Fish-Eye. "There you are," she declares.

"Oh, thank you so much! An autograph from my favorite male idol! I'll treasure it forever!"

Still smiling, Seiya puts her hands in her pockets. "Anything else I can help you with...?"

Fish-Eye carefully folds the autograph into his purse. "Oh, perhaps there is..." he purrs.

"Yeah?"

"But it's a bit of a secret..." Fish-Eye fingers Seiya's collar, pulling playfully on her tie.

"I'm intrigued," she whispers.

Fish-Eye stands on his tiptoes and whispers enticingly into Seiya's ear, "I'd like to get to know you better..."

"Is that so?"

He outlines the buttons on Seiya's jacket. "These ties can be tricky, can't they? Let me assist you in taking it off..."

Seiya chuckles. "That sounds quite tempting, but you see, I have to go soon... The others are waiting for me," she answers honestly, regretfully.

"Oh, they can wait, can't they?" If Fish-Eye gets any closer, they'll be a grilled cheese sandwich.

"I'm sorry." Unwillingly, Seiya gently pushes him off her. "You're extremely attractive, Sakana, but... I can't. I wish I could, but I can't."

Fish-Eye draws back as if he'd been slapped across the face. He widens his eyes innocently. "Why not?"

'Because you'd find out I'm a woman and then our image would be ruined', Seiya wants to say, but responds, "I'm not who you think I am."

"What do you mean? I know who you are. You're just making an excuse, aren't you?"

"No, I-"

"Fine." Fish-Eye steps back. The corners of his mouth crumple into a scowl. "I see how it is. I guess it's goodbye to you then, isn't it?"

Before Seiya can respond, a blue curtain appears out of the air and drops over Fish-Eye with a whoosh. It raises to reveal his true self - bubbly blue outfit, scaly hands, and black Amazon marking on his forehead.

"Who are-?!" Seiya stumbles back.

"ONE!" A red board rises from under the floorboards, slamming into the Starlight's back.

"TWO!" Cold, metal clamps bind Seiya's wrists and ankles.

"THREE!"

Seiya screams as her dream mirror emerges, taking shape bit by bit. Harsh light blinds her, and wind whips her hair all over. It feels like someone is reaching into her chest and ripping out her insides. What's going on? What is this?!

Once it stops, she slumps forward in exhaustion, supported only by the painful cuffs pinning her to the plank.

"Now to take a look inside your beautiful dream mirror!" Fish-Eye saunters towards the trapped idol. He grabs hold of the glowing mirror on both sides. It's shining brighter than any one he's seen before! His eyes glimmer in hope. Could this be the home of Pegasus after all?

"Y-You lied to me! Who are you really?" Seiya shouts, raising her head. It's obvious by the flat chest and deep voice that this monster is male, and on top of that, the enemy! How could she fall into his trap? Anger and humiliation course through her veins. She thrashes harder, but cannot break free.

Fish-Eye chuckles, but doesn't reply. He stretches the mirror on both sides like putty and dives his head inside her dream mirror. Seiya shrieks in agony.

"Where is Pegasus?" he says aloud, looking all over. But instead of finding a winged horse with a golden horn, he sees flowing images of a beautiful, red-haired princess catered by three female guardians in black uniforms.

Fish-Eye throws his head out of the mirror in horror. "H-H-How dare you deceive me! That's my job!" he cries, his voice wavering. I fell for a woman in disguise? Impossible! This can't be right...

Skin crawling and cheeks burning, Fish-Eye stands back. How humiliating! "What a waste of a trip. Well, either way, I suppose you'll have to die now, Seiya. Come out, my Remless! Superstar Daistuaa!"

A creature climbs out of his shadow - a skinny girl with a guitar as a torso and a microphone as a tail. She snaps the cord like a whip and says in a mouse-like voice, "It's showtime!"

"I'm leaving this up to you, Daisutaa," Fish-Eye barks.

"Of course!”

A black hole rimmed with water appears in the air. Fish-Eye does a backwards somersault into it and vanishes.

The dream mirror returns to Seiya's body and the board and restraints disappear. She falls to her knees, feeling dizzy and weak.

"Hello, everybody!" Daisutaa sings. "I'm so happy to be here! I've got a super great show for you!"

Seiya glares up at the Remless. A phage? No, it's different... She reaches into her pocket for her transformation brooch.

"Uh-uh! Please turn off all cell phones and electronic devices during the show!" Daisutaa lunges at Seiya. They crash into the wooden table which breaks into jagged pieces beneath them. Seiya groans, her back throbbing, and tries to throw the Remless off her. Daisutaa's three-inch nails are like knives, poised at her throat.

"Get...off...me!" she grunts, turning her head to the side in a feeble attempt to avoid the monster slicing her jugular.

"You want an encore, you say?" Daisutaa crows. "Alrighty then!"

Bam! The dressing room door slams open, nearly flying off its hinges.

"Star Sensitive Inferno!"

"Star Gentle Uterus!"

The Remless snaps her head up, frozen like a deer in the headlights as the two combined attacks hit her head on. "What? Aghhh! STAGE OUT!" she wails, crumbling to glass. The shadow on the floor fades, and a billow of smoke dissipates in an upright spiral circle. The Dead Moon magic is gone.

"Seiya!" Maker cries, hurrying over to her.

"What happened? We heard you screaming." Healer kneels beside Seiya. "What was that thing? A phage?"

"So they have invaded here too?" Maker murmurs gravely.

Seiya coughs and shakes her head. Grunting, she pulls herself into a sitting position. "No, it was something else..."

Healer helps Seiya to her feet. "Well, either way, it's gone now. Let's hope we never see anything like it again."

"Yeah. Just forget it happened," Seiya mutters, flushing as she recalls Sakana.

She knew she wanted to.

✨

"Back so soon, Fish-Eye?" Tigers-Eye swings around in his chair at the bar.

Ignoring him, Fish-Eye plops down in his usual spot and pours himself a drink. In one sip, he downs the entire thing and reaches to refill the glass.

"Whoa, easy!" Hawks-Eye jokes. "Did it go that bad?"

Tigers-Eye's green eyes dance. "That Seiya dude rejected you, didn't he?" he says gaily.

"Can it, you two," Fish-Eye grumbles, studying his red nail polish. "You don't know the half of it."

"So what happened?" Hawks-Eye asks.

A bloom of red appears in Fish-Eye's cheeks. "Let's just say that underneath it all, Seiya Kou wasn't who I thought he was."

Tigers-Eye smirks. "I could have told you all those boy bands are bogus."

"Shut up, Tigers-Eye. Just shut up."

