#oh my god it's like dragon and donkey

[simpingforcys]

Here on anon so I can tell this life story and your can share it to the world. Te he te he. 🥰

So anyway, when I was younger I had a crush on King Candy/Turbo (I still do to this day. Lol) and well I for some inexplicable reasons open told my mom about it. 😰😅

Like I would tell her how much I love that small man, how much I would love to marry him. I would go I go details about him as a cybug and how I could ride on his back and never have to fly on a plane to get anywhere. Or I'd say how much I'd hold the small man in my lap and just love him to bits.

If anyone has a time machine, please go back in time and shut my younger self up. Like omg. 😭☠️💀

NO WAIT CUZ THATS SO CUTE

For one, it's nice that you had that trust in your mom to tell her your fictional crushes (I never told my mother any. My brother...different story 😬). As long as she didn't make fun of you or belittle you for it. Kids will be kids, after all, with their little dreams and fantasies (that go into adulthood but no one needs to know that akdjaj). I hope she maybe thought about getting you something from him, too, like his racer set? When it was cheaper, at least. A little figurine? Or just a bunch of candy akdjks

And honestly so true about not getting on planes anymore, do you know how cool it would be to make your own monsterous giant flying husband cybug man?? Personally I'd headcanon him as being just a bit protective of his partner because even more so NOW, he can protect them❤️‍🔥

Hun get yourself a little king candy plushie put him on your lap AND LIVE YOUR CHILDHOOD DREAM

[nvuy]

oh, the eldritch horror! — scar

summary. venturing out in the woods to clear your head was supposed to be relaxing, so why is this twisted abominable nightmare of a beast growling in your face?

notes. i rewatched shrek because i was bored and i snatched the donkey & dragon scene right out of it. but like, instead of a dragon, it’s literally baphomet. does this count as monsterfucking bc idkkk… anyway yeah it’s like scar but his goat form. i thought it would be funny. this is just painfully self indulgent.

idk wtf is going on in wuwa but my brain shut down when this loser came on screen and started ranting about shepherds and sheep. whatever you say beautiful.

warnings. scar, very minimal crack (it’s inspired by shrek. idk what to say bro…)

This has to be the worst day of your life.

The creature snaps its drooling jaw in your face.

It looks like a goat from Hell. Like a black sheep that’s wandered from its herd. You can’t see much of its face, but the ginormous pair of curled horns are sharp at the edges. The cartilage could easily slit your throat in half if you were to make one wrong move and lean in too close.

Four yellow beady eyes glare at you, way too close to your face. You can see your warped reflection along rectangular pupils. Giant ears peeled back towards its skull, pierced with two matching golden earrings in the shape of crosses that are the size of your hands.

You laugh nervously in its face.

Oh, god, it’s going to eat you alive. You know it.

You try to take a step back, but you’re met with the roots of a tree at your feet and the trunk digging harshly into your back.

Bad idea. Oh, this was all a bad idea. The bad luck streak should’ve been an indicator right from this morning: you slept through your alarm and were subsequently late for work, you fell over twice at work, you lost your house keys, and then you decided to clear your head and go for a walk.

You ended up venturing off deeper into the trees to search for herbs to help back at the clinic in Jinzhou. You don’t even know which direction the city is anymore.

And now, there’s a creature—and it can’t be a Tacet Discord—growling and snapping its teeth in your face. It’s huge. It’s way too big to be absorbed, let alone actually taken down with brute force. Whacking it with a stick certainly didn’t help.

All that did was manage to slash a decent gash into one of its hind legs and anger it even further.

It snarls at you.

A bead of sweat rolls down your temple.

Uh oh.

“Oh, what large teeth you have!” Your voice comes out shaky, and you’re trembling as you stare up at it.

A low guttural noise escapes from the depths of its throat, and its jaw unhinges.

Your eyes pinch shut. “I-I mean, white, sparkling, teeth!” You let out a nervous huff of laughter, your words almost incoherent. “I know you probably hear this all the time from your food, but, you must take really good care of those pearly whites, ‘cause that is one dazzling smile you’ve got there!”

The creature’s slitted eyes narrow in suspicion. Its jaw snaps closed as it pulls only a few inches away from your burning skin.

You quickly wipe your sweaty palms on your hands.

You clear your throat. “I’m so grateful that your beautiful smile will be the last thing I ever see. Y’know… when you eat me… ‘cause I’m sure you must be hungry!” You prattle on and on, and your knees are weak and wobbly. “Not that you have to eat me. I’d prefer if you didn’t, but– yeah! So grateful!”

You were praying to whatever Gods could hear you that your mindless babbling saved your life. Or some superhero came through and took this thing down in one swing.

The giant creature seems to preen at your words. Its sharp teeth retreat behind a now closed mouth. Its horn suddenly don’t appear as sharp as they were before, and the curl of them against the creature’s skull look softer and more defined. They were different to the ghastly sharp edges you saw before.

Your legs can’t keep still. Your hands interlock in front of you to try and quell the shaking. Your bones feel like they’re vibrating beneath your skin.

You try to control your breathing. “Beautiful hair–fur, by the way.” You raise a finger to point at the greyish locks behind its horns. For such a mangy beast, its hair looked a bit silky. Maybe unwashed, and it was full of twigs, but slightly soft. “And I smell a hint of berry…” Lie. “…Did you… wash it?”

Stupid question.

You try to control your breathing.

Maybe the beast isn’t a beast. Maybe it’s a nice creature cursed with being ugly.

The creature is still eyeing you.

Can it understand you? Or is it trying to survey whether you’re a threat or not? You can’t tell. You heard somewhere that dogs don't like when people look them in the eyes. You didn’t even know if that was true.

The correlation is stupid, regardless. This beast is far from even remotely resembling the canis genus.

Its head is huge, even when its jaw is shut. Its nostrils are the size of your hand, and it breathes puffs of hot air in your face. You reel back further into the tree. Your stomach drops impossibly lower than it already has. Your skin is soaked in sweat.

The creature bumps its nose against your sternum and inhales sharply.

You glance to the left.

Is it… smelling you? Is it trying to figure out if you’re edible? Oh, Gods, then you’re embarrassing stalling would have been for nothing. What a day. As if it couldn’t get any worse than it already had been.

You can't outrun it. It’s huge. By the time you’ve sprinted ten feet away it can simply lean over and pluck you by the back of your collar and pop you into its mouth.

Your insides churn at the thought. You were afraid you’d hunch over and vomit out of fear on the creature’s face.

Bad plan? Maybe then it wouldn’t eat you, at least. Or maybe it would. You were afraid to take the chances, and swallow the bile rising up your throat.

Its oddly bent arms smash into the dirt on either side of you. A low garble echoes in its throat and bubbles with saliva.

It sounds like a croak of sorts.

The lamb creature bumps its sharp snout into your stomach. Those beady eyes blink—you notice it has vertical eyelids. Gross. It’s like a giant lizard, almost.

Its teeth are gone for the moment, though, so it offers you a moment of reprieve. Or maybe it’s trying to calm you down so your blood tastes sweeter, or something. Sweat continues to roll down your neck, and you swallow the giant lump in your throat.

The red sashes of the torn clothes on its back pull with its form, ripping at the seams even more.

Your eyes flit nervously to the wound on its leg. It’s a small smear of crimson against grey fur, barely noticeable, and you’re sure the creature can’t even feel the sudden pain from it anymore. It seems to be walking fine, and it does not exhibit any discomfort when it shifts its weight to each hoof.

You wince when you spot the gnarly gash you left on it.

The lump in your throat doesn’t dislodge.

You try to ignore it.

The creature’s long neck pulls into view again. It’s watching you silently.

You figure if it wanted to eat you, it would have done so already. Hopefully you seemed inedible to it. Maybe it was an omnivore or something—but those sharp teeth were definitely not just for chewing on leaves and berries in the wild.

Morphed fingers dig deeper into the dirt beside your feet.

You stare into its eyes.

Its still eyeing you.

Huh.

It’s… curious. It blinks slowly, one eye at a time, as you slowly, and so slowly, slower than you’ve ever moved in your life, raise your hands.

Then, you navigate around its giant leg beside you and step towards the gash on its hind leg. Your foot tramples onto a twig and it snaps loudly. The creature watches you with lidded eyes, but there’s a flash of teeth in warning. You gulp.

You kneel before its wounded leg and pull your satchel from around your waist.

The creature does nothing. Its teeth disappear behind its mouth again.

“Sorry,” you whisper with a wince. You hope it can understand you’re not a threat. Maybe it’s scared of you. Wouldn’t that be a spectacle? A giant predator, some eldritch abomination in the middle of the woods, scared of a little flesh bag. “Um… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just scared, y’see?”

You had meant to hurt it, but you’d spit little white lies if they saved your life.

The creature blinks creepily again. That uneven slow blink, like a frog.

You’re more disturbed than anything. You’re amazed that ginormous tongue locked behind its teeth hasn’t come forth to lick its sclera wet yet. Then you’d be more convinced.

You try not to let it show. “But, um…” You dig around in your satchel before you pull out a small glass vial. “I have something that might help.” The vial is made of a crystal glass with a cork in the rim. The liquid inside is a deep blue, like the blueberries growing on the nearby bushes, or like thick ink.

The creature lowers its great head down towards the bottle.

It stares at your hands expectantly before trying to sniff around the glass.

Hesitantly, you remove the cork and hold the rim closer to one of its nostrils. It most certainly doesn't smell good; it’s made up of a mixture of herbs and alcohol, but you know for a fact it does a damn good job at shielding wounds from infection. It was fool-proof medicine; you made it. And you don’t settle for less than perfection.

The creature seems displeased with the scent for it seems to flinch away from the rim. It does not swat the medicine, but it turns its head away.

It looks grumpy.

“It might help the bleeding.” It will help the bleeding. You know it will. It will heal the entire wound. But, you didn’t come here to gloat, so you keep your lips zipped shut. “It’ll sting, though.”

The creature makes a noise. It does not sound like a warning, nor an acceptance of your words. It’s simply an acknowledgement, like a toneless hum, but you also don’t speak eldritch lamb, so you could be far from the truth. For all you knew, it was hyping itself up to open its mouth around your head or take off into the trees.

Alas, it does neither of those things.

It sits back on its hind legs despite its wound and then falls into the grass.

Its eyes shut and it stills.

You blink in wonder.

Did it… die?

Nope. It’s still breathing. Its nostrils flare with every breath. There’s a giant pitiful feeling of disappointment, but at the same time, a smaller pang of relief in your stomach.

Your hand reaches out to touch the tender and raw skin around its wound.

The creature remains still. Maybe it’s sleeping. It did chase you around the forest for a good long while.

You hum. It’s like a giant dog, you think. Like a scary, huge, dog.

You take loose cloth from your satchel and dab the medicine generously into the cotton until it soaks it thoroughly. You don’t have anything to properly clean the wound with, but it will have to do. You do have a wrap of bandages, though, and it’s better than nothing.

Gingerly, you press the soaked cloth to the tip of the wound.

The creature blinks its eyes open and snarls.

You try again in the spot next to it, gently pulling any flecks of dirt you see from the gash.

It hisses then, low and horrible, and you flinch away. It watches you cautiously, hind leg pulled towards itself protectively.

“I just need to clean it,” you say desperately. You know there’s a pleaful gleam in your eyes.

The beast tilts its great head towards you before it snorts and rests down on the grass again.

When you press the cloth back to its wound, it makes a noise, but it does flinch.

So, you work gently. Slowly, like you’re treading through thick murky waters. It feels that way. The creature puffs annoyed noises through its nose, but you dutifully ignore it, watching the shimmer of the medicine in the evening sunlight to make sure it was spread evenly over the gash.

When you’re satisfied, you take its giant hoof in your lap and wrap the bandages around its leg. The size of its calf takes up almost all of the roll, but you make it work, tucking the ends into the wrap. The creature does not deter away from the treatment.

