#mordecai snow

[mordorigs]

Hello everyone, I decided to try drawing again, and this is what I came up with, I hope u like it

[franmxm16]

[FANART] Waking In The Snow With My Girlfriend.

Rosita y su amiga Daphne caminan juntas por el parque en un día nevado.

Rose and her friend Daphne they're walking in the park in a snow day.

Created By @nicomxm23.

[half-a-stache]

Lackadaisy Expedition Comic Dub

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Are they on the Naughty List? Or have they’ve been good all year?Well that’s for you to decide.

Start:November 12

End: December 31

Green > SFW prompts

Red > NSFW prompts

«timeline»

⇀bold is the fandoms i really want. ↼

◇ day 1-7: {Nov 12-18}

Day 1: - Ice Skating- Rocky Rickaby

Day 2: “I can’t believe you did that to Santa…”-Stanley Pines

Day3: - “I made you some hot cocoa.”-Stanford Pines

Day 4:we were going to a Christmas party but fuck if you don’t just look sinful in red, and you know what? Fuck that Christmas party- Logan Howlett

Day5:- Dancing In The Snow-Rocky Rickaby

Day 6:-Sucking on a Candy Cane- Viktor Vasko

Day 7: - “are you really playing christmas music already? it’s barely November” -Mordecai Heller

◇ day 8-14: {Nov 19-25}

Day 8:-Watching the snowfall from inside a cosy house- Dorian Zibowski

Day 9:-“Carmel apples, leaves falling down. What could better then November?” “I don’t know maybe fucking June?”- Stanley Pines

Day 10: -we got a little too carried away with the Christmas lights, and now suddenly my hands are bound with the lights and oh my god are we about to have sex?-Bucky Barnes

Day 11:- it’s holiday dinner with your family, and oh Jesus where are your hands going?- Stanley Pines

Day 12:-“Do you need help hanging up the Christmas lights?”- Joel Miller

Day 13: -“HAPPY NOVEMBER!” “No one wishes anyone a happy November.” “Well I just did.”-Spencer Reid

Day 14:-one lending the other their scarf to keep them warm.- Mordecai Heller

◇ day 15-21 {Nov 26-Dec 2}

Day 15:-Handing their S/O a positive pregnancy test with a sprig of holly and a note reading ‘Merry Christmas’- Dean Winchester

Day 16:Baking holiday cookies.- Overlord!Husk

Day 17:-“The turkey’s not the only thing getting stuffed today.” - Sylus

Day 18:Jingle Bells: Our muses take a sleigh ride-Spencer Reid

Day 19:-Build A snowman.- Stanford Pines

Day 20:-Silent Night: Not a creature was stirring… It’s Christmas Eve and everyone is in bed, except for our muses.- Luis Serra

Day 21:-The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting): Our muses have snuggled for some fireside Christmas dreaming.- Dad!Fiddleford

◇ day 22-28 {Dec 3 -9}

Day 22:-Christmas Decorations- Dad!Fiddledord

Day 23:-“Breasts/thighs are my favorite part to nibble on.” Rocky Rickaby

Day 24:“You know, tying the legs together keeps everything moist.”- Overlord!Husk (pause)

Day 25:-Christmas Morning- Dad!Stanford Pines

Day 26:-Hanging Stockings.- Dad!Husk

Day 27:-Reader wearing nothing but a Santa hat-Vander

Day 28:-“Dancing in the snow- Reuben "Ruby" Pepper

◇ Day 29- 35 {Dec 10-16}

Day 29:“You look even more beautiful covered in snow.”- Gregory House

Day 30:-ice skating-Reuben "Ruby" Pepper

Day 31:-sneaking around after the other has fallen asleep to put up their gift.- Aaron Hotchner

Day 32:-“Go on, open it.” - Bucky Barnes

Day 33: Day 33:-“Did you decorate the tree without me? I can’t believe this!”- Rocky Rickaby(pause)

Day 34: -Kiss Me Under The Mistletoe. - Poly Fiddauthor x reader

Day 35:“Excuse me—where is my Christmas kiss?” - Remy 'Gambit'

◇ day 36-42 {Dec 17-23}

Day 36:-"Why are there so many mistletoe?"-Connor { DBH }

Day 37:-“It’s time for hand turkey’s everyone.” “FUCK YES YES!”- Dad!Stan Pines

Day 38:-“Alright, mister. I know you’re the one who keeps hanging up mistletoe everywhere." --Sedgewick Sable{pause}

Day 39:-“Thanksgiving is for giving thanks” “And for body slamming each other during the family football match!” - Nico Savoy {pause}

Day 40:-The scent of real Christmas trees-Joel Miller

Day 41: -“I’m going to have you stuffed better than the turkey by the end of the night.” Adam {Hazbin Hotel} {pause}

Day 42:-“I’m not much of a cook, but I’m good at glazing.” -Stanford Pines

◇ day 43-50 {Dec 24-31}

Day 43:-Cabin Sex { Christmas Eve sex }- Stanford Pines

Day 44: -“Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!" Stanley Pines.

Day 45: -“Did you spike the eggnog again?”- Sedgewick Sable

Day 46: “Will you make a gingerbread house with me?”- Dad!Husk

Day 47: - “It’s Snowing”- Rip Wheeler

Day 48: -Peppermint-flavoured everything-Penelope Garcia

Day 49:-wearing ugly Christmas sweaters-Gregory House

Day 50:spending christmas morning together.-James Sunderland

[cherryrainn]

✶ ˚ *   ✬ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓! ✬   * ˚  ✶

cherry here, and i'm excited to present something special to you: a masterlist! since i've been writing up quite a storm... i thought it would be fantastic to gather all of it in one convenient place. that's right, a masterlist just for you!

now you can easily find and access all the amazing stuff i've been asked to write.

thanks for your continued support. let's dive in and enjoy this exciting journey together!

commission me or consider supporting on ko-fi! ⋆

the lorax;

click here!

click here!

hazbin hotel;

click here!

helluva boss;

click here!

teenage mutant ninja turtles;

yandere! shredder x sibling reader who likes exploring (plat) (2014)

yandere! shredder x sibling reader whos getting used to him (plat) (2014)

yandere! shredder x sibling reader who had a nightmare (plat) (2014)

tmnt x robot that donnie made! reader (plat) (2012)

yandere! shredder x brother reader (plat) (2014)

april x karai; karais injury

shredder confessing to reader who's about to jump (2014)

tmnt x mutant! turtle! reader that was raised by the shredder (2014) (plat)

donatello helping reader who's having a panic attack (2014)

tmnt x sibling! reader who is afraid of spiders (2014) (plat)

tmnt x sibling! reader who has nightmares about shredder (2014) (plat)

scooby doo;

shaggy and scoob x child reader thats afraid of the dark (mystery inc) (plat)

sonic the hedgehog;

headcanons of shadow the hedgehog with a stressed best friend/lover

headcanons of sonic, shadow and silver being your best friend

super hardcore sonadow angst (commission)

dragon ball; characters i write

pan x sibling! reader (plat)

cooler, cell, and krillin with a s/o that sacrificed themselves

broly, frieza, & raditz injuring their s/o while having a nightmare headcanons

overwatch;

hanzo taking care of reader

cuddle headcanons with cassidy, hanzo and junkrat

ana x reinhardt in the snow

you're the 3rd shimada sibling and you all reunite (plat)

ducktales (2017);

pocky game; scrooge x male reader

pool date with fenton (male reader)

louie comforting reader who's going through a really hard time

red dead redemption 1 & 2;

arthur morgan x self harming reader

general relationship headcanons for hosea and dutch with an s/o

stranger things;

billy hargrove x amab! reader fluff

eddie munson x reader angst to fluff

billy hargrove x reader fluff

across/into the spiderverse;

cuddle headcanons with miguel

cuddle headcanons with hobie

lackadaisy;

ivy x female! pianist reader (platonic)

mordecai has a panic attack in front of serafine and nico

disney; characters i write

cinderella, aurora, pocahontas, and moana if their noses grew like pinocchio

fnaf;

glamrock freddy x stressed out reader (plat)

kiss;

i’m in need of love; ace frehley x reader (fic)

ace frehley x pauls sister! reader

eric carr x shy! fem! reader

ace frehley (space ace) x fem! reader that he accidentally abducted

speedin' back to my baby ; ace frehley x reader

slashers;

chucky x depressed! teen! reader (plat)

headcanons of fem! teen! reader having a nightmare about chucky (plat)

[a-libra-writes]

Apologies if requests are not open, but could I please have some headcanons (long or short, whichever you prefer) about sleeping in the same bed as Mordecai Heller? Like how long it would take to get to that point and how he sleeps maybe?