[captainkurosolaire]

Eclipse Fusion - Shuro

Placing Shuro’s palms together he began rubbing them chaotically with scheme intent, influxes of particle’s were sparking like man-made fire, he was birthing his own. He gleefully was over-abundantly doing something. Before seemingly making a giant snowball into his own creation. He’d lob it upwards letting it break forth like an egg. A pack of aetheric fenrir-like wolves came howling out  all functioning and magically pulsating with spiritual life. “Ta-da! And thus Shuro adopted his own puppies! They’re so adorable, not to mention. They enjoy company. Hey, you know what? You were so generous and let me play with your pet, I’ll extend the same.” Ushering a hound-master call, they began taking laps with conjunctive sprints around Shuro before formulating in sync. Each of them chipper, started sprinting and barking, growling, viciously all arranging diverse personality and traits from the five hound’s before the first one bit into Silv’a’s flesh. Each one followed through, before they exploded their prey. From being bitten to the rump, ankle, shoulder, arm and wrist they left grievous damage to the regenerative force that caused him such cruel agony. It all hurt so tremendously. “Ouch… My bad. I forgot to mention they do like to play pain-tag.” Shuro showed sympathetic care, masked with deceitful playfulness. Silv’a actually had to struggle recuperating from that impactful technique. Never imagining this damage could happen. Horn’s and more vile corruption rapidly replaced his natural organic blood for the diabolical absorption's. Transcending and wrapping him to be even more akin to a hellish irreversible fiend. Irritation furrowed the sorcerer’s brow and also mindless disbelief. “......” Before finally finding his outrageous cry and rashly sending a volley of laced energy all chaotically dangerous, sporadically going after everyone even the helpless pest below. All that mattered was these nuisances, perished to oblivion… immediately! He’d sprout six demonic arm’s to accelerate his numbered castings. Starting to show his own prime form from gobbling like a porker so many damned souls. Counter colliding he became a rotating spin inside the energy drawing forth an almost entrancing dance that was weaving through all the volatile point’s of the attack and vaporizing it with a cyclonic series of shift’s of his body, by imbuing the outline’s of his own soul-vessel with aether. “Aw now that was fun! Can we go again?” Pretending he was nauseous, “On second thought, I’ll pass.” Clutching his stomach and rubbing his tummy afterwards to calm it. Closing in the gap and sliding against Silv’a’s six arm casting to break through and deliver a gut-wrenching punch followed by a kick to his family jewels. His knees were trembling and buckling but that wasn’t enough, Shuro took the opportunity and shoved his fist down the demon’s mouth and grabbed his pink taster and ripped it out. Falling back with a deed done he’d follow through with a pun with literal backing, “Cat’s got your tongue? What’s the matter, can’t recite curses or incantations? Go ahead and try regenerating it, it won't work.” Each hit Shuro did whatever was happening was negating Silv’a’s abilities completely, unexplained making each damage actually for once stay in effect. Ever since resurrection he hadn’t met true pain again like a supposed lowly mortal, until now. Silv’a collapsed finally to his knees before the all-powerful Bonder's, emitting a tremendous influx of aether from the combination of the two rival’s now sworn. “Have some decency! Think about what people will say if you’re on your knees here in public.” Shuro faked a theatrical blush and fan panned air to himself, continuing the humiliation of this foe who did the same not too long ago to everyone else. Payback was always a cool bitch to know. Silv’a unleashed a salivating grit of teeth being purely mocked right before he could growl and recover, Shuro followed through with a mighty round kick that launched a series of teeth out the Emperor. Before dropping back, “Pick yourself up, would you.” Their tandem voice’s were nerve wracking. To a foe who believed himself every mean’s achieved, perfected stature, better, superior by all facets. He was being manhandled by something that every resonating verbiage sounded already victorious.                        (Previous) << (Voidal Relics) >> (Next)

[moonlit-imagines]

Next of Kin (Part 2)

Birds of Prey x Sionis-Zsasz!reader

warnings:

a/n: HDTVTVRBEHS IM SO SORRY I COMPLETELY ABANDONED THAT STORY OH MY GOD im gonna be honest with you guys. its not good. i forgot the original ending i wanted.

prompt:

prologue part 1

“Boss?” You heard a henchman wake you from your slumber in your own room. Opening your eyes to complete darkness, you tried not to lose your temper.

“What the hell do you want?” You asked with a huff.

“Right, uh, you told us to tell you when we had a location on those ‘Birds of Prey’ or whatever...we do.” You ripped your sleeping mask off of your eyes and bolted out from under the satin covers.

“You do?! Where? Tell me now!” You shouted while scrambling across the room to get yourself ready for this spur of the moment fight. The blue robe you wore dropped to the ground just before you pulled on a pair of pants and continued. You had to look good for this special occasion.

“A old factory, I guess. ACE or some shit.” He shrugged, looking away respectfully as you got your clothes on.

“ACE Chemicals?” You pulled the shoulder holster over your arms and covered it with a jacket, waiting for the oaf to confirm.

“Uh, I think so.” He was basically useless, an alarm clock at best. You swiped your weapons from your nightstand and pushed past him, ready to end a few lives. It was an eye for two eyes kind of situation.

“Should I call for backup?” He followed behind you as weapons were shoved into all sorts of pockets on your person, so you did what any reasonable person would do and shot him in the foot, the sweet sound of a yelp calmed your shaky nerves.

“Did I say we should call for backup? No, so don’t ask.” He dropped to the floor as he clutched onto his injured appendage, but you just kept on walking. This was personal, you were the only one who could avenge Dad and Papa Vic.

Now you were jogging to the car and stepping on the gas the moment you sat in the driver’s seat. There was no time to lose, no time at all. It was a bit relaxing to hear Britney Spears on the radio as you cut off traffic over and over again. There was a moment of contemplation when someone honked their horn at you, and I mean contemplation of murder. You were going to murder the person honking at you.

But you didn’t have time to stop. Who knows how long those little Birds would be at the factory and how long it’d be until you caught them again. So upon arrival, you ran to the trunk and pulled out the Thompson, your lovely little submachine gun.

With that rested over your shoulder, you left the car running and walked straight into the factory. There was no telling what they were doing here, but damn all the dangers of walking into a severely damaged chemical plant. You wanted your revenge, even if you didn’t make it out of here alive. Ideally, yes, you’d live the rest of your days sleeping peacefully knowing that you put your parent’s killers down, but as long as they were gone, you’d be fine with whatever may happen.

“This is officially the final step to my breakup! This is where I became ‘Harley Quinn.’” You heard a familiar annoying voice echo through the abandoned building.

“This place is starting to creep me out...” Another voice muttered, the voice of a singer. Someone who you and your family trusted until she stabbed you each in the back. God, your blood was boiling just thinking about having relations to these cruel women. But luckily for you, you were about to return a favor.

There’s one little detail I left out, you have been carrying a single hand grenade on your person since you learned about your Dad’s cause of death. It was the perfect revenge. In your head, at least. You yanked the ring with your teeth, you just had to give it a try! But grenades don’t work like that, that’s just a trope in media to made it look badass, as if a giant explosion isn’t badass enough. So you pulled the ring with all your might, this time with your fingers, and popped the pin out. The girls had yet to notice your presence, but that was about to change.

Timing was everything here: you had to give yourself time to escape, but you couldn’t give them time to escape. Maybe ypu should have thought this through before pulling the pin.

Fuck it, toss! The Birds were standing on the grates of the second floor, so there was an alerting clink when the bomb landed.

“Oh, shit!” Harley screamed and bolted. “Run for it!” As they scattered in all different directions, you spectated in excitement. The one that killed Papa Vic, the Crossbow Killer, hopped off the platform and landed on the concrete rubble below, then the sudden force of the explosion pushed them every which way. You, too, actually.

“What the hell? Who’s here?!” Canary cried as she checked her face for cuts, finding blood on her hands. Each of you was covered in dirt and grime, blood and bruises.