You hope it isn’t too tight.

It’ll give the beast another good reason to close its jaw around your head.

The creature blinks its gross eyes open again, those rectangular pupils drawing thinner. It’s surveying the bandaging like it’s foreign; it probably is, given the creature has probably never received treatment in its life. You notice the ghastly scars drawn over its face.

Still, you’re frightened. The noises that pour from its throat are guttural and flagrant. It’s still huge, even as it lays in the grass. When it raises its head, it’s still taller than you.

You feel a drop of sweat slip down your spine.

It probably hasn’t eaten you because you smell unappetising. You’re thankful, internally.

You stay knelt in the grass, dirt staining your pants as you watch the creature warily.

Then, it coos. It’s snout bumps into your stomach and it coos. You flinch away from the noise, hands raised near your head defensively. Why is it cooing? Does it like you? That’s better than hating you, at least. The creature huffs and puffs against your stomach, and washes of hot air waver over your sweaty face.

You shakily rest a palm on the top of its snout, mindful of the deep scars.

The creature only stares blankly.

Huh. “You’re not so bad.” You swallow nervously. “You’re sort of like a giant puppy.”

The creature lets off a low garble. It sounds innocent, like a passing noise of pleasantries. Like it’s enjoying your attention.

Your hand smooths over the strange fur. It’s coarse between your fingers, withered with age and scars, but it still somehow retains a slight softness. It’s nice. It smells suspiciously like livestock, but that’s better than smelling of blood and sinew.

The creature drowns in the feeling of your hand against its head. The gold earrings are cold against your skin.

Then, it reels back.

You almost jump when its mouth moves towards your face before a long and slimy tongue drags up your cheek. You almost gag as saliva drips from your skin, but you try not to let it show. You shiver instead, mostly out of disgust.

The creature seems pleased though.

You’re glad to be of service. And to still be alive.

Nice puppy.

You try to ignore the slime stuck to your skin as you thumb over the creature’s horns. They’re enormous, much larger than the width of your arm, but the cartilage is so delicate, and you notice chips in the black curls.

It bumps its nose into your sternum and makes a noise.

When you say nothing, it makes the same noise, but it’s drawn out and higher, more irritated. Petrified, you stumble back slightly. You have a clear shot of running now. There’s no trees trapping you with this thing. You could try and make a beeline towards where you think Jinzhou is.

The creature stares expectantly. There’s a slow kiss of a blink, and hot puffs of air fan over your face and send jitters down your spine.

“I don’t– um…” You try to settle your trembling. “I’m not understanding–”

The great creature lets out a frustrated huff, and lowers its head towards you. You think not to place your sweaty palm on its snout for pets again. It doesn’t seem to warrant them at that moment, either.

It’s getting dark now, and you’re growing nervous again. Does it grow violent in the night? Is it warning you? Oh, God, maybe it’s going to pounce.

A cloying scent fills your nose. Your eyes refocus from the tears that melt along your bottom lashes.

You watch, mortified, as the creature warps.

Those giant hooves shrink in size, followed by an engorging shadow of smoke and red dust like sand. It burns your eyes and floods your lungs wrong, and you cough, fanning your face desperately. It stinks. It smells like metals and burnt soil. This mustn’t be good for your health, inhaling all this stuff.

The creature horns curl smaller until they disappear. You can’t see much of it, but what you can see is almost disturbing. It looks painful. The silhouette of the great beast continues to shrink, and those beautiful tresses of white and grey hair curl along what can be assumed to be a more normal looking face.

Its silhouette vaguely resembles a human, but there’s much too little to see you’re not quite sure. Black ripples down those long arms and pulls away the fur covering them.

There’s the snapping and straightening of bones. You almost puke at the sound. You force yourself to look away. Sweat pools in your throat like an oasis.

When you find the courage to glance back, the shadows then peel away from the inky red fog and dust.

You gulp.

It’s a man.

It’s the beast, and you know it is because the scars on the creature’s head match the lines and pulls of his skin. He’s devoid of fur now, and his hair is dramatically shorter, small curls imitating those giant black horns twisting around the now fleshy lobes of his ears and his neck.

His clothes are the same. Ruined and tattered, but still that red coat. His shirt is caked in dirt and his pants are torn where the gash is. It’s still covered by the rolls of bandages.

He is on his hands and knees in the grass. He looks exhausted, like he’s trying to recover from the most painful transformation you’ve ever witnessed in your life.

“Um…” It’s the only thing that can seem to form coherently from your mouth.

A grin cracks onto the man’s face. “Hi.”

You nod slowly in a greeting.

Your spine snaps rod straight in fright.

The man stands to his feet slowly. His bones crack and continue snapping as he moves, and he lets off an annoyed sigh before he stretches and pulls knots from his joints.

Then, he suddenly looks alive. “That’s better. God, have you ever been trapped in your own body?” You briskly shake your head, to which he scoffs playfully and continues, “‘course you haven’t! Silly me.”

“Are you–” You feel stupid for asking, but there’s something forcing you to say it. “Are you a Tacet Discord?”

The man’s face morphs to answer your question. “Do I look like a Tacet Discord?”

Well. He did. About five minutes ago. It takes effort not to respond with irked quips, eyes flitting towards your satchel that’s still resting by his feet where you had left it.

He notices you staring at it and kneels down to pick it up. The thin strap you swing around your body is pulled over one of his fingers like the bag is a foreign object entirely.

You figure he might try and rummage inside. He won’t find much if he plans to rob you.

Instead, his eyes narrow playfully at you. “You are so interesting.” He grips the strap of your bag tight and takes one calculative step forward. “Usually, humans bore me. They’re all cut from the same meat platter, after all.

“But, you…” A pleased, airy little giggle escapes his throat. “Oh, I like you.”

Oh, this is very bad.

That smile on his face says it all.

Very, very bad.

You sucked up way too much to the beast.

You’re in for it now.

You laugh awkwardly in return. You’re not flattered in the slightest.

You hoped the world ended at that very moment. That would fix the problem.

You clear your throat quickly. “I appreciate you not eating me, sir. Really, I do! But I need to get going now. It’s getting dark, y’see, and… and it’s not safe for me to be walking around in the dark…” You’re stalling again. It worked the first time. You hope it works here again.

That doesn’t appear to be the case.

The man watches you closely.

“C-could I have my bag back?” You curse yourself for letting the waver in your voice slip. It sounds hopeless.

As expected, he only snorts. “Nope.” He swings it over his shoulder. “You’re not going anywhere just yet.”

You really need your stuff.

Your feet remain planted into the floor.

He’s scary. His smile isn’t normal. The scars pulling around his eyes make it so much worse, too.

His head tilts curiously to the side. He’s walking right towards you now. His eyes rapidly move from your face down to your legs, surveying every inch of you he could.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear.

“What’s your name, little lamb?”

Your heart spikes in your chest. He’ll follow you right back to the city, you know it. You can see it in his eyes, and his expression—where’s that stick to swat him off? Your eyes frantically search the ground as you move for some sort of branch to stave him off.

Your hands raise in front of you to keep him away, but of course your little frail body isn’t going to deter him in the slightest.

If anything, he only coos again.

You tell him your name reluctantly when your foot stumbles over a stray root. You don’t topple over. You can’t imagine what would happen to you if you had to start crawling away from him.

He repeats it once.

Then, his grin softens. “I like it.” It looks relatively normal now, like he’s not about to dig his teeth into your flesh. They’ve straightened up from how sharp they were prior, but you’re sure those canines could do enough damage. “I like you. You’re so nice. So small. So silly.”

You swallow hard.

He says nothing else.

Your brows knit together in worry. “What’s your name?”

His eyes flit down to himself as if he’s wracking his brain to remember. Then, he says, “Scar.”

Underwhelming. It’s like calling a kitten ‘Cat.’ You don’t voice your disappointment. At least his name is simple, and easy to remember.

Your eyes swarm to his bandaged leg.

He’s not even limping. The gash seems like nothing but a fleeting thought.

The man, Scar, hums thoughtfully, a nail pointed onto his cheek. “It’s not everyday you find a little white lamb away from its flock. It would be unwise to give you up to the other creatures in the forest.”

You swallow whatever courage you have left in your bones. “I don’t need protection, but thank you.”

He can keep your satchel. You are out of here.

You turn away from him this time and continue walking forward.

“Oh, but didn’t you just say it’s not safe for you to be out here in the dark?” His words taper off into a chuckle. His smile twists into something grotesque again. His arms are pulled open into some sort of mocking await of an embrace. “Come, little one. I promise I am gentle.”

You don’t believe him.

You’re sweating again. Hot ash clings into your lungs. You stifle the urge to choke on your spit in fear.

Your head turns back to watch him, suddenly alarmed. Gooseflesh raises on your arms.

Stupid.

Your foot catches onto a thick protruding root in the dirt again, but this time you do stumble to the floor. Your head smashes against the ground but you can’t pay it too much mind. You’re panicked, and ice rushes through your veins like blood.

You push yourself up instantly, but he’s quicker, and a foot stamps down onto your calf. It doesn’t hurt, no, but it’s firm enough to keep you there.

His knees hit the dirt on either side of your legs and you’re cornered. You try to sit up to the best of your ability, but he tuts as if he’s reprimanding a child. “Now, now. You’ve hit your head. You could be seriously hurt, y’know?”

“‘M fine!” You push on his chest when he leans down far too close to inspect you. “Get off!”

There’s no physical damage except for a small welt. You feel dizzy, but that’s to be expected.

There’s something alight in his eyes.

Excitement.

This is a game to him.

Scar lets you sit up, though he’s still very much straddling your lap.

That same wobbly grin pulls onto his lips.

Oh, gross. You should never have treated his wounds. Now he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing that matters to him. You’ve caused some great beast to grow delusional because you wanted to be nice.

You’re never stopping to help lonely animals in the forest ever again.

You swear you see hearts bubble and pop from his head when he blinks at you. He hums a small giggle before his arms wrap around your neck and draw his chest into yours.

He squeezes you tight and you buzz with the excitement that radiates off his skin in heat waves. More and more hearts float from his head, and you’re sure his pupils are a shape to match.

“I want to keep you.”

He squishes his cheek against yours.

“Uh…” What the hell else do you say? Especially to this thing that’s swamped over you like a giant teddy bear. You can’t even breathe.

“So small. Are humans usually this tiny? And you’re so warm–”

You claw at his arms. His grip loosens over your neck.

He doesn’t look the slightest bit apologetic. Instead, he looks intrigued and experimentally squeezes around your throat again. “Oh. I always forget just how fragile humans are.”

You sigh in defeat.

Oh, boy.

This is going to be a long night.

[thereweredragonshere]

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Gobber must be so fucking fed up with Hiccup and Stoick at all times. Like he grew up with Stoick being a stubborn ass and then Stoick had a child who grew up and is also a stubborn ass.

I cannot imagine having to deal with one Haddock let alone two. Especially httyd1 era where they could barely even be in the same room as each other without there being audible cricket noises oh my fucking god. He would have been a permanent mediator between the two. Constantly listening to them complain about eachother (Which we do actually see in httyd1 funnily enough).

Them two actually beginning to fix their relationship after the red death must have been so great for him. Because yes his best friend and his sort of adoptive son thing are now actually engaging in healthy father son activities with one another but he also no longer has to deal with being sandwiched between two fucking donkeys that can't properly communicate.

But hahaha Gobber your torment doesn't end there. No no no you then have to deal with two of the most dramatic people in the archipelago (why does no one mention how dramatic Stoick is???) constantly wittering in your ear about different plans or inventions or wars and dragons and blah blah blah. You can never escape the incessant rambling of the two idiots you got cast to hell with. You will be forced to listen to a father and son that don't see any reasonable value in agreeing about things like 34% of the time and you will have to either pick a side or attempt to deescalate the awkward glances and frustrated sighs when they are forced to be around each other after a particularly bad episode of being unable to affectively have a conversation about their thoughts and feelings because they're both emotionally repressed and could both use some therapy.