Sooo uhhh I went a bit overboard so uhhhh, enjoy this fanfic of the 3 times you and Mordecai slept next to each other. its nearly 4k and also GN reader lets goooooo!

The first time you slept next to each other.

You peeled yourself out of the car, your clothes sticking to the soaked seat just as they stuck to your skin. The rain was unending, beating down on your face and your eyes. The door slammed shut, the sound muffled by the storm. There was no point in pulling your coat over your head. The window shield and passenger window had long been shot out, exposing you and your fellow triggerman to the elements.

With his dark colors and clothes, Mordecai almost disappeared in the night. You felt around the car, trying to make your way to him. You still had to shout over the rain and thunder. "Over there!"

"Where?"

"A house! I'll show you!"

It was so dark, you couldn't figure what Mordecai was doing until he turned on the flashlight. The beam was pathetic against the night and the rain, but it was something. He shone it toward the car so the guns could be retrieved, and a filthy briefcase. You took the latter. Then you pointed off into the distance.

"There, I saw a farmhouse," You said. "Still has a roof, I think."

"You think?"

"Most of it. Come on!" You didn't pull his arm, but you walked on ahead. The flimsy light was only a few inches ahead of your face, even with Mordecai two steps behind, so you walked carefully through the sodden grass and dirt.

The door wasn't locked, but stuck. It groaned painfully as you kicked it open, and the whole house seemed to creak and shudder with your violent movement. You stepped in at once, your body shivering even if it wasn't that cold.

"At least it's not snowing," You said. "Just, ah ... muggy. And humid."

"Anything is better than cold," Mordecai grunted. He peeled his coat off, just as you did, but he was far more bothered by how thoroughly soaked everything was. The house was musty and surely filled with mold, but there was a roof, and a smattering of furniture.

You walked about, surveying the pitiful place. "Stairs aren't worth the risk, but the sitting area works just fine."

Your fellow gunman's green eyes danced around the room. He took it in just as swiftly, and came to an immediate conclusion. By this point, you could knew the way those green eyes glared, his ears flattened and his shoulders hunched. The scowl really sold it, though.

"Obviously, not the couch. Or the chairs. I'm fairly certain there's all sorts of little rat surprises in them -"

"And in the walls," Mordecai said, looking toward the one closest to him. He stepped away. You didn't doubt there were probably dozens - well, maybe hundreds around this place.

"It's just for the night - not even that, a few hours -"

"Absolutely not."

"Mordecai," You tried not to let the exhaustion come across in your voice. "We left St. Louis at the crack of dawn, it's nearly dawn again, we can't see a damn thing in this rain and we're both -"

"I can hear them in the walls, there's probably black mold all over the ceiling, I know there's all manner of - of vermin, raccoons and whatever else -"

"We're both too exhausted to drive, and our windshield is ruined. The storm -"

"-- If you think I'll stay one more minute in this dilapidated excuse for a shack, let alone rest -"

" - I know for a fact you can't drive through this, because last time -"

Your overlapping voices were completely drowned out by a massive clap of thunder. The whole house rattled, and you felt the noise deep in your chest, like a hundred drums. Faintly, you wondered if the roof might come off; but this wasn't a tornado. You could swear you heard scurrying and squeaking under the floors, but didn't bring it up.

"One hour," The exhaustion was there now. You didn't bother to hid it. Just holding your shotgun and the briefcase and soaked coat was proving to be too heavy. "Just one hour, Mordecai. Even if the weather was peachy keen, I can't drive like this."

Mabye you really did look pathetic, or he was finally feeling his own fatigue. The shadowy cat looked just as bad, his clothes soaked and disheveled, nearly all of his hair out of place, his glasses threatening to slip off. He sighed heavily.

"One hour."

You let him determine where the place would be. It was beside the fireplace, a section of the living room that was far away from the couches and rugs, nothing but an empty table beside it. You easily moved it aside, cleared the cobwebs and attempted to dust off the floor with a rag Mordecai found in the kitchen. You both hung your coats up on the rickety stair railings, not thinking for a moment they'd actually dry.

Your gun was still at your side as you sat down, your back against the wall. It was an old habit, keeping it close, even for just a few minutes of shut-eye. You flicked the safety on and laid it across your lap, the muzzle facing away from Mordecai. Eventually, very slowly, he carefully lowered himself beside you. Your head pressed against the wall as you leaned back, closing your eyes and taking a breath.

There was no need to look at him to know he was tense. He was probably stiff as a board, his ears twitching as he looked around, hearing who knows what in the walls and the floorboards. You knew he had a thing about rats, and spiders. You made sure he didn't see the cobwebs.

"Try to sleep," You muttered. "I won't let you nap in the car back to the city."

He scoffed. "You're better worrying about if you'll fall asleep at the wheel."

"I won't, because I'm sleeping. The thing you should try."

You heard him shift his weight. The wet clothes made it easy to perceive, but anything else was difficult. The fatigue was hitting hard, weighing down your eyelids and settling over your sore, cold body. You'd feel stiff and miserable when you woke up, but the storm would be gone. At some point, you may have felt a weight against your shoulder - something wet, and not that heavy, but it was hard to say.

By the time you woke up, that sensation was gone. You awoke with a start, grasping your gun and looking around. It was bright. The sun was leaking through the broken glass windows. Your bleary eyes darted all around, looking for someone - and your heart finally settled when you saw him.

Mordecai put his glasses back on his face. Somehow, he was even more of a mess than before. Maybe it was just easier to see it in the morning light -

"... What time is it?" You asked, your voice hoarse.

"Time to go," Mordecai said. He'd retrieved his coat, as well as your own. The briefcase was in his other hand.

On the way out of the house, you rubbed your shoulder. For whatever reason, you were especially sore there.

The first time you slept in his bed.

For the past few hours, you’d done nothing but look at ceilings. First was the shithole you’d barged into, though looking up at that was better than the angry mug that was looming over you, ready to put a bullet in your head. He would’ve done it, if not for Viktor’s spectacular tackle. Then the ceiling — roof? — of the car. Then … the garage, you thought. It seemed like a garage, but maybe not the one you were most familiar with. Did they take you back to the Lackadaisy? No, the drive was too short … Well, whoever’s ceiling it was, it was leaking. Now this ceiling — simple, clean, blissfully not leaking.

You blinked at it several times, unsure what time it was. Your stomach was churning, your head was hammering. It was hard to tell if you wanted water, or food, or something to put you back asleep. Something itched at your eye — you realized only one was open, strange — and you reached for it.

���Stop that,” A voice. A familiar one that made relief wash over so quickly, it was dizzying. “Don’t fuss with it.”