“Everyone okay?” The cop asked her company and heard a bundle of groans from the pack, could be worse?

Oh, it could be worse...especially once you revealed yourself to the little ragtags.

“Hi there!” You introduced. “A few of you remember me, huh? Hey, Harley, Miss Lance.” You waved with a pistol in your hand and Papa Vic’s sharp gift in the other.

“‘Course you’re here for revenge.” Harley blew a raspberry as she crossed her arms, but the rest of the group just stared at you. “You’re dads started it.”

“Wait, they were together?” Cass asked the wrong question at the wrong time.

“Shut up, kid. Love you.” Harley pushed the child out of the way and stepped forward. “So ya wanna get back at us, huh? Got it all planned out? Ya don’t have the discipline, sweetie. That’s what did your dads in.”

“Quiet!” You shouted with a haunting similarity to Roman. “Listen, I don’t need to kill all of you. I’d really love to, but I won’t.” You explained as you paced around shifting bricks. “Harley and the crossbow girl are who I really want. I thought about offing the songbird for being a narc, but if she flies away now, maybe I’ll let her go.”

“My name is Huntress.” The girl in distasteful purple makeup growled, you just had to laugh.

“I don’t give a shit what your name is, I just care how you die.” You held the blade out for her to see. “Stab my Papa through the neck, I do the same. It’s only fitting I use the knife he gave me to do it. Poetic, huh?”

“I wasn’t even the one that killed him! Technically it was the kid, tell ‘em!” Said the Joker’s ex-lady.

“Wow, thanks for throwing me under the bus!” Cassandra threw her hands up and you pointed your bedazzled gun at Harley’s chest. “Shit, look out!”

“It might not be a grenade, but it still goes ‘boom.’” You slowly tightened your finger around the trigger, but ducked and missed when a brick came flying towards you, courtesy of Little Miss Trouble.

“Fuck’s sake!” You screamed and came running towards the other target, who flipped you over her back, causing you to land on yours. I can’t even describe the noise you made.

“I had been planning to kill Victor Zsasz for years, alright? I had every right to do so.” She went off for the team to witness. “He murdered my entire family in front of me when I was a child! Do you know what it’s like to be an orphan?!” Huntress’s voice was sharp and rough, there was a slim chance that she’d be taking any more shit today.

“Yes, you idiot.” You glared up at her while she planted a foot on either side of your torso, aiming an arrow at your head. “I was adopted by Roman and Vic after they found me on the street.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that they took everything from me.” The others simply watched the show, how could they not? Helena’s stone-cold voice was chilling.

“And what do you think you did to me?” You asked with and unsteady tone. “I’m a goddamn orphan again!” You caught the back of her knee and escaped her reach for just a moment as you leveled the field by drawing your weapon once more. “I had it good before you came in and ruined it all.”

“Your fathers were the scum of the Earth, the world’s better without them.” It was a wonder how none of her team had hopped in yet, but it worked out for you. “If you thought they deserved to live, you would’ve shot me by now.”

“She’s got a point, y/n/n.” Harley chimed in, throwing you right off your rhythm. Leaving it to the psychiatrist to evaluate you during something like this. “Remember our nights at the club? I saw how controlling Romy was over ya. An’ how Vicky kept secrets. An’ how they put ya into some really uncomfortable situations an’ whatnot. I dunno what when on behind closed doors, but...admit it, y/n, it wasn’t as perfect as ya make it out ta be.”

“They did their best.” You watched each face turn to pity you, it broke you all over again. “Fuck! Fuck you guys!” You dropped your guard and pouted at how easily manipulated you could be.

“That’s more like it.” Renee chuckled as Dinah walked past her. Dinah had seen just as much as Harley, that’s why she went right up to you and took you in her arms.

“You should stick with us for a while. I promise we aren’t that bad.”

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove //

[emerald-amidst-gold]

18 19 20 27 28 from the protag questions <3

Ooooo! Lots of goodies! o3o You all spoil me~! X3

Thank you so much! Let's get into it! >:D

18. What is the biggest similarity between your protagonists?

Grey morality. PFFFFT!

I'm serious. I have a habit of creating characters that have questionable methods to situations, but yet can be empathized with or even sympathized with. Fane, Rylen, and Elise all do what they have to do, and it's up to the audience to formulate whether or not they agree or disagree with their personalities and actions.

I'll say this once because I've had people in the past kind of...bash me for it, but just because your character has a specific view does not necessarily mean you as the creator share that same view. That isn't me throwing swings out at self-inserts or characters that are reflections of their creators, this is just how I feel in response to my own characters. I try to disconnect from my characters because I want them to be their own. I build the foundation, give them a name, a history, or a family to influence them, but I don't steer their minds, their decisions. They flow the way they want to flow. Simple as that. Fane is the OC that is most reflective of me, but not with everything. He has his own methods, own reasons for thinking the way that he does and so do I.

I think it has a lot of my fixation on making characters teeter has to do with how I interact with the world in real life. I just...don't see black and white. I give everything the benefit of the doubt and I hold my ground concerning my views even if others might see them as 'wrong' or 'controversial'. I'm horribly analytical and I'm always like, 'But what if...'. That's just...me. XD

But yeah! Grey characters are my vice and I'm not sure if I'm doing it right most of the time, but I try! :3

19. What is the biggest difference between your protagonists?

Mainly how they approach situations and their feelings surrounding leadership.

Fane is rash, doesn't plan, doesn't think everything through before acting or he just outright chooses not to. He tends to make decisions on his own, but mainly only in battle. In more diplomatic settings, Fane is the master of deferral. XD He divvies out tasks that he feels aren't his area from either a lack of interest, a lack of confidence in himself, or just feeling that someone else would be the better option.

Rylen has his moments of brashness, but he's pretty subdued, go with the flow type of deal, but most who know him intimately know he's pretty high strung when it comes to matters where his voice has power. Man's a ball of stress and anxiety. PFFT!

Elise is the calmest out of the three. It was practically trained into her in the Circle. She's also just inherently docile, but after the Blight she does have moments of being feral and unhinged. That mostly happens if one of her companions are in danger or if her own life is threatened. She's not afraid to make her voice heard, either. Generally, Elise is soft spoken, but she will stand up for herself and other people, despite the grief it could cause her.

20. Who handles responsibility the best? And who handles it the worst?

If Fane puts his mind to it, he can handle responsibility pretty well. His want to involve himself deeply in matters doesn't happen until after Adamant and only gets stronger and stronger after Trespasser. Fane is a force when he wants to be and Solas tries to draw that out, to make him realize he can do whatever he puts his mind to. However, Elise would be the best in terms of responsibility. She had a lot in the Circle, even more during the Blight, and a substantial amount as Warden-Commander. Does she wish she could rest? Of course! But she doesn't complain because she knows she can make change. Rylen's okay with responsibility; he becomes Viscount after all. But, he is prone to slacking off at times, but really only after the Chantry explosion. The guy is TIRED. What can I say? XD

All in all, none of them bad at handling responsibility. They just have different ways that they go about it! :D

27. What would their fears on the graves in the fade during Here Lies The Abyss be?

Yes, yes, yes, YES! The question! The big question! The question that leads to Fane and Solas' first kiss! AHAHAHAH! >:D

Elise - Betrayal. This is more in terms of Elise towards herself and her own actions. She's afraid that everything she's ever done has been one great betrayal to everyone and everything she has ever cared about. She had no choice but to witness Jowan become Tranquil, Alistair, so hurt and angered by her decision at the Landsmeet, abandoned her to face the possibility of the death alone, her faith was sundered after the Broken Circle, making her fear her magic for the first time in her life and making her wonder when she would become the very monsters she had just finished killing. The list goes on. Elise made so many decisions in service to the world, but she silently wonders when it'll all come crashing down around her, when everyone will leave her because they'd been betrayed.