Gobber has seen every single side of the relationship between Hiccup and Stoick and the whiplash from witnessing a heated argument about the meaning of existence itself in the morning and then watching as they joke and laugh about some random crap literally no one understands in the evening will probably end up breaking Gobber's psyche at some point.

That man's life was pain and suffering incarnate and it was purely the fault of the Haddock family.

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.0k

Summary: In which your friends are idiots who think gallivanting around a haunted castle surrounded by lava is a great idea. And then there's a dragon.

ie. Or, I watched Shrek this afternoon and could not stop thinking about the memes of the Prefect being Donkey and Malleus as the Dragon.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

‘Treasure beyond your wildest dreams!’ Ace said.

‘Knowledge long since lost to time!’ Deuce corrected.

‘Yeah, okay, but what is it,’ you asked.

And neither of them had an answer.

Abandoned castles suspended over a sea of bubbling lava were not your preferred holiday destination. You’d told Ace this several times. You’d begged, pleaded, to please just be normal for once. But noooo. Both the snarky, ginger, bastard and the other half of his singular brain cell had apparently decided that suicide ala boiling rocks sounded like a perfectly lovely plan for your Saturday evening.

“I’m just saying,” you huffed as the rope bridge swung worryingly beneath your feet, “taverns are a thing. Faires. Market runs. Casual side quests that won’t wind up with us being flambeed alive.”

“But there’s treasure!” Ace complained, the muddled light off the lava below illuminating his pout in a way that made it look especially punchable. “I heard there’s this really awesome magical sword! Or maybe it was a shield or something—”

“Or something,” you grit out. “What if it’s a book, huh? You can’t even read.”

“We can try!” Deuce returned, a spark of that familiar determination zipping through his blue eyes.

“Or we can sell it,” Ace said, which was certainly the more likely option of the two.

One of the rickety, wooden, slats cracked beneath the low heel of your boot and tumbled down into the lava below. Maybe it hit the gurgling pool of death with a hiss, or a whump, or some other cool sound. But all you could hear was the ringing in your ears.

“Oh my god. I’m going to die.”

“I mean, maybe,” Ace shrugged. “But at least you’ll have a cool new sword propped up at your grave or something.”

You managed to make it all the way to the other side of the horrible death bridge without plummeting to your doom. Except now you were standing at the foot an equally horrifying castle. It was massive—grand on a scale that seemed entirely impossible for something constructed in the heart of a volcano. Its dozens of ebony spires clawed at the sky. The walls crawled with grey ivy and thickets of thorns so dense that you couldn’t see even the barest hint of brick beneath. It looked evil in the way that cursed tombs felt evil—eternal, and still, and oppressive. Like a creature in its own right rather than just an agglomeration of black stone.

Ace drew his sword and Deuce readied his axe. You sighed and plucked at the strings of your stupid fucking lute, and wished once more that you’d had the foresight all those moons ago to take the cushy internship position Lord Crewel had tried to offer you. But, no. You’d wanted to be an adventurer.

The massive double doors of the entrance swung open with an eerie groan. A pair of stern looking gargoyles stood guard as the three of you cautiously made your way into the castle. You swore you could feel their eyes following you—that you’d seen them flex jagged claws into their stone perches in an aborted attempt to dive after you.

The inside of the looming fortress was no more welcoming than out. Dark, emerald, stained glass windows lined the walls—smothering any of the warmer light from the volcano and tinting the entire hall a sickly green-grey. The stone floors and walls were elaborately carved with the faded stories of dynasties long since passed, but what had once surely been immaculate craftsmanship had shifted and cracked with age—crushing floors into tight slopes and littering already narrow walkways with heavy debris.

“We just have to find the tallest tower,” Ace hummed, swiping at a few dangling trails of thorns with the blunted edge of his blade. “And then the highest room in that.”

“The treasure is never in the highest room in the tallest tower,” you complained. “You just heard that in a drinking song once.”

“Is that true?” Deuce frowned, looking terribly betrayed.

“No way!” Ace snipped. “I told you! An old crone read my fortune in her bone dice, and she said to always check the highest room in the tallest tower! Because that’s where I’d find my greatest treasure!”

“Maybe the greatest treasure is the friends we’ve made along the way?” Deuce suggested helpfully.

“No.”

So you split off from a grouchy Ace and dejected Deuce to try and find some stairs. Every room in this stupid castle was swimming in so many shadows that you could hardly tell right from left, let alone if there were any kinds of secret doors or passageways that may lead to an equally secret tower. The chamber you’d found yourself in now was gigantic, and each tentative step you took echoed discordantly through the ashy gloom. You kicked miserably at a loose rock and it skittered off into the darkness with a dull thunk. And then something… odd, began to happen. That darkness began to move—to rise and unfurl like a great set of wings on a beast. And—oh. Oh no.

“Would you look at that,” Ace whistled under his breath, neck craned all the way back as he squinted at what was most definitely the tallest of all the towers this creepy castle had to offer. “Guess what, nonbelievers. I found the—”

“DRAGON!”

Whoosh went the great swathe of emerald fire as it exploded down the barren hallway and nipped at your heels. You dove out into the open courtyard just in time to avoid being roasted alive, and the gargantuan monster behind you let out a roar fit to shake the earth. A quick tuck-and-roll left you crouched behind a fallen pillar, and the dragon’s bright, green, glower turned on you and your garbage hiding spot with a rumbling snarl. Its rows of sharp, white, teeth closing just above your head—missing its mark by barely a hair’s width.

“Gotcha!” Deuce snarled, his armored fists dragging the dragon away by its tail. Or, well, tried to. Because the dragon was a hundred feet long at least, and your blue haired friend probably looked like nothing more than a pesky rat darting between its feet. It turned and snapped at him irritably, taking a great, big, step forward in a bid to get a firmer stance to attack. You threw yourself in the other direction to avoid being trampled.

“Go!” Ace called, charging in from the other side. “Quick!”

Because at the end of the day, they were still both your brave, tanky, warrior, friends. And you were just a very, very, squishy bard who really would not fare well against a particularly motivated goose, let alone a dragon. So you skidded through the rubble and onto your feet, and started to sprint back into the castle’s halls—hoping maybe you’d be able to find a bit more cover.

There was a great clatter, and both Ace and Deuce yelped. You looked back hurriedly to see the pair of them clutching onto the dragon’s tail for dear life as it whipped them back and forth through the ash and debris cluttering the ground. With one, final, great, sweep, the dragon pitched them into the air and sent them careening through the roof of that ‘tallest tower.’ You muttered a hasty incantation and the sparkling outlines of soft feathers danced along your fingers. You hoped you weren’t too far. You were probably too goddamn far. But you hummed frantically under your breath nonetheless and entreated your middling magic to give them a soft landing.

And then there was another wave of green hellfire raining down over your head and you turned and ran.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—

Even if you’d been a champion sprinter, there was little good it would have done you against a beast whose stride was longer than you were tall. You made it back into some hall or other, and into another cavernous room, and then you were pinned into a corner—the dragon looming over you like a vengeful wraith come to take its due.

It was gigantic. Probably the biggest creature you’d ever seen. And it was sleek—all lithe muscle and glossy rows of black scales that glittered oddly in the dull, grey, light. Its wings spread wide behind it, spanning the entirety of the vast chamber. They looked like the sort of wings that could stir up a hurricane. The curling horns atop its head seemed sharp enough to gore a man or twenty, and the purple crests lining its skull were tapered down flat in a way that reminded you a bit deliriously of a pissy cat pinning its ears back before it swatted at you.

Its lips curled back over pointed canines as it snarled at you, and you were showered in a swathe of hot sparks.

“Oh, what large teeth you have,” you squeaked, and when the dragon dipped closer to bellow into your face, your reeled back with a splutter. “I—I mean white, sparkling, teeth!” you rattled, nearly incoherent. The dragon’s snout twitched away, almost like you’d startled it. “I mean, I’m sure you hear this all the time from your food, but—wow! Just! Very lovely! Definitely the prettiest smile I’ll ever be eaten by!”

Slowly it lowered its great head, and you could see the neon glare from its narrowed eyes.

“Not that you have to eat me,” you added hurriedly, hoping to whatever Gods could hear you that your smart mouth could finally be useful for more than just talking circles around assholes in bars or weaseling your friends out of shitty contracts. “I’d very much like not to be eaten. But all the same, we did intrude in your home—and it’s definitely a very nice home—so I’d totally get it. And I guess if I did have to die today, knowing that my life would be in the hands of something so magnificent is certainly reassuring.”

The dragon seemed to preen a bit at that. You could see the sharp crests beneath its horns soften as tension bled from the beast’s posture. It ducked in close again, and this time you felt a sharp pull of air rush past your cheeks as it sniffed you. Its nostrils were the size your head—bigger even, maybe. You didn’t want to think about it, but the dry heat of its breath puffing into your face made the entire thing a bit hard to ignore.  

“Did I mention what a charming home you have?” you rambled on. “Very aesthetic. The gargoyles at the gate were a lovely touch.”

The dragon made a low, warbling, noise in its throat that wasn’t quite a growl, but wasn’t particularly… reassuring, either. It made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

It ducked away—not far, just enough to reach one of the large, carved, walls at the outskirts of the room. Its long neck slithered out before pausing pointedly over an archway. It took you a long moment to realize it was gesturing to something. Another gargoyle from the looks of things—this one almost entirely crumbled away under the strains of time. You could just barely make out the shape of its square jaw and taloned fingers.

You nodded so hard you nearly gave yourself whiplash.

“Yes! I see! Very beautiful! Such fine craftsmanship!”

The dragon cooed at you. Swear on your life and all the money in your back packet. An actual, honest to God, coo. Fuck, maybe you’d managed to charm your way out of imminent dismemberment and death after all.

It ambled closer once again, a curiosity lighting its eyes and warming those neon irises into something that was less poisonous-hell-fire and more mellow-evening-in-the-forest.

Amidst all the rippling waves of ebony scales, your eyes caught on the smallest smear of crimson. Just a touch of red—right along the spikes of its tail. Carefully, cautiously, slower than molasses, you stepped forward with your hands raised. You whispered a handful of familiar words under your breath and your palms glowed fuzzy and blue. Dragons were supposed to be inherently magical, right? So this one would certainly understand that the string of syllables you’d babbled out were good, and helpful, and not at all a provocation. The dragon was looking down at you with lidded eyes, its gaze a bit unfocused. You gulped.

“I’m sorry my friends messed with your tail,” you apologized, gingerly holding your fingers out to hover over the abrasions without actually touching. “They were just trying to protect me. If—if that makes it any better.” The minuscule wound began to knit itself back together neatly beneath the pulses of your magic. “I do tend to need a lot of protecting—I’m not much a warrior, if that wasn’t completely obvious by the everything about me—so I can’t really blame them for being a bit gung-ho about it.”

After a moment or two, the scratches had faded back into solid, matte, black and you drew back with a content hum.

“There! All fixed!” You gave your most winning smile. Please don’t eat me, your brain chanted on endless repeat. Please don’t eat me please don’t eat me please don’t eat me—

The dragon reared back and settled on its haunches with another heavy puff of sweltering breath. You could feel the heat of it prickling all the way up your arms. After a long, long, moment of silent consideration, the dragon leaned forward again and rumbled deep in its chest. When you only stood there, properly petrified, it huffed again and bumped its nose against your sternum, nearly toppling you over.

“I don’t—” you started, nervous. “I’m sorry. I don’t really get what you’re trying to say.”