You tried to say his name, but it was too many vowels. They came out in a jumble. “Where’m …”

“You’re back at the cafe. I just said to stop touching it.” Mordecai scolded. His dark figure came into your blurry vision, reaching for something you couldn’t see. Oh, it was your hand. He put it back on the bed. With your good eye, you scanned your surroundings, even lifting your pouding head. There was a lamp with a soft glow, some kind of dresser-table-thing. That desk looked familiar. You groaned and fell back on the pillow.

“Wha’s th’ damage?”

“Stitches on the side of your head, a black eye, and probably a concussion.” He said. You could see his tail swishing behind him, and it was hard to tell if it was quick agitation or slow annoyance. It was hard to tell with your addled mind.

“Oh.”

“The morphine is wearing off by now.”

“Yeah.”

He turned away, leaving your bedside. No, this wasn’t your bed. You didn’t live in the Little Daisy’s building. You squinted, recognizing that desk and that plant in the corner. You noticed the dark coat hanging on the door.

Oh, this was his bed. For a crazy moment, you thought you were dying. ... No, not dying. He’d just leave you in the car if that was the case. Still, it was strange being here on this bed in this position. Normally you hung around the doorway, or sat by his desk if you wanted to pester him.

“You need… n’ ‘prtment,” You slurred.

“What was that?”

“App- ‘artm’nt… you.” Your finger pointed to him, though it was hard to keep it straight.

Mordecai sighed and turned back to whatever he had been doing. “Go back to sleep. You’re more incomprehensible than usual.”

The words were all jumbled in your mouth, just as much of a jigsaw as the thoughts in your head. You wanted to explain that if there was a couch, you could take that. You could’ve gone to your own home, though recovering alone with an apparent concussion didn’t sound pleasant. Where would he sleep? Was this alright? Would he burn the sheets, or wash them three times then painstakingly get a magnifying glass and tweezers and pick up every strand of hair you left behind?

“What are you smiling about?” He asked, utterly exasperated. You giggled.

“Nothin’. M’ sleepy.”

You rolled over to your good side, and pain immediately shot up the other side of your body. You groaned, clutching the sheets as you waited for it to pass. Mordecai immediately reached for you, anticipating you’d roll right off the bed, but you didn’t. His arm slowly dropped to his side. He waited, watching the smile slowly slide off your lips. Your breathing slowed, and your hand relaxed. You released the sheet. The bandages were still in place, no blood staining them yet. He needed a way to keep you from tossing in your sleep.

Exhausted from both the night’s illicit activities and then the frenzy to get you to an ex-nurse Viktor insisted on, he dragged his desk chair over to his bedside. Your bedside now, maybe. He was trying not to notice the stray hairs on the sheets — his own black ones bothered him enough. He sat down, figuring how he might keep you from turning. If the morphine was still in your system, you might not feel them if you scratched in your sleep or turned too much … He rubbed his eyes and rested his elbows on the edge of the bed.

The bed was always cold when he eventually laid down each night, but it was warm this time. It struck him as unusual, out of place, not part of the routine, but … not bad.

At some point, there was a knock. He may have dreamed it. Mordecai’s whole body tensed, and he flew to his feet, nearly tripping over the chair he was seated in. It teetered, but chose not to clatter to the floor. You were still asleep in the same position, not the slightest disturbed. Then his eyes flew to the actual source of the noise — the young gunman’s body had been running on adrenaline for hours, only relaxing in the past hour — wait, had he fallen asleep? — but it shot back up as he turned on the intruder in the doorway.

Mitzi gasped. She put her hand to her chest, startled by his sudden movements. “Oh — sorry, sweetie. I would have knocked, but …” She glanced over to the bed. “I didn’t want to disturb the two of you.”

Mordecai said nothing, but his face heated painfully from both embarrassment and panic. His heart was still racing, and the distinct, strange agitation he always felt around Atlas’ new bride was crawling up. She was intruding, on multiple accounts. His room, the disheveled state he was in, the state you were in. Something about someone seeing you like this was raising his hackles, even if he was certainly she wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Mitzi wasn’t deterred by his glare, fearsome as it was. Her worry was too strong. “It was a close one, wasn’t it?”

“… Not especially,” Mordecai eventually replied. Yes, it was a lot of blood, but that was the nature of head wounds. And yes, it was a metal pipe, and the fact you didn’t get up right away, but — you were here now, sleeping and breathing with all your brains inside. He didn’t like the way her eyes fell on your prone body, full of pity.

“Poor thing. First thing in the morning, I’ll call the doctor —”

“The horse doctor?” Mordecai didn’t even want to say that charlatan’s name. “Absolutely not.”

Mitzi’s perfectly arched eyebrows raised just so. “You’ve already arranged treatment, then?”

“Yes, a friend of Viktor’s. It’s been dealt with, there’s no need to call a charlatan. He’ll just change the bandage and overcharge us on morphine.”

“I see you feel strongly about it,” She said. It was a simple statement that dug at him, and he couldn’t place why. Why did she have to hang around all the time? Why did she care to talk to her husband’s triggermen? Mitzi stopped leaning on the doorway, knowing full well she was unwelcome. “Well, tell me if you need any more pillows, dear — for either of you.”

He could have grit his teeth — he did, but his utterly exhausted and rattled expression completely lost on Mitzi. She’d already turned her back and left, walking with a grace that made her footsteps almost imperceptible … especially when she wasn’t wearing her heels. Mordecai moved the chair back into place, trying to will himself to calm down. You were still blissfully unaware, still in the same place as he left you, before he… dozed off. Granted, it was just his arms and head that were on the bed, but it still bothered the black cat. His heart still wasn’t settling down; he almost felt jittery.

Mordecai thought he was used to all this — the shooting, the running, the close calls. He didn’t understand why the fear was hitting so hard, why now it was all rearing up. Hadn’t there been closer calls? Maybe for himself. Maybe for you — he never asked. It was hard to imagine you getting in a worse scrap than this.

He didn’t want to look at your relaxed sleeping form anymore. It contrasted too sharply with the bruises growing across your face, and the bandages wound tightly around your head. With a sigh, he stood, moved the chair back to his desk and tried to occupy himself with some paperwork. Better to fall asleep here, than the … other option. Even if the other option was much warmer.

The first time he slept in your bed.

Upon returning from the bathroom, you discovered that Mordecai was both dressed and still staring at the bed.

That was a little worrisome. The past hour or two had been … well, a lot. For him, especially. You hadn’t considered what how Mordecai might act after it all happened. You were so focused on helping him through the present, you hadn’t thought that far ahead.

This didn’t seem like an oh-god-what-have-I-done kind of 1000 yard stare, though. You knew this expression. His ears were a little flat, his tail twitched, he was focusing very hard on… something. A specific something. Your partner (could you call him that now?) was trying to problem solve.

You walked over beside him, quickly puzzling what the issue was. You kept brushing your teeth, glancing over to him. Those white eyebrows were totally furrowed in concentration. God, it was like when he’d get worked up over a chess match with Viktor. It was painfully endearing.

You knew he knew that you were standing there. You also knew he was trying to avoid looking at you, even though you were no longer naked. You’d thrown on nightclothes for his sake, assuming he’d do the same … and yup, he did. Finally, with your tail swishing and speaking around your toothbrush, you offered, “It’s alright. Happens a lot.”

Mordecai nearly flinched. “Do .. Do people just … ignore it? You can’t tell me they … sleep on it ..."

“They'll sleep around it, if they notice. Sometimes there’s not a mess, because clothes are in the way, or position, or they aren’t on the bed at —”

His fur was completely standing on edge, his tail puffed out like he’d seen a spider. Mordecai threw a hand up. “Don’t - that’s enough. I don’t need to hear any more. People are repulsive. They’re animals.”