Rylen - Wasn't enough. Rylen wrestles constantly with the fact that he's never been strong enough. He wasn't strong enough for Carver; the ogre ripping him from their family and pounding into pulp. He wasn't strong enough for Bethany; unable to protect her from the templars, so he opted to take her to the Deep Roads, thinking it would be safer, but it wasn't. He wasn't strong enough for his mother; his eyes focused on the horizon rather than the ground that began it all.

And he hadn't been strong enough to end Corypheus for good. We all know what happened wasn't Hawke's fault, but Rylen the master of blaming himself for everything, so that's one event he dwells about every. day. every. night.

Last, but not least, FANE. *sounds the horns* You ready? You ready?! >:D

Fane - To be forgotten. That's right.

That's Fane's biggest, deepest fear; to be forgotten. I know there's only been a few chapters of my main fic that kind of reference this, but you know how Fane constantly says to himself, 'I wish I could be forgotten. It would be better if I would just disappear and be forgotten.'? Yeah, it's a front. He's trying to convince himself that that's what he wants, but in actuality, it's reversed. He's terrified, terrified of being forgotten by the world, by his sister, by the Inquisition...

...by Solas. That's the worst person who could forget Fane. And around the time of Adamant, Solas and Fane being the stubborn fools that they are, act as if they haven't known each other for fucking centuries even though the truth literally screamed at them after Haven. They were lost together in the mountains with that truth hanging between them, and still they ignored it because it hurt and they both felt they didn't deserve the hope that they could be together. Fane attempts to unearth some lost memories, some lingering feelings, but Solas wasn't ready and guided them away from that unopened bag, refusing to let Fane in on his agenda or allowing him to help in any way. It gets to a point where Fane starts to believe Solas doesn't actually recall their relationship, who he is and he spirals pretty bad in the Raw Fade when that tombstone is glaring at him.

When Solas sees it...he cracks. Quietly, in his mind, but he realizes how stupid he'd been, how stupid they had been. The truth was looking at him in two tones and he ignored it out of fear. It's what spurs Solas to take Fane into the Fade and show his dragon the place where he had endeavored to make sure the other would never be forgotten. Solas also makes it clear that he had never forgot Fane, ever.

"I could never forget you, my dragon. Your memory lingered within the halls of my mind even as I slumbered. I am but a fool, a fearful fool. I thought it kinder to let you live a new life, unburdened by my burdens. I do not wish for the past to repeat itself, to see two tones ebb away and breath leave your lungs once more.", Solas said, eyes downcast, pained grimace housing sorrow, grief, and despair in its curves. "...But, it is not kinder. It is more agonizing to try and forget than it is to remember. Though, I have never tried to erase you from my memory nor have I tried to abandon what I felt for you--what I feel for you.'

Fane frowned, tugging on the mage's forearms to bring him closer, urgently, but timidly; Solas didn't even protest, but his eyes remained downcast. "What do you feel, Solas?", he asked and received no answer. "What do you feel, Solas?! What can't you forget?!", he repeated, voice echoing off the halls of death and remembrance. He needed these words, he needed to know!

What did the sky feel?! What did it remember?! He just wanted one damned answer in this upside down world!

Solas' eyes shut slowly, chest rising with a deep inhale. "I..", he started, but paused again, face twitching with hesitance and reservation. "No, it's not--!"

Fane growled low. "Enough! If you won't tell me,", he barked, yanking Solas forward by his arms, barely registering the grunt of surprise that left his lips, and shot his hands up to hold a bewildered face. "...then show me!"

I tease~ >:3

-----

28. What is their favourite location within their own game and what would be their favourite in each others?

I answered this ooooonnnneee HERE! >:D (I would just copy and paste, but it LONG. ADHDKS)

And there we have it! Beautiful! Perfect! And FUN! X3

[warriorlid14]

And the Dragon Goes Rawr

Summary:  Percy Weasley is six years old and ready to take care of his baby brother Ron. Molly disagrees.

Words: 2,789

You can also find it on AO3 and FFN.

Percy Weasley was a very smart and mature boy for his age. Which is why his big brother Charlie had entrusted him, and only him, with his favorite book about dragons: The Tales of the Dragon. And it was why he couldn’t let Ronnie get his hands on it. He was only two, after all, and even though he wouldn’t try to purposely destroy his brother’s prized possession, he was little and bound to accidentally rip it. Or so Percy thought, anyway. So he scooched all the way against the wall where Ronnie couldn’t reach him, as he was too small to climb onto the bed with him… Unless, of course, he pushed the chair against the bed and climbed onto that first, which he had been able to do for a month now. But Percy forgot about this as he turned page after page, each one containing an even bigger and more beautiful dragon than the last. Along with three facts about each dragon, which Percy was diligently memorizing, as it was sure to impress Charlie when he returned home.

“Perce,” a little voice called up to him (which sounded more like a combination of “purse” and “puss” than “Percy”), followed by tugging on his sheets.

“Go back to coloring, Ronnie,” he called back. Ronnie had almost burst into tears the third time Percy told him he couldn’t borrow Charlie’s book, but Percy had lent him a coloring book, and he had quickly become entertained (after Percy dutifully explained that he had color inside the lines, of course). 

Ronnie presumably did as he was told, but then two minutes later was tugging on his sheets once more. “Perce,” he said, more urgently this time. 

Percy, however, was too enthralled on the page about Hungarian horn-tailed dragons to notice. So he said, “I told you this is Charlie’s book. Go play with something else.”

“I gotta- I gotta-”

But whatever Ronnie had to do would remain unknown as he ran off to the other side of the room. Percy re-read the page about Hungarian horn-tails. They were Charlie’s favorite, after all. It was on his third re-read, however, that he noticed an all too familiar and not at all pleasant smell in the air. He immediately put his book down, and asked, “Ronnie, did you poop!?”

Little Ronnie was at the door and reaching up on his tippy toes to try to reach the door handle, to no avail. At his big brother’s question, he turned around and nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had to go potty?” Percy exclaimed. 

But Ronnie turned back to the door. “I want Mummy!” he exclaimed as he reached for the handle one more time.

Percy frowned. His mum would surely scold him. He was supposed to be watching over his little brother, and everyone knew that Ronnie was in the midst of potty training. But well… He looked guiltily at his book, then pouted. He was sure that it was not his fault; Ronnie should have told him he wanted to poop.

“Perce, help!” His baby brother sounded like he was close to tears, and Percy quickly stood up to help him. He grabbed his hand, and opened the door.

“Come on, Ronnie. Let’s go see Mummy.”