With another sigh that sounded entirely too put upon, the dragon lowered its great head. The air itself seemed to grow heavy against your shoulders, and you could taste the cloying bitterness of strong magics on the back of your tongue. Black miasma oozed from beneath the dragon’s talons and melted along its scales. The caustic scent of ash and petrichor burned along your nostrils, and you had to pinch your eyes shut and cover your nose to keep from coughing. You managed to sneak a peek past your fingers just in time to watch the shadowed outline of the beast collapse. And out of that puddle of black goo emerged a man­. He was tall and lithe, just as the dragon had been, with glowing green eyes that were terribly familiar. They were framed with thick, dark, lashes and sat perfectly on a face that was nearly too handsome to be human (well, it really wasn’t human you supposed, so that little tidbit probably accounted for said inhuman beauty well enough). Recognizable eyes and stature or no, the curling horns atop his head would have sealed the deal plenty well enough on their own.

He shook off the shadows twining around his ankles with a lazy twist of the hand and then turned to you with a curious little hum.

And holy fuck Mister Dragon apparently had no sense of shame, or maybe just no qualms about social niceties and practicalities, because his human self was wearing about just as many clothes as his lizard form had been.

You squeezed your eyes shut with a squeak, and then double covered them with your hands for good measure.

A chuckle rolled through the air—as dark and pleasantly rich as the finest of chocolates. And then there was a clawed finger beneath your chin, tilting your head back, and back, and back until you were at least half-way sure it would probably be safe to open your eyes again without infringing on his decency.

“You are fascinating, Child of Man,” it—he—hummed, low in his throat. His thumb dragged down to hook beneath the curve of your jaw and support the finger tucked up under your chin. “And it’s been so, very, long since I’ve been fascinated by anything.”

“Uh,” you replied, like a perfectly functional human being.

The dragon’s lips curled up over his pointed teeth—still just as sharp and white as they had been when he’d been so much bigger and scalier.

“I think I’d like to keep you,” he said with a nod to himself, as casually as one may talk about picking up extra groceries from the market.

“Uh,” you said again.

“You did mention that you needed protecting,” he continued, tapping a clawed finger against his own chin. The small smile quirking his lips twisted into something smug. “And that is certainly something at which I would excel.”

Your head was swimming.

“I—I mean. I’m honored that you—that… you—” You couldn’t even think the words, let alone get them past your brain and out of your mouth. You cleared your throat and fought to keep your eyes level with his clavicle and nowhere else. “D-Don’t you think you’re moving a bit fast?” you laughed nervously. “I mean, I’m sure my friends will probably be on their way back down soon—and—I mean, we haven’t even introduced ourselves yet. I don’t even know your name.”

He blinked, slow and serpentine.

“Oh. I suppose you wouldn’t.” He canted his head to the side, long strands of that inky black hair of his spilling across his shoulder. An amused sort of grin worked its way along his mouth. “Dragons are not keen to give out our true names so readily, but you seem like a clever one. Tell me—what do you think I’m called then, hmm?”

You glanced up quickly at the horns atop his head and couldn’t help yourself.

“Tsunotarou?”

He let out a bark of laughter that seemed to shake the walls.

“Oh,” he trilled, looking positively delighted. The hand not curled beneath your chin reached down to snag your own, and he brought your wrist up to his lips. You could feel the imprints of his canines against the soft skin there. “I’ll definitely be keeping you.”

[analog-kidd]

If Fire Emblem Had Tumblr Part 2

(part 1)

🪙annablr-staff ☑️

Introducing New Features!

Keep reading

🔪v-a-n-t-a-g-e Follow

WTF ARE THESE NEW FEATURES????

ARE YOU TRYING TO SCAM US????

😈fallenwyvern Follow

this is annablr ofc theyre gonna try and scam us

#smh new users bitching abt annablr are so annoying #yeah no shit its a scam

(946,199 notes)

💜mlm-sewer-assassin Follow

Gods why are the men from Tellius so hot!?!

Like look

ugggggggggghhhhhhhlsslcdk;nakc king cainegusdisisudapdaso sooo hottttt 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

🦁the-real-king-of-beasts☑️ Follow

I'll take that as a complement haha

💜mlm-sewer-assassin Follow

(110,119 notes)

🐴cantocantocantocanter Follow

*Edit* I know on other continents archers can promote to other things but I was thinking about Ylisse, Elyos, and Magvel when making this poll

💘no-i-wont-shut-up Follow

in valentia and fodlan snipers promote into bow knights 😎

🏰armored-general Follow

CAN MOUNTED UNITS SHUT UP ABOUT BEING "THE BEST CLASS"!!!!

NO YOUR NOT!!!!

🪶lighterthanafeather Follow

Youre just jealous that we have a bigger movement range

🏰armored-general Follow

NO IM NOT!

and whats that mov gonna do when you get one rounded by a lvl 6 fighter cause your winged donkey falls apart by a light breeze

🪶lighterthanafeather Follow

Sorry! Can't hear you with that 4 mov!

#armors stop being slow challenge (impossible)

(1,109 notes)

🔫tastemyfeglock Follow

Ugh,, can breidablik STOp summoning fredrick???

I already summoned like 7 of him today!!!

🪨pickagodandprey Follow

what??????? who's breidablik??? why am I being summoned??? I am right here next to my lord in his castle, I'm confused???????

🔫tastemyfeglock Follow

GO AWAY!!! YOURE USELESS!!!!!!!!!!!!

🪨pickagodandprey Follow

Excuse me?? I don't even know you!

🪚sidecharater121 Follow

Hey look! A Fredrick that hasn't been summoned yet

(553 notes)

⚜️youngknightnight Follow

Sorry guys for being inactive for so long,,

I was having family issues,,

basically I'm a sword knight about to promote and I wanna be able to use bow upon promotion but my fucking parents keep insisting on axes but I don't wanna use axes!

They keep saying that "axes are sooooo much better than bows" "we encounter so many lance users, why don't you want that advantage?" or "bows only works at two range, why do you want to be defenseless at one range?" bro stfu let me live! I just wanna use bows OKAY?!

Sorry everyone its just been a lot.

#elitists dni #or I will cut you

(39 notes)

🌠thracianstar Follow

found this weird looking lance an enemy dropped while on my trip in Fodlan.

Gonna try an use it in the next battle!

🎏h-o-l-l-o-w-v-e-s-s-a-l Follow

uhhhh op? I don't recommend using that lance unless you have a crest but your post implies you're not from Fodlan soo uh

don't fucking use it if you wanna live

🐟fishphish Follow

op? op are you there? OP??

🦴️armorcrusher Follow

OP?!?!? OP!!!!!!!!!????? ANSWER US OP!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(437 notes)

🥩singingnmeat Follow

this is the best thing in the world on divine dragon

❤️️crimsonrider Follow

#this is something my wyvern would say if he could talk #anyways #back to hating on my brother

(391 notes)

💚blueplusyellowunit Follow

I found this blueish-white wyvern near Crimea but it wouldn't let me ride it!

It started to thrash around, I had to stop when it started breathing fire

ik you just can't tame a wild wyvern without a lot of time, but the wyvern looked so pretty😭😭😭😭

💭dragon-ggilf Follow

WAIT WAS THAT YOU WHO TRIED TO RIDE ME?!?!?

YOU ALMOST RIPPED OUT ONE OF MY HORNS WHILE TRYING MOUNT ME!!!!

ASSHOLE!!!!

💚blueplusyellowunit Follow

OH SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOURE NOT A WYVERN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry

(2,330 notes)

😉sranks Follow

I tried to use his lance but my rank was D

😉sranks Follow

easy website

(24,998 notes)

🏋️‍♂️chop-official Follow

gonna use the devil axe,

wish me luck!

🏋️‍♂️chop-official Follow

I'm liking my odds!!

🏋️‍♂️chop-official Follow

cleic

(492 notes)

👺foxythings Follow

Swords are the worst weapon type in my kitsune opinion

🗡theawesomemerc Follow

kys

#you dont even use weapons wtf #how tf should you know

(97 notes)

[gaysindistress]

Allies or Enemies - three

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

pairings: Dragonborn!bucky x f!reader

Summary: The reality of her cruel world is more evident than ever before when her stepfather sends her to her death under the guise of diplomacy. Y/n, the expendable daughter of a scared king, must find a way to secure her own protection among the Dragonborn and she will do that by whatever means necessary.

Warnings: nothing

Word count: 3.8k

Author’s note: there are two povs here and I didn’t add who’s they were on purpose *cue evil laughter*

Ari-Hengot means ‘my leader’ in Draconic (based on the very unhelpful google search I did so if it’s wrong it’s not my fault)

series masterlist | two

taglist: @blackbirdwitch22 @alyeskathewave @learisa @screechingfangirlaf @oh-gods-its-a-dragon @globetrotter28 @mostlymarvelgirl l @salvatoreitmeanssaviour

The words spoken by the sick and ignorant spread like wildfires; drawing close to any unattended wilting blade of grass and engulfing the field in a raging blaze within minutes. What happens now is a question on the lips of every poor farmer as they watch their life’s work burn to nothing but ash and broken spirits. No amount of water and tender hope can rebuild the life that’s been destroyed in seconds. 

Much is the same with the towns where the cowardly king’s words are as revered as their holy books. 

 “Where is she?”

A woman stared off into the distance, looking through the thick trees and towards the small village where the girl lived. The man who had spoken off to her side huffs at her silence, growing impatient with her and the cold wind that sends another shiver down their spines. 

“In a small cabin towards the back of the village, the furthest side from us,” she finally answers his question as she looks back at him, her violently red eyes blinking rapidly in adjustment. 

He tries not to flinch at the unnatural glow of her eyes but fails miserably as he speaks, “Is there anyone with her?”

It’s her turn to huff, “You couldn’t have asked me that when I was looking?” “Well I never said to look away. You did that on your own accord.”

Rolling her eyes, she looks back towards the village. 

“It looks like there are two men next to the door but that’s all I can see. We need to get closer if you want me to see more.”

“Of course, I need you to see more than that.” 

The woman narrows her eyes at him and he looks between her and the cabin. 

“You have a horse or legs if you feel inclined to actually do any work,” he gestures to both items and then points towards the village, “Get to it.”

“Haha very funny,” she sarcastically laughs, yanking her horse’s reins to the side and leading it away from her male companion. 

“Wanda,” he calls after her, his horse not trailing far behind hers. 

“No, you absolute ass. You dragged me to this cold barren, disgusting, foul…”

He cuts her off, “Wanda.” “No, do not interrupt me,” her head whips toward him, her headscarf slipping down to reveal a wave of red hair as she rips into him with her words, “You dragged me here, teased me like I’m a commoner, and then demanded things from me while still expecting me to cooperate. You’re dumber than a donkey if you think that I’m going to walk or force my horse to do so in the snow just to see a few more feet than I did before. I'm not doing it. Work with what I gave you or go scout it yourself!”

When she is done and can see past her rage, all she sees is his stupid smirk and she kicks her horse, demanding to be taken far away from his smug attitude. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mumbles under his breath and takes off after her. 

Wanda, the red eyed and haired woman, dismounts her horse the moment she reaches their base camp and passes off the reins to a lowly soldier who grumbles at the leather that falls into his lap. Marching straight through the small camp of seven tents, she pushes aside the heavy red fabric that make up the center tent and storms in without a care in the world. 

“If you ever put me with Samuel again, I will send a wind storm into your tent and rip you from your bed the moment before you finish with a woman,” Wanda sneers at me. 

I glance up at her with a ghost of a smirk before looking back at the papers and writing something on a map that is nestled on top. 

“Excuse me,” she demands as she marches to the table, “Did you hear what I said?” “I did,” I answered without looking at her and looking at his maps. 

“Are you going to say anything?”

I don’t respond as I continue to write and draw on the map, charting out our journey home. 

“Wanda, I was joking,” her riding companion and my second in command, Samuel, calls after her as he pushes into the tent, taking note of her irritated state and my unbothered one. 

“Get out,” she nearly barks at him, pointing at the entrance as her red eyes flare and a breeze sweeps in, “now.”

Samuel shakes his head at her, ignoring her as he walks over to the table and brushing past her as he does so. She physically recoils, causing her headscarf to fully fall and scoffs at the brazen touch. She looks wild with her dirty hair spilling out around her and her sanguine eyes narrowing at him.