“Mmhm.” Talking around your toothbrush made some toothpaste and spittle run down your chin. Mordecai was mortified. He turned on his heel and walked over to the dresser, where at some point, he’d folded his and your clothes. That was also painfully sweet, and ridiculous. He was getting something out of his coat pocket.

“I’ll get new sheets,” You said.

But first, you went back to the bathroom to spit in the sink, wash off your toothbrush and gargle some water. You spat again, idly rubbing at your chin. Back in the room, Mordecai had already stripped the bedding and was handling it like it was covered in plague. He was obviously mentally debating between leaving it rumpled and tossing it out the window, or folding before the tossing.

You made the decision for him, taking the sheets off his hands. “Clean ones are in the broom closet, down the hall.”

“The one you haven’t dusted in months?”

You had to laugh. “Excuse you, I did it last week. I dusted the bookshelves too, and scrubbed the kitchen tile, and the bathroom — I know how you like things.”

His sharp expression softened. “I noticed,” He said softly, all the prickly anxiety and nerves slowly melting. You wanted to touch him, to express the affection that was building up — no, it was always there, and it was wanting to spill out again. But after the huge chasm you two just jumped over, you wanted to be careful.

While you went to setting aside the dirty laundry, Mordecai brought in the clean sheets and fitted them over the mattress. It was better and neater than you’d ever seen it, like a hotel. You went ahead and changed the pillowcases, even if there was no need, and you felt his eyes on you as you did so.

“All done,” You said. “What do you think? Do you want a clean blanket, too?”

It was a genuine question, not a mocking one. You’d been considerate like that all evening — how is this? Is it okay? Should I stop? Do you need to breath? — and the tall cat was trying to come to terms with it. As much as it bothered him, he had needed to stop, and breath, because sometimes he wasn’t okay. He didn’t know why, and it hadn’t been a problem — well, much of one, before you. But it wasn’t you treating him like a problem, it was himself.

It was difficult, all of this. Rather than thinking any further, he pulled out a hankerchief and cleaned off that damn toothpaste you left.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” He grumbled, but you only smiled.

“Thanks.” You turned off the nightstand lamp and climbed into bed. You knew he’d take some time to join you. If he really lingered, you’d offer to move to the couch, but eventually you felt the bed shift and you felt the covers move. Then his body shifted — you could tell he was facing away from you.

Your brain was telling you to be careful, to slow down, but sometimes it hurt you to stay so far apart. It physically ached to have to linger right on the edge. So you risked it, slowly turning over and moving yourself closer. You pressed your face to his back, lightly, and rested your hand on his side.

Mordecai’s whole body tensed up. His tail froze against your legs, and you watched his ears stick up. You waited. After a few seconds, he slowly settled. You pulled your hand away, and you watched the outline of his body relax.

You wanted to say something. He did good. Great, even. He tried hard, for your sake, to overcome a great mental hurdle. You knew that, and you ought to be more respectful of his space. He’d already given so much to you. So rather than wrap him up and overwhelm him with all the kisses and touches and affection you had, you stayed there, your tail gently brushing against his.

“Thank you,” Your voice said quietly, barely disrupting the darkness. Some moonlight was peaking through the blinds, just enough for you to make out Mordecai’s dark silhouette. “We don’t have to … you know, anytime soon. Or ever, if you want. I’ll — regardless, it won’t change my feelings. I like being close to you.”

It was maybe a fraction of how you truly felt. That physical ache was back, but you had to stop here. You weren’t ready to say it all, not yet. There wasn’t an immediate response, and you didn’t expect one. You listened to his steady breathing, feeling solace in it.

Mordecai reached behind him, carefully taking your arm and putting it back over his middle. You pulled him in, just so, nestling your body against his. He didn’t flinch, even as your legs brushed each other and you pressed your face against his warm back, taking in a deep breath. Of course he’d immediately showered right after, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. He smelled like your soap.

[bardic-tales]

Hello everyone. As I mentioned yesterday, I wanted to share a personal headcanon about Bianca that I've never revealed before. If you have been following Bia's journey, you know it's a tale about despair, resilience, and the transformative power of connection. This headcanon is no different.

content warning: Abuse, alienation, blood, body mutilation, body horror, death, depression, despair, exploitation, grief, identity crisis, isolation, loss, mental health struggles, PTSD, self-harm, severe emotional distress, suicidal thoughts, supernatural violence, trauma, violence.

In a moment of profound despair after two months of isolation in the North Crater, Bianca attempted to sever her wings with Noctemaris, a symbolic act of rejecting the dual nature that had brought her endless suffering. Her wings symbolize the intricate duality of her celestial heritage: a duality that I already established that Bianca views as both a gift, but, mostly, a curse. Every feather was a testament to the suffering inflicted upon her — by Professor Ravenscroft and Hojo’s experiments, by humanity’s betrayal, and by the torment of her father, Asmodeus.

However, her actions proved futile. No blade or force of will could sever her wings. They were as indestructible as the forces that shaped her. It was a cruel reminder that some aspects of identity are inescapable. This realization broke her further, leaving her bloodied and broken amidst the cold and snow of the crater. The only thing that echoed through the desolation was her despair.

It was in this state of devastation that Sephiroth found her, as he had felt this pain through their soul-bond. He had immediately taken control of SC-X, the Wutain Sephiroth Clone, and searched for her in the vast, desolate landscape, following the trail of bloody, black feathers dotting the snowy ground. He intervened not with force, but with understanding, stopping her self-destructive act with a quiet authority that only he had. As he knelt beside her, he saw beyond the physical scar to the deeper emotional wounds that drove her to such an extreme. He recognized himself in her.

To Sephiroth, her wings are not a curse, but they are a part of her strength: a symbol of resilience forged through suffering. After all, she had grown stronger through the pain placed upon her. With an almost reverent gentleness that he rarely showed, Sephiroth began to heal the deep gashes with his own power, the warmth of his touch contrasted sharply against the bitter cold around them. His actions were more than physical. They were a balm to the deep emotional wounds she carried: a silent promise that she was not alone in her torment.

To Sephiroth, her wings are not a curse, but they are a part of her strength: a symbol of resilience forged through suffering. After all, she had grown stronger through the pain placed upon her. With an almost reverent gentleness that he rarely showed, Sephiroth began to heal the deep gashes with his own power, the warmth of his touch contrasted sharply against the bitter cold around them. His actions were more than physical. They were a balm to the deep emotional wounds she carried: a silent promise that she was not alone in her torment.

Sephiroth’s care extended beyond healing. Once her wounds were closed, he began to preen her wings: an intimate gesture that spoke volumes. Since her wings emerged as bloody, gory appendages seven years and seven months before she had her breakdown, she had only let Mordecai Delacroix and Sephiroth touch her wings. Each touch was deliberate. His fingers smoothed out the bloody feathers with a tenderness that defied his typically cold demeanor as the One-Winged Angel. He explained that the wings were a testament to her endurance. They were not a curse, but a source of power and beauty that humanity couldn’t understand. In Sephiroth’s eyes, they symbolized strength and the indomitable spirit that had survived unimaginable horrors. His words began to shift her perspective, planting seeds of acceptance and cutting through the self-loathing.

That night, Sephiroth took her hand, spreading his own wing and guiding her to spread her own to take flight. Together, they soared above the North Crater. The vast expanse of stars seemed to stretch above endlessly. This flight was brief as Bianca is more susceptible to the cold and develops hypothermia quicker than a normal human. However, it was their first flight together, and the sensation of it was very transformation to Bianca. The weight of her wings, which had always felt like chains, now seemed to lift her past the pain. The cold wind against her skin and the silent vastness of the night sky offered a perspective she had never known: one of liberation but only briefly.