Molly, as it turned out, was hastily preparing dinner and finishing up their laundry before Arthur, Bill, and the twins came back from their trip to Diagon Alley, and before Charlie came back from his play date. It had taken longer to put little Ginny down than usual, as she had insisted on playing with her bottle and giggling at her mother’s attempts to feed her instead of drinking her bottle and going to sleep. And odds were that she would wake up at her usual time regardless.

So when Percy came into the kitchen and said, “Mummy, can you come with me?”, she barely looked up before saying “Mummy’s a little busy, dear. Is it an emergency?”

Percy opened his mouth to say yes, before taking in his mother’s frazzled appearance. He looked back at the living room where he had left Ronnie, who was on the floor, giggling at something he couldn’t see. He was suddenly hit with what he thought was his most genius idea all week and smiled. He was a big boy, after all. He was six and a half. He could help Ronnie and his mum.

“No, I got it,” he said quickly, then turned back to Ronnie.

“That’s nice, dear. Take Ron with you,” Molly called after him, clearly not having registered his response.

Little Ron was partaking in his favorite pastime: running into the magical barrier that led to the stairwell as fast as his little legs would let him, and then laughing hysterically as it caught him and gently pushed him back to the floor. The barrier had been put up for all of the children. It didn’t allow them to go up or down the stairwell on their own before a certain age, lest they hurt themselves or try to wander around the house in the middle of the night. That age was typically four, but Molly and Arthur had decided to keep the charm on for the twins for another year. Maybe two. 

“Come on, Ronnie,” Percy said, grabbing onto his little hand again.

“No!” Ron exclaimed, and he immediately tried to pull away. It seemed he wasn’t done playing with the magical barrier. Left to his own devices, Ronnie could play with that barrier for hours (a fact that his parents would capitalize on more often than they’d like to admit). It was a protective, magical barrier after all, and no matter how hard he ran towards it, it wouldn’t hurt him. 

“C’mon, Ronnie. We have to change your nappy.”

At the reminder that his nappy was currently uncomfortably full, Ron once again took his older brother’s hand who then led him through the barrier and up the stairs to his parents’ room. Percy immediately headed towards the drawer where his mum kept the nappies and wipes. He’d seen her change his siblings nappies’ plenty of times, and had even assisted sometimes. And she had even let Bill change a nappy on his own. He was sure he could manage all on his own. He was a big boy after all, and he was very mature for his age.

“Okay, Ronnie, you have to get onto the bed,” Percy said in a commanding voice.

Ronnie nodded and immediately jumped towards the bed. He put his little hands at the edge of the bed and tried and failed to hoist his little body up onto the bed. “Help, please,” he said, looking up at Percy.

Percy picked up his legs with a grunt and pushed him onto the bed. “You’re heavy,” he complained. 

But Ron paid him no mind, instead glancing at the door with a confused expression. “Mum-”

“I’m going to change your nappy right now,” Percy interrupted. Ronnie didn’t look convinced, though, and looked back at the door with a concerned expression. “And then we can go back to my room and color your dragon, okay?”

That caught Ronnie’s attention, and he immediately laid back obediently while Percy determinately set to work. He took out one Ron’s nappies from the drawer and a packet of wipes. He thought to himself that his mum would be very proud of him, taking care of Ronnie all on his own. She’d probably tell him that he was a great big brother, too. And maybe he could go down to the pond on his own now!

All thoughts of his mum, though, were immediately cut short when Percy caught sight of what was inside the nappy. “Ewww, Ronnie you stink!” He pinched his nose and took a step back.

Ronnie, thinking this was hilarious, giggled and said, “No, you stink!”

“No, you stink, Ronnie!” Percy said, taking another step back.

“No, you stink!” Ronnie said with a grin, and began to sit up to look at his brother.

“No, don’t move! You’re going to get everything dirty!” Percy exclaimed. But it was too late, and Percy looked at the mess in horror. “You got poop all over the bed!” 

“No, you poopooed on the bed!”

“No, I didn’t! You’re the one who pooped in your nappy!” Percy cried. 

Ronnie, still thinking they were playing, giggled and said, “No, you poopooed in your nappy!” 

“That’s not true! I don’t wear a nappy!” Percy was growing louder by the minute and his cheeks were turning red. “I’m not a baby! You did it!” 

“No, you poopooed in your nappy! You poopooed in your nappy!” Ron exclaimed excitedly.

But Percy, reminded of the times Fred and George danced around him singing  “poopy-head, poopy-head”, angrily yelled, “That’s not true! Stop lying, Ronnie! I didn’t poop in my nappy! You did! And I’m telling mummy, and I’m not lending you my coloring book anymore!”

Ronnie’s face fell, and his eyes instantly welled up with tears. Percy immediately felt guilty. Ronnie was only two, after all. He was still a baby. He was only playing. And he wasn’t the twins.

“No, don’t cry, Ronnie,” Percy said, and leaned over to pat his little brother on the head. But that only resulted in a loud sniff. 

“I’m sorry. We can go play after we’re done, okay?” Ronnie sniffed again, and tears fell down his cheeks. Percy began to panic.

“We can read Charlie’s book! You wanted to read it! It’s about dragons! You like dragons, right?”

Ronnie nodded slowly. 

“And- and I can show you the pictures of all the dragons. And teach you about the Hungarian horn-tail. And we can draw the dragons afterwards! Do you like that?”

“Yes,” Ronnie said, but there were still tears in his eyes. 

“And um- um-” Percy tried to remember what his parents said to make Ronnie laugh. “What color are dragons, Ronnie?”

“Gween,” Ronnie said.

“That’s right!” Percy explained. “And how do dragons go?”

“Raaaaawr!” Ronnie said with a smile.

“Yes!” Percy said proudly. “I’m going to clean you up now, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

Percy pulled out six wipes to clean his little brother up and bunched them up in a ball. He determinately set to work. All the while he kept asking him questions to cheer him up.

“What color is the sky, Ron?” Percy asked while he grabbed another two wipes.

“Blue!”

“And what color are the clouds?” Percy asked while he grabbed another two wipes.

“White!”

“Yes, but sometimes they’re also grey. Like when they’re cumulon- cumuloni- When they have a lot of rain in them, they’re grey. And what color is Gryffindor?” Percy asked while he grabbed another two wipes.

“Wed!”

“And?”

“Jello!”

“Well, it’s actually gold. And how does the Gryffindor lion go?” Percy asked as he threw the dirty wipes in the trash can.

“Raaaaawr!” Little Ron clapped as Percy finished up changing his nappy.

“That’s right! We’re all done!” Percy exclaimed, and helped Ronnie off the bed. Then he proceeded to use ten wipes to clean the mess that had been left on the bed. “Let’s go back to my room. Do you still want to read Charlie’s book?”

“Yes!” Ronnie exclaimed, grabbing Percy from the hand and pulling him towards the door.

And that’s how Molly found them. Sitting on Percy’s bed, with Percy holding the book in front of them. Molly smiled at the serious expression on Percy’s face as he loudly read from the book, and at Ronnie’s look of wonder as he stared in rapt attention at the pictures in front of him. Her smile grew when she noticed that Percy had one arm wrapped around his baby brother in a protective hug. It was times like these she regretted not having a camera on her at all times.