“Ari-Hengot,” Samuel starts, “I asked her to tell me if anyone was in the house with the girl and all she gave me was two men but wasn’t able to see anyone else. Is it really so wrong of me to suggest she gets closer if that’s what she needs to be able to see more? I feel like that’s pretty reasonable.”

“You told me that I had legs and that I could walk. In the snow.” 

The two start to argue like children in front of me, causing me to drop my quail back into the inkwell and straighten myself to my full height while I clear my throat to get their attention. 

“Wanda, Samuel,” I warn, his voice low and commanding before looking at Wanda, “Can we move tonight or do we need to wait?”

“Yes, it looks like there’s only one person with her at all times. We should move tonight before they start to notice someone’s been watching them. It’s only a matter of time before they see a group of brightly colored tents close by,” Wanda snipes as she stuffs her hair back into her headscarf and pulls her thick red coat around her tighter.

I nod  in approval of her answer regardless of her sass. I’ve never cared if she lashed out on me, disrespected me the way a soldier should never do to their captain however she wasn’t really mine to wield nor could she control me. Regardless of our dynamic lieutenant and captain, We have a long standing agreement to never use their status or titles against each other. Being the daughter of a well respected human ally to the Dragonborn and a newly appointed lieutenant, Wanda was known to have a tongue that could cut like the cold winter wind and soothe the wounds when she wanted. I had learned very quickly to stay in her good graces to protect myself from her wrath and she, in turn, protected me from the crushing weight our leaders gave me. 

“That’s not what you said earlier,” Samuel argues, growing angry that I would so casually accept her appraisal of the situation without a second thought. Him and I may have known each other for several years longer, it is still Wanda that has made any headway in our mission. 

“You didn’t ask what I thought. You assumed that because I could only see to the girl that I would say no but,” she turns back to me, “we should make our move now. We only have the snow storm for a few more days and after that, we won’t have cover anymore.”

“Samuel, you may leave now.”

He makes a noise of annoyance about how Wanda’s word always outweighs his but leaves nonetheless. Both of us will soon hear how wounded his ego is but for now it’s not our concern. 

“And your visions?” I ask once I’m sure that Samuel is gone and no longer in earshot. 

Wanda flinches but shakes it off as she occupies her hands and mind with a thread on her coat, “It has to be tonight and soon or we lose hope of getting her altogether.” Getting the confirmation that I need, I round the table and come to stand before her. Placing my large hands on my arms and pulling at them, I silently ask her to look at me. 

“You’ve done well,” I mummer to her, a smile wide on my normally frozen face. 

She wrinkles her nose at my praise but accepts it nonetheless. Peeking under my arm she spots the map that I’d been working on. Fear and anger rise up in her as she looks over what lies behind us. 

The map is of our lands, stretching as far south as the Unsea and as far north as York. The tiny village that we are encamped by sits in the northernmost mountains of York, placing us deep within enemy territory. 

A dotted line marks a route back to Devora and she gasps at where the route has to cross through. 

“Are you trying to get us killed?” she almost shrieks as she pushes under my arms and points at my handiwork which does mark a path through certain death. 

“He’s been found in their capital, ” I state as I join her at the table’s edge. 

“Well then congrats to the Coward King,” she scoffs, “but what business do we have going through there?”

I look at her like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “We’re going to get him on our way back.” “No we are not.”

“And why not?” “It’s…” she pauses, searching for a valid reason to avoid the capital city of York, Brookshire, “your personal vendetta against him is not a reason to risk all of our lives. We will be killed as soon as we are within sight of their walls. 

“I’m sure we can devise a way to get in,” I tell her while I start to cover the map, “and it is not a matter of my personal issue with their king. It is a matter of political correction.” 

“Political correction? Have you been taking lessons with Stephanos?” 

I offer her a small smirk instead of words as I rub at the spikes on my jawline, my scales reflecting the fire’s blaze at Wanda. 

“I shall ask again; are you trying to get us all killed?” 

I don’t drop my smirk but add to it with a shrug,“Isn’t that how all great military leaders die? In search of a great treasure for their people? ” 

Wanda scoffs at her captain’s undesirable need to prove that I am the best, “We are not treasures. We are people no matter what they say.”

“Ah but you Wanda are the greatest treasure that this world has to offer,” I tell her while I grip her shoulders. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me, you know that,” she sighs. A shiver passes through her and it’s then that I am reminded of how…fragile humans are. York is not a warm place; both in manners and climate but here in their mountain range it is far colder than anything that Wanda would’ve experienced before. Her entire body shakes when the wind brushes through the tents and pushes her way to the front when there is a fire. Some of the others have taken to giving her warm clothing or fabric they find when we pass a village. A few times she’s come to my room at night and wordlessly crawled in, hoping that she would find a pocket of warmth in the thick blankets I collect. 

Outside of the tent, I hear Sameul shouting at the others, demanding they be ready within the hour. Footsteps crunch in the snow and horses protest against the cold beneath their feet. This new country is nothing like any of our homelands and it proves to be a worthy adversary as many of us fail to conquer or even assimilate to its conditions. During our nearly year-long expedition, we’ve lost nearly half of our party and things do not look to be any better if we can’t get to her. Soon. 

“Praised be the Sfant!”

An elderly woman cries as she shuffles her dying husband out of the small cabin. A hovel really is a better term for the bare shelter that I’m being housed in held captive in. With only two rooms, one being a tiny bedroom and the other the main living quarters, I have little room to practice my ‘gifts’. Although my guards, my captors truly, have clasped thick cuffs wrists to prevent me from leaving. The first time I attempted to run, a thin red string had connected me to my guards and led them directly to me. 

I learned to ignore my desperation for freedom rather quickly afterwards. 

I try to smile at the woman and allow my body to slump when she is gone. The ache in my bones has not gone away since I woke up in that freezing tower room. Pepper, all too gleeful, explained to me that immediately following my fainting spell, the guards on Anthony’s command attacked the Dragonborn and ‘rescued’ me from the ‘bastardly demons’.  My mother had been lost in the battle but Anthony miraculously survived and managed to use her death as yet another example of Dragonborn violence towards York. It became clear with the more I was told that it wasn’t a Dragonborn sword that killed her, it had been a human one. 

I’ve grown to believe that it was Anthony’s however I have nothing but hatred and vengeance to support my claim. 

Two men, tall, pale, and unnerving, are slumped in the two chairs that were left in the cabin. The taller one, a man with cropped golden blonde hair and a beard to match, is watching her intently with light eyes that unnerve me when I meet them. The other is a dark haired man with similarly cropped hair and facial hair is picking at his fingernails with a knife. 

Jonathan, the blonde, stands and places a table in front of the door as an alarm if anyone were to attempt to break in. He tosses a piece of bread to Brock, the dark haired one who gestures towards one of the rooms with the bread as he speaks to me, “Time for bed.”

I can’t help when my eyes roll on their own at his request and instead I decide to clean the altar around me instead. Candles, herbs, and jewelry as well as a book lay around my kneeling body, artifacts from the ineffective ritual I’d just performed. The woman had begged Jonathan and Brock for days to let her husband be seen by me but the two men merely waved her off in hopes that a person with a bigger purse would come by. Finally after sitting at the doorstep day after day, I took pity on her and allowed her in before the assholes could say a thing. 

Her husband had been poisoned, the woman claimed as she wiped at his sweaty brow and held him. One look at the black veins that crawled up his neck and were threatening to overtake his face let me know enough; the man had been poisoned but there would be no way for her to heal him. I could only offer remedies to ease his pain and end his life swiftly in his sleep. Dabbing oil on his temples, lips, and behind the ears would ensure that his death would come before the woman even made it to her own hovel. 

“Y/N, now,” Brock snaps sternly, his dark eyes beginning to rage at my brazen actions. 

I quickly turn my head, the chains and strings of gems that hang from my diadem swinging as I do so, “I’ll go when I’m finished cleaning.”

His eyes flash for a moment before he stalks over to me and rips me up by my arm. He knocks over countless expensive remedies and breaks what he didn’t spill in the process but he shows no concern for it all, not that he ever did. His grip on my arm is bruising and steel- like so I can’t tear myself free. Again my jewelry and other adornments clang together in a painful symphony as I’m dragged across the room; a stark reminder that I am nothing but a living doll to these people and to Anthony. 

“You do as I say and quickly,” he grinds out through clenched teeth before slamming the door on me, leaving me in the dark and alone. 

I let out a frustrated cry as I tear the undoubtedly priceless jewelry from my body and hair. Letting it clatter to the ground, I resist the urge to break it any further by stomping it or picking it back up to throw again. I’m left in my cuffs and thick layers of robes and dresses I’m forced to wear to look the part of their saint, the Sfant of the Great Rebirth. The heavy fabric becomes suffocating and I tear them off next, shedding the black robes that were embroidered in white and gold before nearly breaking off the buttons to the outer black gown. Similar to the robe, it too is embroidered with white and gold threads but within lays the signature blue of York. A part of me is tempted to burst out of the room in my chemise and throw the foul articles of clothing into the fire but I know I would not be fast enough. The foul men outside would hear my movements before I even made them and would stop me. 

Instead, surrounded by the fineries of my captors, I crumple to the floor and cry into my hands. I cry for the people that I cannot save, the people that have died to protect me, for the people that I will inevitably fail, and for the girl that died that night. I cry for the life that I once had where I was insignificant, for the life that was stolen from me when I was bound to the Dragonborn, and for the life that I am forced to live now. I cry harder as the pendant against my sternum weeps and pulses wildly, screaming out to its other half to no avail. The pain and sadness that lives instead of its milky heart has never faded in the year since it was given to me. For an entire year I have felt my very soul being torn in a thousand directions and yearn for the one they all lead to. 

 I hear the scuffling boots of the men outside my door, no doubt muttering to themselves about how pathetic I am and I wipe at my nose with the back of my sleeve. I get to my feet and gather the reminders of my imprisonment before Jonathan opens the door. Ever the quiet and observing man, he narrows his eyes at me and then scans the room before shouldering in with Brock not far behind. It turns my stomach rotten at the idea of having to sleep in the same room as them but there is no alternative. The first week I had been with them, I tried to escape only to be met with a heaving Jonathan clad in only his pants on the other side of the window. Ever since then, he’s slept under the window and Brock slept in front of the door, leaving me with no way out. 

Brock smirks at my state, puffy eyed and barely dressed, and goes to make a filthy comment but Jonathan shoots him a stern glare and the comments stay in his mouth. I should have thanked him for his “protection” but is it really protection when he helped take my captive? 

Regardless of his part in my capture, I find myself drawn to him. He is the better looking of the two, tall and corded with muscles from years of training. When he enters a room, he has to duck to avoid hitting his head on the door frame. Since that night I had tried to escape, the sight of his broad muscular chest has not left my mind but I will it away. Instead I try to focus on the stubble of his short beard. Only a mask of stoic duty and harsh words live on his face but sometimes a small smile will take their place. I might have found myself peering at his full pink lips and then up to the pale blue eyes that hide beneath his lashes and thick brows. 

But this is not another life and now only malice lives in my heart for him. 

Jonathan jerks his head towards the small bed against the wall, silently telling me to climb into bed before Brock forces me to. Not wanting to suffer another bruising grip, I drop the items in my arms at the foot and climb in. I can feel him roll his eyes at my child-like behavior but he doesn’t say a word as he settles onto the cold floor beside me. Brock wishes us both a goodnight laced with something that makes my skin crawl as he too settles in. I quickly turn to face the wall and curl into a ball while my blood pounds in my ears. 

Sleep doesn’t find me nor does rest in any form no matter how long I lay there. It feels like hours have passed when I hear something. Beyond the fire crackling and the men’s breathing, I can barely make out the soft crunch of hoofs on snow. My breath catches in my chest as the sound gets louder and the pendant begins to grow warm, nearly vibrating in nervous excitement. I clasp my hand around it as I force my lungs to slow down and try to regain my nerves. The buzzing in my hand has to mean one thing and if I am correct, Brock and Jonathan stand no chance. 