However, this transformation is not immediate or simplistic. Bianca’s wings remained a source of conflict for a very long time after this flight, as they represented the darker realities of her existence. To the world, they are seen as symbols of hope and divinity, yet to Bianca, they are stained with blood and suffering. The humans who once despised her for her ‘deformity’ when she thought she was human started to revere her only to turn to fear and violence when she failed to live up to their expectations, leading to her exploitation by Shinra in a dimension she wasn’t even from. The wings are a physical manifestation of the cosmic forces that have dictated her life, a constant reminder of the chaos and suffering that was inflicted upon her.

Despite Sephiroth’s influence, the journey towards acceptance is fraught with internal struggle. Her wings become a weapon — a tool she wields in her quest to bring about the destruction and rebirth of the omniverse, aligning with Sephiroth’s vision of a world free from humanity.

The symbolism of he wings extends beyond personal trauma. It reflects a broader existential conflict. As a hybrid of celestial and demonic origins, she occupies a liminal space, as she is rejected by both angel and demon. Her afterlife in the Celestial Realm is only offered to her, as it is to all hybrids, but she would have been meant with disdain by pure-blooded celestials. This duality is not a source of balance, but a catalyst for suffering. Her celestial heritage was meant to represent purity and divine grace, but it has been corrupted by alien and demonic influences, as well as human exploitation. Her wings, therefore, symbolize the inescapable burden of her identity: an identity imposed upon her by forces beyond her control. The internal conflict fuels her hatred for angels, demons, and humans, alike, leading her to reject the cosmic narrative altogether as she turned to face her destiny. Her ultimate goal of triggering a kilonova to destroy and recreate the omniverse is an extension of this reject — a desire to erase the pain of her past and forge a future on her own turns.

In the end, Bianca’s journey is one of defiance against societal pressures and embraces transformation and healing. Her wings, once symbols of suffering and loss, become tools of power and rebellion. Under Sephiroth’s influence and their nightly flights through the crater, Bianca begins to see them not just as a reminder of her past but as instruments of her future. They are no longer a ‘curse’ and something that needed to be removed from her body, but a testament to her resilience. They are a weapon to wield against the men and divine who sought to break her. This shift in perspective underscores the complex nature of her character. It highlights the tension between her desire for freedom and the inescapable nature of her identity. Her flights at night is not just just an escape now, but it is a reclamation of identity. It’s a promise that even in the darkest moments, there is a strength to be found in the things we once saw as our greatest weakness. It shows that we can rise above the pain that life has brought upon us.

tagging some fellow mutuals: @themaradwrites @littleshopofchaos @serenofroses @megandaisy9 @watermeezer

@nightingaleflow @prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen @chickensarentcheap @glbettwrites

@seastarblue

[confusedhomicidalrage]

As Fips stretched and picked Abel up, his gaze quickly went to Malachai. "Malachai, me and the rest of the family, except Isaac because he's sick, are gonna go ice skating, do you wanna come with us?" Malachai turned his gaze to Fips, and after a few seconds of consideration, he shook his head and said: "No"

Fips shrugged and then yelled over to Lawrence, who was upstairs helping Eli get ready: "He doesn't wanna come!" "Alright!" Lawrence yelled back to him. When Lawrence and Eli finally came downstairs, Fips was already standing at the door with Abel in his arms. Joshua quickly ran downstairs after Eli, to not keep them waiting, while Mordecai and Micah came out of the kitchen, considering they got a quick snack. Fips then looked back at Malachai and Isaac. "Alright, behave you two" ,He said sternly before they left, locking the door behind them just in case.

After a few seconds of silence, Isaac and Malachai exchanged looks. However, it wasn't long before Isaac grabbed a tissue and sneezed into it, narrowing his eyes as he blew his stuffy nose. He had Fips played in the snow a few too many times without proper winter clothing, and now Isaac had gotten sick. Malachai sighed, he didn't particularly like Isaac, but they were brothers, and Malachai still cared about Isaac in a way.

"uh...do you want me to make you soup?" ,Malachai asked, to which Isaac perked up, staring at him. With a hoarse, quiet voice, the younger boy muttered a small "...yes please" in embarrassment. Malachai stood up from the couch and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a pot and sighing. He made some chicken soup, how Fips always does it, and then brought a bowl of soup to Isaac, who was cuddled up in blankets on the couch. Isaac accepted the soup with a small nod, and began eating it, enjoying the sensation of the heat going down his throat and filling his stomach.

Malachai sat down on the couch and put the TV on, going on Netflix and selecting a random horror movie he had watched a billion times already. In the middle of it, Malachai felt something hit his shoulder, and grumbled in annoyance. When he looked, however, he saw Isaac had fallen asleep, with his head resting on Malachai's shoulder. With a small sigh, and a thin smile on his face, Malachai pulled Isaac closer, so the latter was on the former's lap, with Isaac's head on his chest. As He covered them with a blanket, Malachai turned his gaze back to the TV, his left hand subconsciously toying with Isaac's hair while the right one held him so he wouldn't roll off the the older boy and onto the floor.

BONUS

Few hours later, Malachai heard the front door open. He turned his head, and saw Abel practically bouncing back into the house, with Fips right behind him. Joshua was carrying a sleepy Eli in his arms, while Lawrence was holding hands with Micah and Mordecai. "We're back!" ,Fips announced as Malachai rolled his eyes and stated: "Obviously"

"Where's Isaac?" ,Lawrence asked as he looked around the room, raising a brow. Malachai sighed, and then gestured at Isaac, who was still sleeping on him. "Awwww.." , Mordecai cooed. Abel giggled, but didn't care enough to really comment as he just went upstairs, probably to play with his chew toys. "Well, at least you two didn't fight" ,Fips mentioned as he took off his coat. Joshua smiled, agreeing with a nod as he carried Eli upstairs so the two could go to bed. It was late after all, and Eli was tired. Micah leaned onto Lawrence, yawning adn hugging his Beloved Father, as Lawrence grinned and hugged him back. Mordecai chuckled, and walked over to where Isaac and Malachai was laying.

However, as Mordecai reached out to Touch Isaac, he was met with Malachai pointing his machete at him with a glare. "Don't fucking touch him" ,Malachai scowled, as Fips narrowed his eyes and quickly forced him to lower his machete. Fips sighed, and sternly told Malachai: "Don't point that at your siblings!" Lawrence sighed and walked forward to take Mordecai, who was now whining and whimpering, into his arms. Meanwhile, Micah just waddled upstairs to fall into his bed and sleep.

[emilija04acer]

Totally accurate Lackadaisy quotes

Mordecai: I'm so tired of this life. I want to be a roomba. I want knives taped to me. And I want to be set loose.

Viktor: Snow got me feeling some type of way. Mordecai: That's hypothermia. Viktor: Sprostý, the paramedics told me it was the magic of Christmas.

Viktor: Did you have to stab dem? Mordecai: You weren’t there. You didn’t hear what they said to me. Viktor: Vhat did dey say? Mordecai: "What are you going to do, stab me?" Viktor: Dat’s fair.

Ivy: Are you ready to commit? Mordecai: Like a crime or a relationship?

Ivy: I did it! I memorized everything! I'm gonna ace this test! Viktor: I give you one more question before you go. Vhat ended in 1918? Ivy: 1917. Viktor: …You're ready.

The random quote generator is a gift that keeps on giving! You should try it!

I do this with every piece of fiction.

[dakotadraws06]

- The Aftermath-

The light snow fall fluttered down from the sky and onto the forest ground. A light breeze blew through the trees, creating a soft whistling. It was peaceful, quiet, if you took out the burning lodge from the scenic picture. But in a way, the glow of the orange and yellow reflecting off of the snow and trees still made it beautiful. The four figures stood near the treeline. Viktor gently handed Mordecai his glasses, having found them during the fight inside the lodge.