“How are my boys doing?” she asked fondly. 

“Good! I’m teaching Ronnie about dragons!” Percy exclaimed excitedly.

“You are? And are you learning a lot, Ronnie?”

Her baby boy beamed up at her in a way that caused her heart to melt and nodded furiously. “Look at the dwagons, Mummy!”

“Yes, I see them on the cover. And what color are the dragons, baby?”

“Gween!” he said excitedly.

“That’s right!” she said proudly. “You’re so smart. And how do dragons go?”

He took a deep breath, presumably to let out the deepest growl he could, and yelled “Raaaaaawr!”

… And immediately a small stream of fire erupted from his mouth, and the book caught on fire. 

Percy let out a screech and threw the book to the other side of the bed. Molly reacted instantly, whipping out her wand and casting a silent aguameni before the sheets caught on fire. Ron, completely unaware of the dangerous situation he had unintentionally caused, laughed wildly, yelling, “I’m a dwagon!”

Molly rushed to her boys, and swept them up in her arms, pulling them off the bed and away from the still-smoking book. “Are you boys okay?” she yelled as she put them down, frantically looking them over and checking for any burn marks, thankfully finding none.

“Ronnie breathed fire!” Percy yelled in an accusatory tone, pointing at his little brother. Ronnie, finally catching the tone in the room and at the expression on his mother and brother’s faces, immediately looked frightened.

A small part of her, the part that was still running on adrenaline and frightened and still tired from the day’s work, wanted to yell at Ron to never do that again. But one look at her baby’s tear-filled eyes, and that instinct washed away. Instead she pulled them both against her in a hug.

“It was an accident, love,” she said. “It’s accidental magic. Like when you turned Scabbers yellow without meaning to, remember?” Though it had been a while since such magic had frightened her as much. The last time was when the twins were three and apparated themselves onto the roof of the house (and then ran all over it, trying to evade capture). It was just their luck that little Ron might share their love for chaos. 

Percy nodded. “But Charlie’s book is ruined now!”

“It’s okay. We can get him another one.” Though she thought that it would probably have to wait until Arthur’s next paycheck. It was amazing how fast two babies could eat up their finances. Hopefully Charlie wouldn’t be too upset.

“But I don’t have a book to read now,” Percy said with a pout. 

“Well, we can read another one. I have a few up in my room. You can choose one, Percy.”

“About dwagons?” Ron asked hopefully.

“No more dragons,” Molly snapped. Then her voice softened, and she said, “I think I have the one about fairies. Come on, boys. Let’s go up to my room.”

She picked Ronnie up to carry him up the stairs, and stopped when she caught a whiff of a familiar odor. “Ronnie, did you poop?” she said, turning him around to check his nappy.

“Again?” Percy exclaimed. “Ronnie, you poop a lot!”

Molly stopped and looked at Percy. “What do you mean again?”

Percy’s face broke into a wide smile. “He pooped earlier, and I changed his nappy, Mummy! I did it all on my own! Like a big boy!”

She lifted Ronnie’s shirt up and checked his nappy dreading what she’d find. Sure enough, it was obvious a six year-old had changed her baby.

She closed her eyes to calm herself. She was not going to yell. She was absolutely not going to yell. Instead, she was going to be glad that she raised a wonderful boy who loved to help his younger siblings. 

In that moment, she truly envied her husband’s calm demeanor and seemingly endless patience.

“Well, it looks like he pooped again,” she lied. “Do you want to help me change him?”

Percy nodded and raced up the stairs to her room. She followed behind, dreading the mess she would find, and knowing that she’d have to wash her sheets. Sure enough, when she got to her room, she was met with funky smelling sheets and a trash bin overflowing with what looked to be an entire packet of wipes. 

A successful nappy change and change of sheets later, she tiredly suggested a nap instead of story time. Thankfully, the boys were worn out by the day’s events and they didn’t put up much of a fuss. Molly laid down next to them with a sigh, and hoped that she could get at least half an hour’s worth of sleep before Arthur and the boys returned.

Ten minutes later, Ginny woke up with a large cry, announcing to the world that she was in urgent need of attention.

[jimjamthehorrorman]

"Texas Hold Em'"

(PART TWO of the "Unconditional Love" fic. In this AU, the boys are all alive, modern setting and not cannibals. Just a bunch of eccentric boys with secrets. Hope you enjoy!)

Early morning, a tinge of blue coats the walls like thick paint. You forgot to close the curtains, but this isn't your house, so how would you remember so easily? You wonder if your dog is having a good time lazying up the house with your friend who came to pupsit. But you have other things to worry about, she's in good hands.

The guest room at the boys farm was empty other than an uncomfortable old futon, some strange bone art (as you know, Nubbins and Bubba are quite the taxidermy artists) and the subtle smell of a "cinnamon clove" candle on the dresser that really ties it all together.

The sound of a rooster crowing next to the window reminds you..

"The boys are up already. Today I finally get to meet the notorious 'Chop Top'" you thought to yourself, struggling to get the heavy flannel sheets off so you can get dressed. "first day as a farmhand, that's a step up from gas station attendant."

When Drayton saw how easily you got along with the boys, he realized that you could be a good addition to the farm. Obviously you wouldn't live there full time. You've got your own home and your own life seperate from them, but something draws you there when you have free time. Actually, someone.

Stomping down the hall, you hear boots already mud clodden. Speak of the devil, he knocks at the door frame with a gentle thud. He groans in a way that almost sounds like "are you up?" You see his eye barely peak through the gap in the door.

"I'm getting dressed, Bubba!" You shout, grasping at the sheets to cover yourself. You hear the sound of his heels turning and a slight jog that turns into some thudding and stomping again. He must have been embarrassed because he turned heel, ran, stumbled and hit the lamp in the hall on his way out.

"BUBBA YOU FOOL, YOU DAMNED NEAR BROKE GRANDMA'S GOOD LAMP!"

Drayton's up.

"GODDAMNIT BOY, GO ON OUT AND GET THE TRACTOR STARTED!"

You hope to yourself he isn't like that with you. Poor Bubba.

"You about ready in there Y/N? We've got to get some work done and then we'll get breakfast made." He took a totally different tone with you. It's almost sickening that he can be so nice to you and so mean to his brothers, but you can't complain because he'll do his best to hold his tongue with you around.

"I'll be out in just a few, Drayton! I'm putting my boots on now!"

He chuckled on his way down the hall.

"Chop Top's back from the VA Hospital, so be prepared. He's crazier than any of us." You can't tell if he's joking or dead serious.

You meet Nubbins at the door.

"Hey! Hey Y/N! Bubba wants you to meet the animals and his favorite are the birds! They're so nice, really good tempered! The ducks are his favorite but I think the chickens are mine!"

"Alright! We'll go check them out together, they have to be fed anyways right?"

"Oh yeah! And they eat real good too! Hungry little things!"

He prances down the lane towards a little crooked shack, Bubba's standing outside the door putting buckets of water and feed out for the birds. He just can't stop wearing that pretty mask and suit. He knows how much you like it and you haven't seen the other mask since the day you met. He's dressed to impress and he's going to get his dress boots dirty, you just KNOW it.