A powerful stream of wind whips through the cabin and pins them to the ground, awakening them within seconds from the force. Instinctively I shoot up in bed and am met with the sight of a person covered head to toe in deep red cloth, leaving only their thin pale hands and unnatural red eyes to be seen. I’m so swept up in the stranger’s eyes that I fail to notice men pouring in around them. One thin pale hand removes the cloth covering her face to reveal a woman who’s beauty far outweighs any person that I've ever come across. 

A human woman stands before her. 

A human woman who commands Dragonborn Knights as if she’s one of them. 

The woman cocks her head as she looks over me on the bed and says something in Draconic to a familiar hulking Dragonborn knight beside her. Jonathan growls at their words and struggles against the red wind that keeps him pinned in place. 

With a smirk fitting for a snake, she says, “Hello Sfânt Y/N, we’ve come to take you home.”

[mizuki-nautilus]

The Dragon slayer - Malleus Draconia x Reader

So, I thought it would be fun to write a short fanfiction inspired by the popular joke about MC and Malleus having a relationship like Donkey and the Dragoness from Shrek. Of course, this fanfic does not have spoilers from Diasomnia Chapter and is more a parody of Shrek.

The long-awaited apocalyptic event has occurred in this magical realm. Malleus Draconia, the one and only, has finally overblotted, leaving the survival rate of the people living in this world near to 0%.

As the end drew near, all hope seemed lost. But amidst the chaos and the desperate attempts to calm the raging flames of Malleus, Ace's voice cut through the turmoil. "[Y/N]!!!!!! DO YOUR THING!!!" he cried out in desperation. Confused and scared, [Y/N] searched frantically for a safe place to take cover. "WHAT?! What do you mean?!!" she yelled back, barely audible over the roar of the flames. "DON’T ACT STUPID AND DO YOUR THING!!!!" Ace repeated, his voice shaking with urgency.

Despite [Y/N]'s attempts to feign ignorance, she was well aware of what Ace was referring to. She may have tried to act as if nothing was going on, but the truth was that a lot was happening between her and Malleus. Prior to the current catastrophic events, [Y/N] and Malleus had developed a close bond, one that could be described as somewhat cheesy. Though they weren't officially a couple, it was clear that they were for sure a few steps to become one.

And it's not that [Y/N] lacked the courage to flirt with the man of her dreams. Rather, it was the embarrassment of doing so in front of her closest friends. "Sorry, Ace! I didn't hear you!" [Y/N] lied, trying to play it cool. "OH MY GOD, [Y/N], JUST DO AS ACE SAID!!!!" Deuce desperately interjected into the conversation.

“Fuck!” [Y/N] cursed. Amidst the debris, broken pillars, thorn vines, and green flames, [Y/N] sprinted as close as possible towards Malleus, cursing under her breath. As she reached him, she stood before his intimidating frame and trembled before saying, "HEY! Tsunotarou!!!"

[Y/N] stood frozen in fear as his eyes bore into hers, his icy green gaze sending shivers down her spine. The room was enveloped by Malleus's intimidating presence, overshadowing everything and everyone. Tension hung heavy in the air, as he advanced towards her with measured steps that resounded ominously on the ground.

In a voice that seemed to rattle the very walls around them, Malleus spoke to her, his words dripping with anger and disdain, "Child of man…" [Y/N] stammered and stuttered, trying to find the right words to say. "Y-you… um… your teeth… they're… so big!" she blurted out, causing everyone else in the room to facepalm in unison, except for Malleus who remained stoic.

"I MEAN!! White sparkling teeth!!" [Y/N] tried to correct herself, her words stumbled, and her movements became awkward. She even tried to pose seductively, but it only added to the cringe-worthy moment. Grim, unable to believe how bad she was at this, muttered under his breath, "Oh my god, we really are going to die."

After pondering for a moment, [Y/N] spoke up again, "I bet you use some kind of powerful teeth whitening, because your smile is absolutely dazzling." [Y/N] tried to smile back, "And is that a hint of mint I detect? Your dental hygiene must be impeccable." As [Y/N]'s cringe-worthy compliments echoed through the room, everyone winced in discomfort. However, a glimmer of hope emerged as the green flames that had engulfed the college began to subside.

“You are undoubtedly the most HANDSOME dragon in this world,” [Y/N] boldly proclaimed, after that she followed it up with a painfully cringe-worthy joke, "You know if you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber." but even if words stumbled out of her mouth and caused the room to fall silent with secondhand embarrassment the thing seem to work out.

As they watched in amazement, Malleus's menacing expression softened into a tender and affectionate gaze, thanks to [Y/N]'s miraculously effective but cringe-worthy attempts at flirting. It was hard to believe that the unapproachable Malleus Draconia could be charmed by [Y/N]'s terrible flirting skills, but here we are.

Suddenly, Malleus spoke [Y/N]'s name tenderly and reached out to delicately touch her cheek. As his hand made contact, the thorn vines surrounding them began to bloom, filling the room with a lovely scent and enchanting sight of red roses. Some petals even seemed to float through the air, creating an otherworldly atmosphere.

As Malleus leaned in towards [Y/N], the shattered remains of the building suddenly began to repair themselves, piece by piece, until everything was restored to its former glory. The world around them faded into insignificance as their lips met, and at that moment, time stood still. The air was thick with the fragrance of roses, and petals danced around them like confetti. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the world snapped back into focus, and Malleus and [Y/N] were gone, leaving behind five opened-mouth people.

Ace began to speak, but was interrupted by Deuce who interjected with the words, "Yes, Ace. It happened," leaving Deuce himself perplexed. Ortho then chimed in, cutely stating that he had everything recorded on his built-in 4K camera, knowing that the cringe moment they had just witnessed could be of use to Idia some day. "That was like a scene from some underground visual novel. I never thought things like that actually happened in real life," said Idia, still dumbfounded.

And with that, our charming heroine was able to rescue this realm from its impending doom.

The End.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

More replies about recent stuff, plus some random twst stuff pluuuus a reply related to a Malleus sketch from our 🔑🔞twt <3 Thank you for your questions.

thestarlightfae asked:

...Do I want to know what Lilia has on his phone?

Somehow I doubt it… But he wouldn’t mind showing!

Anonymous asked:

Ryuichirou just to let you know your literally the reason why I download Tumblr and I'm so so glad I did so🙇🙇

Oh god Anon, I am very sorry for doing this to you LOL Thank you so much!!! <3 I am glad you’re enjoying it!

m1lk-n-cook1es asked:

Dragon Malleus has six limbs and is therefore an insect. Discuss

(idk if he has 4 limbs in the dragon body but oh well)

Does…that mean that a centaur would also be an insect? This is kind of troubling… 😟

I think this is something we could discuss for hours until Malleus appears and ends this discussion forever, looking offended af :(

Anonymous asked:

Ace and malleus won't be together because ace has no Rizz  and no skills. he would fumble malleus so hard he would end up with someone else twice over, who im not sure but definitely someone he has to see a lot

(related to a reply about Ace the donkey to Malleus’ dragon)

OUCH, Anon!! You’re roasting Ace more than Malleus would’ve roasted him while literally breathing fire 😭🔥

Give this boy a chance. That being said, we all know the chance is slim….

Anonymous asked:

about the mosquitoes bites ! If you put a burning hot metal spoon on it for a few seconds the heat will kill the itchiness ! Tested and approved every summers you should definitely do it 👍

My favourite part about posting that mosquito comic is people recommending remedies for the bites…!

Thank you, Anon. I’ll keep that in mind.

Anonymous asked:

Would the twst ppl ever go down of ppl of the opposite sex? Or is everyone just gay? Like Floyd on a female riddle or something

-english is not good with me

“Everyone is gay” is our default because we prefer gay ships, but we don’t really headcanon sexualities for characters. If we ever come up with a good story with Floyd and fem!Riddle, nothing would stop us from indulging in it 💪 There are some that are more difficult for me to see with the opposite sex than the others though.

Anonymous asked:

Do the doms give oral? Like will the dom suck the sub's dick at all or nah?

With you would oral sec be strictly a bottom's job?

It is a tendency in my art to only leave it for the bottoms because it is a personal preference. But I don’t think that all of our tops would be strictly against it on the same level.

I wrote some hcs quite a while ago, if you want a detailed answer about someone in particular! Although I think my bias is pretty obvious lol Sorry.

Anonymous asked:

Okay the post of Malleus laying an egg from a while ago on your locked twt has been driving me so up the walls I haven't even been able to find the words??? I was so gagged when I saw it????

Shota Malleus always feels like he's totally convinced he's mature enough to handle Lilia and anything else you throw at him (he isn't) and him dealing with something like that when he's definitely way too young and unprepared and being completely overwhelmed and scared by it is SO GOOD

I can imagine him calling out Lilia's name in such a broken way, half upset because he just went through something really painful and scary and he wants to be comforted by his caretaker, and half because he's so confused and he has no idea what he should do and he needs Lilia's guidance, when Lilia was the one who put him into that mess in the first place... I worry that Lilia is going to take one look at him and their egg and be like "guess it's scrambled eggs for breakfast!" to cover his own mistake before anyone finds out 😭

(And also...... I just think it's a little hot... Malleus pushing out an egg that's too big for his body all alone in his room with nobody to help him regulate his breathing and pushing?? He just has to figure it all out on his own because he can't/won't call for help??? Squeezing that egg out a little at a time and slowly stretching himself open, before it falls back inside him and he has to start all over again, basically fucking himself on it until he finally gets it out... 🥵)

I am SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT, ANON!! <3 I want to say that it was a very self-indulgent sketch, but then again, everything that we post is lol

Poor Malleus absolutely wasn’t ready for anything like that to happen and he definitely wasn’t told that this was something that could happen to a dragon fae… And Lilia was probably surprised too, looking at him like shoot that wasn’t supposed to happen yet, wtf, “dragon eggs are rare” my ass lol Lilia really fucked up his cycles…

I guess they really are going to have scrambled eggs for breakfast…! God we had so many conversations about Lilia and dragon eggs, I really should finish that one comic from ages ago.

(I’m also glad you find this hot as well~ If definitely would’ve been much easier for him if Lilia was around when that was happening, poor thing probably thought he was dying or something. He often feels alone, but when that happened, he felt especially alone and helpless. It’s honestly a miracle he wasn’t mad at Lilia afterwards, but I guess it’s because he was way too shocked for that)

[stabby-apologist]

I never thought I’d relate to Donkey so much until I watched the Desolation of Smaug.

Because OH MY GOD. The way he moved and sounded DID something to me the whole time. Because OOF.

🥵🥵 on god

Like Daddy and then the liquid gold bit, like SIR

And every time he flametorched anything, oh sweet heavens—

But THE VOICE. Benedict Cumberbatch, stg…

Knowing he did all the movements and the growls and EVERYTHING about this sexy dragon. Like…mark me down as scared and horny.

[egostrawberry]

Opinions on the new Nintendo direct

Mario & Luigi Brothership: this looks cute as FUCK. I loved Mario & Luigi Dream Team so I already know this is gonna be a banger

Nintendo World Championships (NES edition): I like when Nintendo acknowledges the speedrun community and I will be trying this even though I suck at video games

FAIRY TAIL 2: Generic anime game #1

FANTASIAN Neo Dimension: Generic anime game #2

Nintendo switch sports (new sport): This looks like ass! I’d rather have Wii sports resort please

MIO Memories in Orbit: Yup that sure is a game. Looks cool ig

Disney Illusion Island: Yup that sure is a Disney game

Hello Kitty Island Adventure: IM PLAYIN HELLO KITTY ISLAND ADVENTURE

Looney Toons Wacky World of Sports: Space Jam already sucked ass but at least it was nostalgic. Now it just sucks LMAO

Among Us:

Farmagia: Generic anime game #3

Donkey Kong Country returns HD: OH HELL YEAH I used to play this on my 3DS

Dragon Quest III HD-2D Remake: I think I heard my dad talk about this game once

Funko Fusion: Thanks, I hate it! Absolutely nauseating!