“Thank you.” Mordecai said softly, taking them and placing them on his nose. He pushed them up with his good arm. Finally, he could actually see. His arm hurt like hell though. Atlas held a cigarette in his fingers, looking up with a blank stare at the burning lodge. Mordecai glanced up at him, hoping he knew a good doctor. His green eyes look down at the shivering form beside him. Irene stood there, her lip quivering as blood dripped from her face and hands. He thought back at what she did to that man, taking notice of her bleeding leg. Another one of those guys had shot at her and grazed her leg. Apparently, from what Viktor said, he got a shotgun butt to the face. Repeatedly.

She was holding herself, shivering in the cold. Mordecai saw her desperately trying to wipe the blood off of her face, sniffling and holding back tears. He felt a sting of pity. She clearly wasn’t meant for this job. Or perhaps this was one of her first brutal kills. He honestly didn’t know why Atlas thought this..tiny, fragile, girl could do anything that would make her remotely useful in this line of work. But, Atlas took notice to her shaking. He put his cigarette in his mouth and pulls off his coat, gently lying on her shoulders. She flinched, then looked down at the coat. Irene’s eyes looked up at the man, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Pulling the coat closer to her, she sniffled. Atlas turned, beginning to walk back to the car. Viktor followed after him, rubbing the back of his neck. Mordecai watched as Irene turned, trying to walk back to the vehicle. But with every step, she whimpered in pain, blood dripping from her leg and dying the snow red. He couldn’t watch this anymore, it was getting pathetic.

“Irene.” Mordecai huffed, reaching into his breast pocket. She turned to face him as he steps towards her. Her ears pinned against her head, like she was preparing to get yelled at. Mordecai pulled out his handkerchief, bending down and gently scooping snow into it. He straightened out, clutching the snow and cloth in his hand. The snow began to melt in the warmth of his paw, wetting the handkerchief. He dusted off the extra snow.

“I can’t be seen with you like that. It will attract unnecessary attention.” He said coldly, rising the handkerchief to her face. She flinched, shutting her eyes tightly and taking a step back.

“Stay still.” He demanded. There was no time for this. Irene cracked an eye open and looked at him. She thought for a moment, then shuffled a bit closer. Mordecai sighed and began to wipe her face. He didn’t particularly care if she thought this was demeaning, she needed to be clean and he was an expert in that category. Luckily, the blood wasn’t staining the white parts of her face, so thankfully he wouldn’t have to explain anything if it came down to it. After her face, he moved onto her hands. Her shirt would have to be changed, but she could keep it hidden with Atlas’s coat. Finally, she was acceptable to his standards of clean. He nodded, proud of his work, and looked down towards her leg.

“Let’s get you to the car, I’d rather you not bleed all over your pant leg.” He pushed up his glasses, the light from the headlights of the car reflecting off of them.

“..T-Thank you.” Irene said, quietly enough he almost didn’t hear it. He looked down at her, a little surprised she was thankful that he cleaned her. Usually, people would take offense to him trying to clean, thinking he was calling them dirty or unhygienic. Sometimes he was, in his mind, but he didn’t think that of her. Not now at least. Mordecai hummed in response as he walked back to the car. Irene followed behind him, hobbling on one leg.

They both walked to the back seat of the vehicle. Atlas put out his cigarette and offered her a paw. She took it and he helped her into the car, sitting her on the edge of the seat. Mordecai rug out the rest of the snow water from his handkerchief. He wanted to do it himself, but Atlas gently took it from him, glancing down at his wounded arm. Mordecai understood what he meant, though he wasn’t happy about it. Atlas bent down and gently rolled up her pant leg. The gash was close to her achilles heel. How poetic, he thought. Atlas wrapped the cloth around her wound, making sure it was tight enough to at least stop the bleeding. He straightened out, giving Irene one last look before heading back to the passenger seat. She gently swung her legs inside the car, scooting down towards the very end. Mordecai climbed in, sitting in the middle. Viktor started the car and the engine roared to life. Mordecai stole a glaze at the girl next to him. Her head leaning against the window, her tail curled up and resting on her lap. Her hands on her legs, fidgeting with the fabric. She looked exhausted, scared, looking at her reflection in the window. He wondered how such a small thing could hold so much brutality, so much rage that even Viktor himself stopped in his tracks. That would get her killed. But if was completely honest..

Mordecai never wanted to be on the other end of that look in her eyes.

[franmxm16]

[FANART] Making Snow Angels With Daphne.

En este día de nieve, Rosita y su amiga Daphne se ponen a jugar haciendo angeles de nieve juntas.

In this snow day, Rose and her friend Daphne they're playing making snow angels together.

Created By @nicomxm23.

[nichenarratives]

Crescendo

An Obscure Oneshot

Inspired by this post.

Deep within the forested trails of Missouri, an orange aura licks the midnight sky, casting a glow as potent as the early morning sun over the trees. Closer, the crackle of wood as flames engulf an inconspicuous log cabin is as intrusive as the heat itself radiating from the cabin's carcass, a bright, monstrous creature waning and waxing with the wind, too powerful to be thwarted by the thin flurry of snow fluttering down on the three who watch the building burn.

To the left, an austere feline with a strong jaw and face stripes hunches forward to light a cigarette. Despite his proximity, Atlas May has done little to set these wheels in motion; he arrived with the other two and set them upon the establishment instead, holding back to watch his pilfered heavy hitter and triggerman work their first mission together, gauging if his earlier deduction - that they would be perfect partners - were accurate.

Smoke lit, the striped feline straightens and flicks his match into the snow, where it promptly extinguishes. He raises his gaze to the flaming cabin and calmly drags on his cigarette, relishing the heat it brings to his chest, enjoying the potent hit of nicotine as his rival's storehouse burns to the ground at his order. Atlas quirks a slight smile and exhales smoke in a steady stream. 

The night was almost flawless. Almost.

He can feel the young triggerman staring at his cheek, the anxiously perfectionistic tuxedo attempting to discern their boss' opinion on the job. Mordecai Heller has worked for the Lackadaisy Speakeasy for almost eight months, keeping on top of their books as an accountant, but this is his first job as triggerman, and he fucked up getting into a physical altercation with a guardsman, almost costing him his life.

Atlas knows that's not what worries the tuxedo, however; he isn't begging to return to his desk job nor in crisis after a brush with death, but concerned he's been inadequate. The boy has a lot of anxiety compared to his partner who, even before he had completed dozens of similar assignments, had the confidence to handle himself. 

Viktor Vasko never looked for reassurance or validation, never pandered to his boss, and it's those qualities Atlas wants to encourage in their new triggerman. With life or death hanging on the pull of a trigger, Mordecai couldn't be second guessing himself. He has to be confident, capable, and possess enough autonomy for self-preservation, not hinge his worth on the words of an authority figure that won't always be there to pat him on the back.

The striped feline takes another drag of his cigarette as the experienced bobcat draws Mordecai's attention and hands him back his dropped spectacles. Another slip up, the older businessman turned smuggler muses, sharp eyes still on the roaring flames. Had he lost those, he'd be useless as a sharpshooter and an accountant until they were replaced, if he'd even managed to get out of the flames without time to find the exit with blurry vision. He's got a lot to learn. Viktor will have his hands full for a while.

"Job done," Atlas finally states, drawing the attention of both the man and the boy. He pauses to take a last drag on the cigarette before dropping it to the snow, the sizzle of hot ash lost to the violent crackle of the larger fire. "Take him to see Elsa," he orders, catching Viktor's gaze over the tom's head. He doesn't intend to address Mordecai directly tonight; such attention is reserved for when he does a good job. "Get his arm stitched, then get some sleep. I want you both back in my office tomorrow at one tomorrow, to debrief."