The sun's come up as you were coming down the lane and Nubbins, running in his standard silly formation, makes it to the door and slams it open, letting out all the chickens to Bubba's dismay. He hadn't finished putting everything down and now he has to get his shoes muddy to get back to the other side.

He looks to Nubbins and groans loudly, putting his hand up to his masked face. Shaking his head, he walks around the muddy nasty pen and finishes his job. As soon as he sees you he perks up, running out the pen and nearly ripping his good coat on the wire fence.

"Good morning big guy! Thanks for the privacy this morning!" You laugh as you watch his cheeks redden from under the mask. "It's alright you didn't know I was changing. Anything exciting planned for this afternoon?"

He points toward the gate at the end of the midpoint in the driveway, a truck is making it's way out toward the road and you see Drayton, his mouth running like he's cursing his whole way out. His window is closed but you feel for the poor soul on the other end of the phone.

Nubbins runs up and grabs you by the shoulder. "He's going to get Chop Top from the bus station in town! They finally got him out, he's going to get him and we'll have a great time, a hell of a time!"

You've heard wild stories about this guy, and you weren't sure how to feel about him but certainly he would come to be as close to you as the other boys.

Bubba and Nubbins finish doing their jobs while you get some Alfalfa treats for the cattle out back. Who knew these hefty old things were like big dogs themselves? The one with the biggest horns you knew to be "Dolly" the longhorn named by Drayton and his favorite. You give her a couple extra treats for good measure.

It's only been about fifteen minutes since Drayton left, and based on Nubbins' watch, he wouldn't be back for another 45. Now's your chance to get even closer to Bubba. He doesn't talk much but there's a spark and he for sure likes you.

More of an action than words guy, that boy.

"Hubba Bubba, look at you all fancy!" You smile at him, he's got his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, his pant legs rolled to the knee and he's slinging a 50 lb bag of cracked corn into the feeder. He looks down at you, giving you a once over before wiping corn dust off of his tie and jacket. "I'm done with my jobs if you want to go on a walk!"

Bubba giggles to himself before putting the burlap sack on the pile and walking up to you, excited to spend time with you, knowing soon you two can have a snack at the barn.

"So, do you like living on the farm?"

He nods, he loves it here with all the animals, you can tell. He scratches his chin under the mask. He must get hot wearing those all the time and shaves quite often so it must get itchy.

Walking down a hill toward the barn you pass a beaten up old shed. Getting too close to the door he grabs your hand and snags you in close to him. He's shaking his head no.

"What's wrong with the shed, Bub?"

He looks uncomfortable and points to the barn.

"Okay okay, we'll keep moving." You give him a pat on the lower back and keep walking before giving one hesitant glance back at the shed. What's in there and why is he not letting you in? Weird.

Halfway to the barn you realize you're still holding Bubba's hand. He's tangled his fingers up in yours and you feel him gently trailing his thumb around on your hand. He looks down at you every once in a while just to be sure you're comfortable. He's nervous and it's easy to tell.

You try your best to reassure him by doing the same and smiling back each time. He lets out a relieved sigh as you make it to the barn. A decrepit old metal barn from the 50s filled to the top on one side with square bales of hay and the other side a little table with five chairs and a couple of empty stalls sit. The barn is open on both sides other than the back, a torn up old screen sways back and forth in the wind, like a piece of paper held on with tape. Bubba retracts from your hand to pull down some bales with ease, stacking them into something roughly resembling a couch.

He flops down on them with only a slight rustle of the hay, obviously more comfortable than the little rusty metal ones at the table. He sits up and pats the bale beside him. You walk over and flop next to him, looking around to see that Nubbins is nowhere close by, you wrap your hand around his and lean into him. Between the heavy overalls you have on guarding you from the itchy hay and this space heater of a man, you're warm and comfy. Bubba gazes down at you and envelops you in his arms. He too is very comfortable.

---

"I think they're in the house, I couldn't really tell you!"

You hear Nubbins in the distance, it sounds like he's yelling to Drayton and Chop Top but you can't be sure.

They can't possibly be back yet unless...

Bubba's asleep. You were asleep. How long have you been out? How long have they been home? Is Nubbins covering for you?

"Well tell them if you see them before us that Chop Top and I are making lunch and they'll be too late if they don't get themselves up here!" Drayton sounded like he was content for the moment but if you didn't get to the house soon you'd be in big trouble. Footsteps trail around the back of the barn, Nubbins peaks in and whispers loudly to the both of you.

"Get yourselves together love birds! Drayton's gonna whoop my ass if you two don't get in this house soon. It'll be real bad! So hurry on up!" He blows a raspberry at the now awake Bubba who groans at the thought. You look up to see the bottom of his mask has rolled up to reveal a normal looking chin and mouth, a freshly shaven face is hidden by the mask every day and you don't get to see it so this is a glance you didn't expect. As he starts to roll down his mask, you grab his hand. He looks at you scared and worried.

"I'm not going to take it off" you smile at him and he calms, holding onto your hands. "I just want to try something and you have to tell me if you're uncomfortable okay? I won't ever try to make you uncomfortable."

Bubba nods at you, his left hand trailing up your arm, resting on the nape of your neck where he can run his fingers along your hairline. As you lean in for a kiss, he closes the gap. Your lips touch and he pulls you in closer, holding you in his arms.

Bliss. You may have been kissed before, but he was a whole other ballgame. He had never kissed before and there was a level of touch starvation that he was trying to cope with upon this embrace. He was holding you and being held by you at the same time and he was beyond happiness.

Bubba's depraved lips were soft as silk and cherry flavored as they grazed over yours, his cologne thick but not overpowering smelt of burning oak wood in a crackling fireplace. The only fire here is one of desire and soon you would both be burning. His hands crept up and down your back and hips, trailing over your hands and back to your hair. Soon enough you felt smooth shaven skin and soft pillowy lips crawling down your chin and neck, circling your shoulder. You were completely and utterly surrendered and victim to his tender embrace.

*horribly obnoxious phone ringing*

Bubba breathed hard letting you go, a sigh escaping his lips as he pulled his mask down again. You reach into your pocket and pick up the phone. Of course, Drayton was getting finicky.

"Where are you kids? Your jobs couldn't have taken that long!"

"Sorry Drayton we'll be right there!" He hung up and you could see the dissapointment in Bubba's eyes. You were dissapointed too but relieved because you weren't sure how far that could have gone. "Sorry Bubba, Drayton wants us at the house."

He grunted as he stood up, helping you up after him. He held your hand as you walked back to the house. You didn't get a snack, instead you got a whole lot of a hot take.

---

The birds squawked and cooed softly as you passed by, echoing the same calmness that filled the breeze. In that breeze came the smell of lunch: a mixture of fried eggs, bacon, fried apples, little crunchy potatoes and fresh squeezed orange juice. The taste of cherry carmex chap stick still lay thick on your lips as Bubba walked beside you.

It was going to be the best job you could ever have dreamed of.

[copias-thrall]

Hellloooo! 💜 Love your writing!! What would it be like if a female s/o tied Dew up and teased him? Would he retaliate? 👀👀

Thank you, dear sweet anon. What a delicious ask. 😋 

You tie Dewdrop up—at hands and feet—so he’s splayed out for you. It’ll be fun! you had told him when floating the idea. He’d been mildly curious and had agreed.