Luigi’s Masion 2 HD: FUCK YEHA BABY DARK MOON’S BACK IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS FOR SO LONG YEEESSSSSSS

THE NEW DENPA MEN: the fuck is a denpa man. Kinda cute ig

METAL SLUG ATTACK RELOADED: I think I heard my dad talk about this game once

Darkest Dungeon II: huh?

Nintendo Switch Online + Expansion Pack: Sorry what? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of me pirating your games

Phantom Brave The Lost Hero: Generic anime game #4

Marvel vs Capcom fighting collection arcade classics: Eat my ass Marvel capcom W

Super Mario Party Jamboree: I love Mario party games! They tear relationships apart! This looks fun. I like the word “jamboree” that’s a fun word

The Legend of Zelda Echoes of Wisdom: ZELDA PROTAGONIST GAME?!? UM YES???!!???!!??!?!?!? The gameplay in this looks hella fun

Just Dance 2025 Edition: I’ll only be buying this ONLY if they put hatsune miku in there

LEGO Horizon Adventures: Yup that’s a LEGO game. Horizon is pretty cool tho I watched my buddy @web-creep play it

Stray: Kitty! :3 I already have this game on PlayStation sooooooo

Tales of the Shire a lord of the rings game: Don’t care didn’t ask + gollum

Ace Attorney Investigations Collection: Oh my god I finally get to experience the AA game where Edgeworth won’t stfu about chess I’m so excited /gen

The Hundred Line Last Defense Academy: Generic anime game #5 + I dont like danganronpa (I probably spelled that wrong (I do not care))

Romancing SaGa 2 revenge of the seven: Generic anime game #6

Metroid Prime 4 Beyond: Hey that’s my mom! Samus is my mom you guys. I hope Snapcube sees this.

Conclusion? I’m very excited for Dark Moon HD remake and that’s basically it :)

[callie-flower]

surprised nobody has made a legitimate Thing for it but shrek can fit hauntingly well with frenrey. somebody help me because i keep watching movies and being like haha frenrey au haha frenrey au haha frenrey au and oh my god . girl . category 7 autism event in my brain right now about them

anyways i am also surprised from what ive seen that nobody has ever cast benrey as fiona considering the whole fandom-wide "can shapeshift into an eldritch beast" headcanon i just thought about that ending sequence in the movie and just. like. oh my god dont fucking touch me like "i thought i was supposed to be human beautiful" "but you are beautiful" its all RIGHT THERE . also initially thought of tommy donkey but bubby would be the dragon so to Me Personally . i think coomer should be donkey instead. it can still kind of work. bubby just has huge dragon vibes idk i think that its sex as fuck

but . that still also leaves empty spaces for tommy and sunkist and darnold and (pounds my fists against the fucking desk) THEY WOULD WORK GREAT IN THE OTHER MOVIES aside from the first... theres no room for them there and its homophobic as fuck

[tyrannuspitch]

been thinking about worldbuilding and. oh my god guys. i know it's a throwaway joss whedon line, but even so... i think bilgesnipe might be jotun wildlife, not asgardian.

what do we know about bilgesnipe?

they have an insulting-sounding name, which at first glance inspection doesn't make much sense. normally, a "snipe" is a small game bird. this could just be a sort of joke, like a tall man nicknamed "tiny", but it could also imply that asgardians see these creatures primarily as things to shoot at. (fun fact: the word "sniper" actually comes from the amount of skill it takes to shoot snipe! bilgesnipe definitely aren't small targets, but they might still be hard to take down.)

meanwhile, "bilge" means the bottom of a ship, and the water that gathers inside it. this might imply that these creature live somewhere dirty... or that they tend to try to sink ships? (let's also remember that asgardian ships often travel the air, not the sea.)

thor summarises bilgesnipe as: "huge, scaly, big antlers". this doesn't precisely match the jotun creature we see in t1 (which i've taken to calling a dragon, for lack of other terms), but it's close. that creature is the size of a whale, with hairless, leathery blue skin and spines down its back - which could easily lead to the misconception that it was scaly. between this creature and the jotuns themselves, massive size and tough skin seem like they might be typical traits of species from jotunheim.

thor calls bilgesnipe destructive and repulsive, and uses them as an example of "uncivilised" behaviour. this reflects asgardian attitudes towards the jotun people, but it's an unusual level of animosity to hold towards an animal - especially considering that aggressive megafauna, even "exotic" ones, are often valorised by hyper-military cultures (all those european coats of arms with lions and tigers...), unless they're frequently in direct opposition.

so what is this opposition? IRL the mediaeval norse has an ambivalent relationship to wolves, because wolves preyed on their livestock. but bilgesnipes have antlers, which, at least on earth, are a herbivore trait. deer/etc can be aggressive when competing for mates or defending their young, but the danger is simple enough to avoid if you just stay out of their way. they're rarely seen as monsters for it...

but large herbivores are very often domesticated as beasts of burden - horses, donkeys, llamas, camels, elephants, and in the arctic, reindeer. and, depending on social context and the hardiness of the animals themselves, some of these beasts of burden go on to be used in warfare.

we already know that jotuns have domesticated large carnivores for military use (or maybe, originally, hunting) - specifically, they run down enemy foot-soldiers like prey on command. it's not a stretch to say there might be other species jotuns use for other military purposes.

SO. specifically. i think bilgesnipe could be giant jotun war-deer, trained to rake and crash low-flying enemy ships ("bilge"-snipe), and to stampede enemy armies ("destroy everything in their path".)

of course, the phrase (idiom?) "battling like bilgesnipe" itself could very easily refer to some natural phenomenon like rutting stags, as a metaphor for hypermasculine competitiveness, rather than anything about the animals in a real military context... but the way thor describes these creatures and the extreme negative attitude he takes to them still feel like something more to me. (and it's just more fun that way.)

(and finally, since it didn't flow above: thor assumes that midgard has, or at least knows about, bilgesnipe. and yes, this could be read as implying they're a completely everyday animal to thor, and therefore asgardian - but i would argue it could also go the other way: they're an exotic-but-familiar creature to him, like lions to a european, and he's carelessly conflating his "lesser realms", like a european thinking lions live in "the jungle".)

[gmanwhore]

what friend do. They forgive each other! Oh, yeah. You're right Donkey. I forgive you for stabbing me in the back! You're so wrapped up in layers, onion boy. You're afraid of your own feelings. -Go away. -See? There you are, doing it again. Just like you did it to Fiona. And all she ever do, was like you. Maybe even love you. Love me? She said I was ugly! A hideous creature. -I heard that you two were talking. -She wasn't talking about you. She was talking about... ...somebody else. She wasn't talking about me? Well then, who was she talking about? No way, I'm not saying anything. You won't listen to me, right? Right? -Donkey. -No! Ok, look. I'm sorry, all right? I'm sorry. I guess I am just a big stupid, ugly Ogre. Can you forgive me? -Hey, that's the friends are for, right? -Right. -Friends? -Friends. So? What did Fiona said about me? Why are you asking me for? Why don't you just go ask her. The wedding! We'll never make it in time! Never fear! For where there is a will, there is a way. And I have I way. Donkey? -I guess this is just my act of magnetism. -Oh, come here, you. All right. All right. Don't get all started. No one likes kissass. All right, hop on. Hold on tight. I hadn't have a chance to install seat belts, yet. People of Duloc. We gather here today to bear witness to reunion of our new king... Excuse me. Could you just skip ahead to "I do's"? Go on. Go ahead and have some fun, if we need you, I'll whistle. How about that? Shrek, wait, wait a minute. You want to do this right, don't you? -What are you talking about? -It's the line, it's the line you got to wait for. The priest is going to say: "Speak now or forever hold your peace". And that's where you say: "I object". -I don't have time for this. -Wait, wait. What are you doing? Listen to me! Look, you love this woman, don't you? -Yes. -You want to hold her! -Yes. -Please her! -Yes! Then you got to, got to try a little tender love. -The chicks love that romantic crap. -All right. Cut it out. When does this guy say the line? We got to check it out. And as so by the power of these two... What do you see? -I now pronounce you... -There they go! -...he all ready said it. -Oh, for 'the love of pit'. I object! Shrek? Oh, now what does he want? Hi, everyone. Having a good time, aren't you? I love Duloc, first of all. Very clean. -What are you doing here? -Really, it's rude enough being alive, when no one wants you. But showing up uninvited to a wedding... -Fiona! I need to talk to you. -Oh, now you wanna talk? Well it's a little late for that. So if you'll excuse me. -But you can't marry him! -And why not? Because, because he's just marrying you so he can be king. -Outrageous! Fiona, don't listen to him. -He's not your true love. -What do you know about true love? -Well, I ...I'm in... Oh, this is precious. The Ogre has fallen in love with the princess. Laugh. Shrek. Is this true? Who cares. It's preposterious. Fiona, my love, we gonna kiss away for our happily ever after. Now kiss me! By night one way, by day another. I wanted to show you before. Well. That explains a lot. Oh. It's disgusting. Guards, guards. I order you to get them out of my sight. -Now! Get them! Get them, both! -No! This marriage is minding, and that makes me king. See? See? -Shrek! -No. -Don't just stand there, you dogs. -Get out of my way. No! Shrek! -And as for you my wife. -Fiona! I'll have you locked back in that tower for the rest of your days! I will have order. I will have potential. I will have... All right, nobody move! I got a dragon here and I'm not afraid to use it. I'm a donkey on the edge! Celebrity marriages. They never last, do they? Go ahead Shrek. -Fiona? -Yes, Shrek? I love you. Really? Really, really. I love you too. A time for true love's first kiss... Fiona? Fiona? Are you all right? Yes. But I don't understand. I'm supposed to be beautiful. But you are beautiful. I was hoping this would be a happy ending. God bless us, everyone.

What in the fresh hell

[jamalgripperton46290]

The Sharpest Tool In The Shed (Shrek x Lord Farquaad)

Jamal Gripperton's Masterlist

A/N

A/N- Lord Farquaad is alive 4 da sake of the plot m'kay?

��••

Ever since the banishing of Lord Farquaad from his kingdom, the only thing on his mind was none other than the infamous: Shrek, and a feeling of utmost regret and remorse. Regret and remorse of course, due to the way he once treated the fellow ogre. Since he couldn't just forgive and forget, he decided to pluck up his remaining courage to send him an invite to a South African Jungle Safari.

(On him of course)

**Fast forward to 2 days later**

Shrek soon receives the letter and is confused, due to the obvious fact that when they last had met, Farquaad had shown signs of hatred and resentment towards Shrek himself. Nonetheless, he accepted, as curiosity got the best of him. He sent his reply and waited.

**Fast forward another 2 days later**

Lord Farquaad got the letter and was ecstatic! He hopped on the next plane to South Africa, and met Shrek there. 

Midway through the trip, Lord Farquaad starts to unveil lost feelings for Shrek, he hadn't known he still had, but quite to his demise, Shrek was taken, he had a life, a wife, and kids along those lines as well (Three, to be precise). But that didn't stop his heart from accelerating at the very thought of his boo: Shrek. Soon enough, the plane landed.

**Fast forward to the reunion with Shrek**

Both Shrek and Lord Farquaad exchanged knowing glances and greetings as they left the airport. And wow, just wow, Lord Farquaad didn't know Shrek had changed all that much to when the last time they had seen each other, and well, to put it simply: He was a hella chunk of a hottie 🥵

Lord Farquaad couldn't help but notice how spectacularly refined his muscles and jaw looked under the blazing, glistening, South African sun and how much taller and stronger he appeared, he would be lying if he said that that didn't do something to his friend downstairs. (;

Midway through the exploration of the unique safari, Farquaad's thoughts were fixated on the refined hunkay chunkay fellow who stood beside him.