The bobcat simply nods in acknowledgement, then watches as Atlas turns and strides away, back to his own car, taken swiftly by the trees and snow, tracks buried as if he were never there. Only once their boss is gone does Viktor look to the young man now in his charge, the tuxedo barely out of adolescence, a boy with a man's weapon at his hip and an unerring need for acceptance he won't find in Atlas May.

Mordecai drops his gaze to the snow, hand clutching at his injured arm more tightly. He doesn't need to be explicitly told he messed up; he's supposed to be their trigger man, to keep his distance, to protect the brawler and take out any who tried to get the jump on him. He'd been a fool not to take the second shot before approaching, to try to save ammunition instead of safeguarding himself.

The subsequent shot had been aimed at his heart. Had he not brought his satchel, had he not raised it in time, he'd most likely have bled out on the stairs long before they set fire to the building. Falling through the banister, rotted wood splintering into his arm, the dull thud of landing on the joint, are all still visceral memories, as was the lightning decision to shoot at the man who loomed over the broken banister, weapon raised for a second shot. 

Mordecai hadn't even aimed, didn't have time, but it was enough to bring the man tumbling down on top of him, whereupon the tuxedo managed to get the upper hand and impale him with the shattered banister, the crescendo of the fight. He'd lost his pince nez in the scuffle but ordered to leave immediately after, had scurried off without them, teeth grit against the aching throb in his left shoulder, the gun still grasped in his less dominant hand.

He'd survived, but barely. Mordecai shudders, both from the cold and the icy reception from Atlas, the man he wanted to impress. Alive, but a disappointment.

Viktor hadn't wanted to bring the boy on this job, but Atlas had insisted, touting that he needed to learn the stakes, that easing him into it would be detrimental. He believed the boy had what it takes to be a successful triggerman, if only he had the right teacher. "You," Atlas had posited, clapping a hand on the bobcat's shoulder as they watched Mordecai through his office window. "That's why he's coming tonight, so you can show him how it's done. You wait; a couple of jobs, and he'll be the best triggerman we could ask for."

The tuxedo looks as far from a triggerman as anyone could be in that moment; fragile, sullen, freezing. Mordecai shivers and clutches his arm, barely suppressing a cringe of pain into a slight flinch. He's a lost and lonely body, out in the woods all on his own, and without guidance he may perish. An almost vacant expression plays in downcast eyes and the bobcat's expression softens slightly, a sudden wave of empathy in his stomach.

He saw that face looking back at him in the mirror many times after returning from the war, and knows the hollow feeling that accompanies leaving everything you love behind to start anew, only to feel wholly inadequate. It's the wonder if the difficult decisions you made really were right, or if you've screwed everything up so badly, perhaps you'd be better off not waking up tomorrow.

Without a word, the bobcat side steps to close the distance between them to mere inches. Mordecai sees his feet shift and glances up through his lashes, shoulder still hunched against the cold. Eyes still locked on the raging fire, Viktor opens arm arm out behind the tuxedo, his hand pressed into a pocket so his coat also fans out, silently offering the tom a chance to step closer if he wants. 

An offer of comfort and warmth, in a moment of uncertainty.

Mordecai hesitates, ears half-turned away from the crackle of the fire, eyes slowly shifting between the bobcat's stony face and the free space at his side. It would be a step to the left - a simple, single step towards his new comrade - and he'd have accepted the unexpected offer, an offer he's not sure he fully understands the scope of, but is enticed by the warmth nonetheless.

Eventually, much like Viktor, he sets his eyes on the fire and silently steps closer, allowing his injured arm to brush the other's fluffy jumper before angling the appendage to rest on the bobcat's front. Viktor gently closes his arm around him, encasing Mordecai in half of his overcoat, which the tuxedo grabs the edge of to hold around his body, trapping the heat in with them as he pulls it tight, unperturbed by the feel of Viktor's arm around his back and side.

The flames continue to lick the darkness, burning the inky black in orange and yellow as they watch, mesmerised by flames in a comfortable silence. A bobcat, offering simple solace to a tuxedo, in need of reassurance... and perhaps a warmer coat.

[f-o-and-selfship-club]

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🧡Jafar🐍 - 🐍Under the Snake's Charm❄️