But right now he is being tested so hard. He’s naked, restrained, and at your mercy as you work you mouth across his chest, your hands lightly stroking his sides. You’re trying to work his erogenous zones, but in his opinion you’re not touching anywhere fun.

He’s straining and tensing at those bonds, really being a whiny bitch.

“Aww, c'mon. PLEASE,” he pants. “Just fucking touch me, already.“

“I am touching you,” you murmur as you nibble his earlobe.

“The fuck you are.”

You sit up and look him in the eye. 

“Be quiet,” you hiss at him.

He pouts and rolls his eyes, his arms testing the bonds again.

You lean down and give his chest soft kisses, earning a grumble when you take his nipples in between your lips. Then, you trace his abs with your tongue. You make him think you’re about to take his hard dick into your mouth … but instead you trail your tongue down his V to the crease of his leg.

He growls in frustration as he wiggles and huffs at you. So you bite his thigh. Hard.

“Fucking OW,” he says, even as his dick spurts precum.

“You’re being a baby,” you say up at him.

That shuts him up … for maybe a few minutes.

You’re sucking and nipping up along his thighs, carefully avoiding his balls, when he blurts out,

“Unholy Lucifer, you’re a fucking tease!”

You lean up to glare at him “Every time you speak, I add 5 minutes to this.” Then you press your thumb behind his balls. He tries to arch, but he’s tied, so all he can do is tense and fight against the restraints.

“You fucking bitch.”

“That’s 5 more.”

He’s really doing it to himself. If he’d just kept him mouth shut, you’d be sucking his dick already.

… but you knew that when you tied him up.

You lean back on your haunches, spreading your legs wide, and begin to touch yourself in quick swipes. He can see everything, and his dick gives kick. He exhales heavily, bites his lip, and flops back as much as he can.

“Oh fuck. PLEASE.”

“You talk too much,” you say, before climbing up his body to shut him up with your cunt.

At first, he doesn’t even do anything—just glares up at you.

“You can either lick my clit or I can leave you here for the band to find. You’re fucking choice.”

Begrudgingly he starts lapping, his eyes glaring daggers at you.

It’s … not good initially. But then you start moaning and rocking, and he seems to forget that he’s not in control here (Or maybe this is the one thing he can control right now). So he starts licking and sucking at you in earnest, looking up every now and then to gauge your response.

His tongue expertly laps and wriggles at your firming clit, and you feel yourself approaching your climax. You’re trembling and panting as his tongue works you over the precipice, and you ride his mouth as you cum, your fingers gripped tight around his horns for leverage as your moan out your pleasure.

When you’re done, you quickly flip around—your legs still straddling his face—so you can dip down and take the tip of his cock in your mouth.

“Holy shit fuck!” he cries out.

It’s a good thing he’s restrained, otherwise you’d be gagging on it.

You linger like that—just sucking his cockhead and pressing your tongue into the sensitive spot—knowing how desperate Dew is to have his whole cock sheathed in your mouth. He’s whining and writhing under you, and you draw off him.

“Do I have to keep you quiet again?” you say, before lowering your pussy back down to his mouth. This time he immediately gets with the program, and you reward him by taking his dick a bit deeper. You take it deeper with each new bob of your head, and he cums fairly quickly—his release getting half in your mouth and half on your face. You hear and feel him moan into your folds, but you don’t get off until you … well, get off.

You carefully roll off him, turning around so you can rest your head on his shoulder. “Mmm. That was nice,” you say as you wipe the cum from your face and rub it into his skin.

He’s panting, face shiny with your slick, when he turns his head and says, “Fuck you.”

“Hmm, yes,” you say as you begin to get up and pull on your clothes. “I’ll be back in 10 minutes. Stay put now!” You give him a wide smile over your shoulder as you leave, and he curses after you. 

You should have known better than to leave him unattended. The restraints are hardly military-grade, and you tied them with a quick-release knot. 

You’re in so much trouble.

You’re washing your face and hands in the kitchenette sink—and then he’s there behind you, pushing up your skirt and ripping the seat of your panties in half. You don’t even get a chance to break away before you’re trapped in between his heaving chest and the hard surface of the counter.

He leans down to speak into you ear as he presses you flat and says, “I think you forgot who’s really in control here.” He kicks your legs wide—and then he’s got one of his arms hiking up your leg for better access and the other on the back of your neck to hold you in place. You have no warning before he roughly penetrates you and starts thrusting hard enough there’s an audible slap slap slap as his pelvis slams into the meat of your ass.

There’s nowhere to go; you’re pinned and at his mercy as he fucks into you and bites with hard teeth into your shoulder. And you’re wet, of course you’re wet—a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He grunts in satisfaction

“I can’t even punish you right. You’re enjoying this.” He lets your leg go and straightens up. “Keep your fucking legs closed.”

He curls one hand into your hair, angling your neck back enough that he can curl the other around your throat. He starting fucking into you again in slow, hard thrusts that jolt you in place.

“It’s not much of a punishment if you enjoy it, is it?” He gives your throat a little squeeze. “I want you to cum just like this, or not at all.”

He’s going out of his way to not help you—no careful angling of his cock, or pressure on your clit, but your thighs are pressed tight together. You’re certain it is cheating—but with the way he’s pounding into you, you’re sure he won’t notice. Your squeeze your thighs rhythmically against your clit until you’re a shaking, trembling mess. Your orgasm is just there, but you still don’t have enough direct contact to push you over. You can’t really whine, but you’re wheezing and gulping hard against the pressure of his palm.

“Yeah, just like that. Just like that, baby. You can do it. You’re almost there. I want you to cum around my cock.”

Dew tightens the grip on your neck until you’re pushed over the edge from the rush.

You can’t really moan, but you let out a rasp as you feel those first intense spasms of your orgasm. As soon as Dew feels you shaking and clenching around him, he lets you drop, his hands flying to your hips so he can jackrabbit into you. Growling, he buries himself as deep as he can when he cums hard. He collapses onto you—still letting out small rumbles as he crushes you into the counter—his hips still giving little, abortive twitches into you. 

When he catches his breath, he hauls you up and manhandles you over to a chair—you’re too sloppy from your orgasm to do anything but be led.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that you cheated, little girl.”

He lays you over his knees and catches your arm behind your back.

“That’s 20 for breaking my rules.”

With a firm palm he gives you 10 hard spanks on each cheek in quick succession as you squirm and moan at the sting. When he’s done, he dips his fingers into your folds.

“Fuck, you’re still so wet. You enjoyed that too didn’t you?”

You press your hips back into his touch. “Please, Dew. PLEASE.”

He fingers you gently for a few minutes, his slick finger slip sliding over your throbbing clit. Then he unceremoniously jostles you off his lap as he stands up, leaving you at your knees on the floor. 

“Hmm, no. I don’t think I will. You’ll never learn your lesson if I do.”

You whine in displeasure, gripping the chair legs—but he won’t be moved.

“Can I touch myself?” you ask as you look up at him, hand already surreptitiously creeping over your thigh.

He thinks about for a minute. “Yeah, sure,” he says. “But you can only use your thighs, since you like that so much.” And then he settles himself on the couch.

You glare at him, but he only smiles wickedly at you.