"Nice place they got here huh?" Shrek playfully nudged Farquaad's elbow.

"Y-yeah! It's real nice..." Farquaad trailed off, as his eyes were set on the gorgeously sculpted brown orbs, that were in reality, Shrek's eyes.

"You okay there?" Shrek wondered, as he noticed Farquaad's mind wandering to some places hidden deep within the depth of his eyes.

"O-oh yeah! Totally, like super alright" Farquaad babbled, forcing his eyes to fixate somewhere other than Shrek's breathtaking appearance.

"Okayyy? Let's skip the small talk here, how have you been? What's up with life? I wanna know everything from where we last left off" Shrek chuckled, while giving Farquaad a sincere smile that had enough power to just about kill him.

Farquaad couldn't help but blush a scarlet red amongst his pale cheeks while his eyes locked with his one and only true love: Shrek

"Well, where do I start? After they banished me from Duloc, I simply got out there and started working a pretty stable job, it doesn't pay much, but it's enough to get me through the basics. I live in an okay-sized apartment in the borders of La La Land, life's looking up I guess"

"That's a pretty great thing you got there Farquaad" Shrek smiled.

"What about you?" Farquaad asked his green boo.

"Well I suppose all is pretty good as well, I got Fiona at home, and Fergus, Farkle and Felicia just turned four about a month ago, and Donkey's not so bad at this whole 'Dad thing' I guess, he's got his flaws, sure, but he's actually on the right track also dragon's putting up quite wel-" 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

In a split second Shrek was on the floor, pain pulsing through his veins. He had just got bitten by a venomous snake on his one-of-a-kind thick, green, sausage.

"OH MY GOD SHREK ARE YOU OKAY? I'LL CALL AN AMBULANCE!" Lord Farquaad was panicking he couldn't lose him, he just couldn't, the guilt of Shrek dying here and being alone without his wife and kids, he would never see his godly face ever again, the thought was already clawing at him from the inside.

"I read an article, that you can stop poison from spreading as fast by sucking on the bite" Shrek managed to choke out.

"So what? You want me to suck your icky-sticky meat stick?!" Lord Farquaad couldn't even believe he was awake, was he dreaming?

"Yes goddamnit yes! I like you and this could save my life and fulfill my fantasy" Shrek proclaimed.

Farquaads heart skipped 8 beats. Did they both have the same thoughts and desires for the past 3 years? And felt the same way about each other? Now he really must have been dreaming.

"Ever since I laid my eyes on you, my eyes have never been blessed with anyone else, you are my light and what pushes me to live everyday, even if it didn't seem that way 3 years ago and I truly apologize for that, I desire you Shrek" Farquaad awkwardly confessed with a chuckle.

"Wow... I never knew that, well there's no more time to waste babe, get to it farky-kins" Shrek commented slyly.

Farquaad got to work. Shrek was now pant-less his hard length pushing through the thin fabric of his boxers. He slid those off too and WOW huge isn't even in comparison to his MAGNUM DONG. Farquaad made eye contact as he slowly licked off the dripping pre-cum from the tip of his dong while Shrek was squirming and groaning under his touch.

In a split second, he went all in swallowing him whole, swirling in his eyes fiddling with his balls. Bobbing his head up and down. Licking, sucking, kissing his super magnum green dong. Moans and groans erupting from Shrek every few seconds (they sounded like heaven).

Soon enough, after Shrek finishing multiple times, the ambulance finally arrived. Shrek's swelling was already down and didn't hurt that much anymore. (They still went to the hospital tho) The sexual tension in the ambulance as they drove grew and grew until Shrek couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Come here Farky and hop on" Shrek said as he eyed Farky up and down and round and round.

Farquaad eagerly took off his pants and boxers and sat on his dingle dangle and it felt euphoric. He bounced up and down his ass clapping against Shrek's muscular thighs. Farquaad was convinced he was in heaven, there couldn't be anything in the world that felt better than him bouncing on Shrek.

Soon later, Shrek flipped them over and he was slamming into Farquaad with full force. He could feel his eyes rolling to the back of his head. The ambulance was probs shaking at this point.

"I told you, I'm an all-star far-far" Shrek moaned seductively.

"OH FUCK SHRECKYYYY!!" Farquaad screamed, a pool of white underneath them.

Then the ambulance stopped, they arrived to the hospital and turns out that Shrek was okay. That article really helped.

•••

A/N 

Word count: 1220 words

We personally think this is pretty good considering this was our first time writing smth together. This was also the idea that started this book so yaaa pretty cool so it defo needed to be the 1st chapter. What do y'all think of the first chapter ma dudes? Hope u guys stick around and read the rest of these chapters. BAAAIIIIII!!!!

[uncaught-coolfish]

for the fandom meme, drakengard/nier!

OK. time to go full ADHD

Drakengard/NieR series spoilers below:

favorite female character: Devola from NieR:Gestalt/NieR:Replicant! Firstly, I love redheads, she’s a redhead, and as much as I don’t like how they “prettified” many of the models in the remaster, she looks adorable. Secondly… I just love her personality. That spunky, carefree yet kind archetype is one I love and she is that to a T. Reading “The Red and the Black” novella, as tough as that was, really made me love her more than I already did. And she’s got a great design. Second place would probably be Manah from Drakengard 1, who is also probably my favorite character in all of the games. She is iconic.

Favorite male character? Caim. Caim Caim Caim. Also my favorite protagonist of the games. Even if in comparison to the other games’ protagonists he might not be as “deep”, he’s just… fun. Baby girl. And a monsterfucker. Don’t forget that. Plus, he got the best cutscene in all of the games in Drakengard 2. Holy shit. Secondly would be Emil, given he’s been my profile picture. Emil is the sweetest little guy and I would take him to a Dairy Queen.

Favorite Book/Season/Etc(in this case, game IG): Tie between NieR 2010 and Drakengard 1. NieR 2010 is my favorite game of all time, while Drakengard 1 is my favorite of the 5 Drakenier games EASILY. I’d give an explanation, but I’d need like five other posts to do that :P

Favorite Episode(in this case, a cutscene): THE FUCKING CUTSCENE IN DRAKENGARD 2 WHERE CAIM APPEARS OH MY FUCKING GOD. LITERALLY PEAK. IDC IF YOU ADORE DRAKENGARD 2 OR THINK ITS DOGSHIT IT IS CANONICAL IN MY HEART. THE WAY HE SUDDENLY APPEARS BEHIND THOSE KNIGHTS. THE SOUND EFFECTS WHEN HE STOMPS HIS FOOT AND OH MY GOOOOODDD THE SOUND DESIGN ON HIS SWORD??? THE FUCKING SOUND OF THAT???? HOOOOOOOOO

AND THE SHOT OF ALL THIS BLOOD GOING EVERYWHERE FROM WHEN HE KILLS THE KNIGHTS AND MANAH IS JUST STARING AT HIM…. -^]*]*\€]*\€|*]£]+\€|€]]<|£€|!|]>]€ it’s so good so good and the music they used was also amazing. Runner up is undeniably Kaine’s rant in NieR 2010. There is a fucking reason it opens Gestalt. Don’t even play the game, just watch that cutscene (in English) and you will be hit with impeccable atmosphere and voice acting.

Favorite Cast Member: Laura Bailey!! Her as Kaine floors me every time. I’ll also give props to the guy who voiced 9S because my godddd that was a startling performance. And Yoko Taro himself, for feeding my ADHD his stupid little games.

Favorite ship? As much as I don’t like Drakengard 3 nor Zero herself… Zero x Accord has won my heart. That’s probably just because Accord is very Homura coded but that’s ok. And of course, Angelus and Caim. Fuck Romeo and Juliet, I want what they have. (Dragon and Donkey coded)

A character I’d die defending? Uhhh since pretty much all of these characters are sucky people and the fandom is chill with it… I guess Lady One? Idk lol.

A character I just can’t sympathize with? Zero oh my god!!! I don’t like her. Sorry guys, I don’t like the lady who makes r*** jokes towards the men she takes after killing her sisters, no matter what “good reason” she has for doing so.

A character I grew to love? …Arioch. Fucking… Arioch. She is a horrible disgusting person… but she’s funny about it. Also Jackass from NieR:Automata, I’d go fishing with her!

My ANTI-OTP? Honestly, Kaine x Nier. No real reason why it’s just not my cup of tea lol.

Thanks for the ask!

[faux-fires]

From the "40 Questions — Meme for Fic Writers": 7, 28 and one of your choice!

Thanks Holly! For the 40 questions for fic writers meme:

#7: Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

this dumb fucking joke from my dragon!fai/kurogane fic, Your Princess is in Another Castle. it's like 10 years old and I don't think anybody following this blog (except my fav scrublord, @mikkeneko) was in it with me, but i still smile to myself reading this fic and if u can't smile at ur own fic, what else is it FOR:

"Oh my god," Kurogane said, automatically, because like most dragons Ashura wasn't wearing any clothes. His knees suddenly felt very weak. "Um," said Fai, his glib tongue seeming to have deserted him. "Hello?" "Can I go?" Yuui asked Ashura. Despairing it was, then. At least he wasn't naked. It was a low bar to meet in terms of presentation, but so far two of the six people in this room weren't making it.

#28: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Easy peasy! #1, montparnasse, because i adore their poetic prose (as exemplified by the intro to my fav of their fics, the Hawkebella On Southerly Winds):

Once, lost-but-not-lost on a windless night at sea, Isabela told a young sailor, “You’ve got to live like everything can hurt you.” The sailor, new and green as a beansprout, said it was sound advice. She didn’t understand that it was not. It was fact, like iron in the blood.

#2, Spicyshimmy - handers fandom will know why, but i love their clever playing around with tone, their Hawke characterisation is so fun and sad, and Fareweel Regality remains one of my fav unreliable narrator stories. I also enjoy their larger ensemble pieces particularly in the Mass Effect fandom.

It didn’t take Bethany long to corner Garrett in the den, after he’d seen both the seneschal and Saemus out with a wink and a nod and a sigh of relief. ‘What on earth was that all about?’ she demanded, eyes alight with pure irritation, the mark of a truly loving sister. ‘Do you want the viscount’s son to think there’s madness in our family? Because that’s certainly how you were acting tonight.’ ‘Better madness than magic, I’d think,’ Garrett said.

And last but not least, #3, mikkeneko, my favourite scrublord. she can be ur angle:

"Hawke, what's going on here?" Merrill took in the scene with wide green eyes. "What did you do?" Hawke's expression was insufferably smug. "I found out how to use the Mirror of Transformation to make extra copies of myself," he said. "And... viola!" "That's the instrument," Varric muttered out of the side of his mouth.

... she can be ur deville....

"Promise me," Kurogane insisted. "I promise," he said. "I'll... do what I have to, to stay alive." So that you'll have something to come back to.

... but mostly, she's ur mikke.

Somewhere lost in the clouded annals of myth, in the vague spaces beyond the edges of the map where only dragons lie, in places unknown and untread by mortal feet, (do not pass Go, do not collect $200), in just such a dim and murky place, resides a tavern. This mysterious inn can only be reached by -- "How did you lot all get here, anyway?" Wei Wuxian asked. "Unmapped tributary of the River of Souls," mumbled Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Ninth Saint to the Serve the King Undying, the Reverend Daughter of Drearburh and Heir to the House of the Ninth. "Secret paths of Yggdrasil," murmured Loki Laufeyson, Shape-Changer, Sly-One, Wizard of Lies, Thief of Giants, Foe of the Gods and Forger of Evil. "Experimental portals powered by the Elder Blood," said Yennefer of Vengerberg, court mage of Aedirn, hero of Sodden, refugee of Nilfgaard, mother of Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Lady of Space and Time. "I mean I came here on a donkey, but your things are cool too," said Wei Wuxian.

And ladies' choice, #1: Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

happy endings. eventually. 😎