🎩Dr Strangeglove🎩 - 💜Nighttime is Warm for Gloves🎩

❤️Luvli💚 - 💜Brightness in Love❤️

🐍🎩Sir Pentious💛🖤 - 🌙🦋Fluttering for a Snake🐍💛

💚Luigi💚 - 💚Emerald Clouds☁️

🌼Princess Daisy🧡 - 🌼Sunshine in a Daisy☁️

🔥Bowser🔥 - 🔥Flaming Maiden☁️

🎩Right Hand Man🦾 - 🎩The Cybernetic Attachment🦾

🖤Mordecai Heller🖤 - 🖤Guns N Violets💜

💚Dr Nefarious💚

🧡Emperor Nefarious🧡

🪨Eijirou Kirishima🪨 - 🌙Crush on a Moon Rock🪨

🦅Hawks🦅 - 🦅A Hawk Flying by the Moon🌙

🕒Bezel🕒 - 🕒For Time is an Infinite Dance🕑

💙Gonzo💙

💛Big Bird🐦

❄️👑Frost Queen Cookie🍪 - 🍦Soft Serve Snowflakes❄️

🖤Eddie Brock/Venom🖤

🖤Black Hat🎩 - 🌒An Eclipse Made for Pure Evil🖤

🎃Jack O Lantern🎃 - 🐐Chupacabra's Taste in Pumpkins🎃

🥄Silver Spoon🥄 ‐ 🥄A Spoonful of Sugar🍬

🕯Candle🕯

--Self Inserts--

⭐️Starry Crescents🌙/🌟Star Striker🌟 - Darkwing Duck

🌟Shattering Starz🌟 - Negaverse! Darkwing Duck

💜FlickyNight Crescent Stars🌙🌟 - Main

❄️Blizzard❄️ - Disney's Aladdin

💜Flickz🖌 - Courage The Cowardly Dog

📺Digitalizer📺 - SMG4

🌼June Sheep🐑 - Looney Tunes

💛Flapjak🐑 - Chikn Nuggit

🌟Comet🌟/🌙LunaFlakez❄️/❄️Cryo-Bite❄️ - DC

🌸Lily Padz🌸 - Disney's Peter Pan

🌙Midnight🦋 - Hazbin Hotel

❄️Snowflake💙🔥 - Helluva Boss

📺Vision🧣 - Second Courage The Cowardly Dog s/i

💮Floral OwlSwoops🦉 - Ducktales

🌙Night Light🕯 - Moshi Monsters

💜Plum🍓 - SpongeBob

🍦Vanilla🍮 - Kirby

☁️Cloudz☁️ - Mario

🐑SheepZap⚡️ - Sonic

💜Zunar💜 - Sonic

🌌Outer🌌 - Buzz Lightyear of Star Command

🌱Life Drainess🌱 - Evil Con Carne

🌸Melody Sweetness🍬 - My Little Pony

🧪Tulip Possum🍉 - Crash Bandicoot

🐑MoonCloudz🖤 - Mario.EXE/Mario's Madness

🐑💜SheepZap.XTX⚡️🖤 - Sonic.EXE

🍦Vanilla Herb🌿 - Cuphead/Cuphead Show

🍦🤎Vanilla Butterscotch Cookie🍪 - Cookie Run: Kingdom

🌙Helene🌟/🌙Lunar Brightstar🌟 - My Hero Academia

💎Opal🤍 - Henry Stickmin

🐀Pom Pom🌸 - Happy Tree Friends

🐇Snuggle Bun💤 - The Amazing Digital Circus

🍮Creme Sweetheart🍮 - Pizza Tower

🛰Isotope🛰 - Ratchet and Clank

❤️Nori🍣/❤️Crimson Cultist❤️ - Twisted Metal TV Series

🌙Little Miss Snooze💤 - Mr Men and Little Miss franchise/Mr Men Show

🌒Eclipse🖤🤍 - Villainous

🤍Lumi💙 - Venom

🤍Camellia🤍/🌙Moon Moth🦋🤍 - Marvel/Spectacular Spider Man

🌙The Night Follower🌙 - Powerpuff Girls

🍬Sugar Star⭐️ - Inanimate Insanity

❄️Snow Tulip🌷 - Battle For Dream Island/Battle for BFB/The Power of Two

🌙Kamaria🌙 - Disney's Hercules

--AUs--

💜Genderswap AU💜

💜Mirror AU💜

💜Werewolf AU💜

💜Species Swap AU💜

💜Humanized AU💜

💜Swap AU💜

💜Animal AU💜

💜Corpse Bride AU💜

💜Nightmare Before Christmas AU💜

💜Angels and Demons AU💜

💜Fallen Angel AU💜

💜2P AU💜

💜Under Control of PuzzleVision AU💜

💜Light and Darkness AU💜

💜Jester and Mage AU💜

💜Heroes and Villains AU💜

💜Ghost AU💜

💜Corpse Groom AU💜

💜Medieval AU💜

💜House of Mouse AU💜

[chaifootsteps]

nother small detail I noticed - going by how it looks in the long, side-on shot, Viktor has opened his coat when he sat down but Mordecai left it buttoned up

this is a typical character bit, of course - Mordecai is practically defined by how sharp and 'buttoned up' he is in the personality sense, but given it's also snowing outside you could assume that the bigger Viktor feels the cold less than the skinnier Mordecai

Love the attention to detail, love the subsequent thought of Mordecai latching onto Viktor as a heat source.

[sketchfanda]

Marcy and Rigs:Tales of a vampire queen and her trash boat

(Pictures belongs to @patanu102​ who is also the mad man that came up with this insane crossover ship)

So what’s set to follow in this post is a random couple of one shot ficlets or whatever comes to mind as well as headcanons when it comes to the wild crack pairing of rigby from regular show and Marcelino from adventure time. The human versions pic is my main visual,course some chars in this setting will either be like they are in canon or human, it depends on the funny and what not XD. And may on occasion involve rigby with both marcy and Eileen because hey the guy deserves some love and even with this pair focus,I’m still a riflemen guy to my core. So yeah in this case the setting is akin to regular show canon; seemingly regular world where insane,random wild shit happens be it eldritch abominations showing up because of too many ties in a game of rock,paper scissors or future washed up rock stars coming back in time to kill you because you somehow stole their fame in the future. It just also happens to include anthropomorphic candies and other weird creatures up and to including our resident demon vampire queen.

So background wise marcy is much the same as canon,used to be a regular kid who just so happened to be the spawn of the satanstic archetype eldritch horror Hudson abedeer who at one point became a vampire of course. She’s got some issues of course especially what with a certain  ex of hers but she’s still got some friends that make life a bit easier for her to handle. Such as an antiques dealer by the name of Simon (don’t ask him about that crown he’s got kept under heavy lock and key or the voices Yiu might hear from it about the secrets of ice and snow,DO NOT ignore the signs Especislly the one that says “In the name of all thst is holy,do not touch this crown!”) and a godfather in skips (he’s been around a long time,and yeah him and a few others in the mystic immortals circle aren’t too fond of Hudson). Skips is one of the few adults she would genuinely admire and respect and the closest thing she has to a moral compass of course,and he’s she regularly rocks out with death and she’s nine too fond of his demonic little infant brat Thomas.

So of course it’d be Somethingmoike an open mic night or talent show at the coffee house one evening mordo and rigs in the crowd. And up steps marcy and her scream queens rocking the house with a couple of tunes and rigby is getting a major case of love at first sight bad,like in wayne’s world when the titular char first lays eyes on Cassandra,who also happened to be a kickass cool bass player. Coincidence? I think not,but of course rigby has the dignity and decency to not devolve into a simp,especially on mordecai’s level,that’s for sure!! it’s pretty much like of course they meet up and talk after the show,and before mordo knows it,the duo is a trio as marcy and rigby get along pretty well and share some similar tastes and interests. and like in canon before anyone notices or realises it,they’re dating!! with eileen too because that delightful quirky nerd is the balance to those 2 slackers!! oh sure rigby would love to rub it in mordecai’s face but eileen is the good conscience in this case...marcy though? she’s merciless. it’s a natural fact that from day 1,she’s ruthless when it comes to snarking and making snide remarks at mordo. the guy’s low hanging fruit just ripe for picking out for mockery.

Now regular show being how and what it is,where something seemingly mundane can spiral out of control into mayhem involving space,time and tussling eith secret blonde cults and a giant coffee bean,one such incident being mordo calls Hudson from the nightosphere because of course thst damn simp would think marcy’s got commitment issues due to unresolved matters involving her dad. Only to realise too late Hudson is a soul sucking demon and his obtuse pushy nature in trying to get marcy to take over as his successor as ruler of the nightospehere. Marcy of course is livid to a point she goes full monster and is about ready to unleash the freakin’ apocalypse. Good thing rigby manages to intervene. Never underestimate a determined hamboning slacker raccoon who managed to graduate and get his highschool diploma boys and girls. And that’s a mark on marcy’s blacklist for mordo,among many he’s sure to rack up. Marcy:hey,okay punchies for it? mordo:tch,sure fine,can’t be any worse than rigby Marcy:*bulks uo hr arm muscles to Amazon preportions,windsup* Mordo:wait a-!!!*too late,pow!! Sent flying so hard he leaves a dent impression on the wall* rigby:ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!!

Rigby:oooh Uhm…listen I’m kind of a grower….*ziiiiiiiiiip,thud!!* marcy:……get on the bed And of course rigby woild be lying if he said he didn’t find marcy’s monster forms ultra hot..and yes they’d be very active and wild in the bedroom. Mordo still wonders why his bedsheets keep seeming all soaked up. He will never know,ever!! Highfives:Yiu uuuh..got some bug bites on your neck Eileen:eep!*she knew she should’ve told marcy to tone it down with the love bites!!* muscle man:huh,so does rigby..l Rigby:*gives marcy a deadpan look* Marcy:*blep* So yeah possibilities abound with the insanity here.

[sunshinies]

✧❅ Kaeya Alberich inspired names/prns/titles!❆✧

art by x! for anon!

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⚔️ names:

achilles, adrian , alexis , amadeus , ambrose , anders , ansel , aristotle , arthur , atticus , auguste , augustus , blair , bowie , cassius , cecil , chance , chioni , colin , colton , cyril , declan , dimitri , ezra , gabriel , gunnar , icarus , joel , jude , julian , julius , keith , lachlan , laurent , lazarus , malachai , maximillian , mordecai , percy, pierce , princeton , rhys , seamus , silas , sivert, sterling, terence , theodore, vincent , xerxes , yves

🤍 pronouns:

ice/ices/iceself , snow/snows/snowself , ae/ aeir/aeirself , myst/mysts/mystself , abyss/ abyss/abysself , fro/frost/frostself , cel/celes/ celeself , cae/caer/caerself , pavo/pavos/ pavoself , cryo/cryos/cryoself

❄️ titles:

the heir of the godless city, his frostbiting embrace , the son of undying hope , he whose eyes never shut , knight of the shimmering glacier , the son of great prophecy , the eye of the peacock's feather

prns and gendered terms may be replaced.

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additional tags: @eternoelle @hauntingidol @delusielle @puriette @the-astropaws