#playing track — harpy

[harpysongs]

dragons in stories: powerful creatures that are incredibly difficult to kill or control, often associated with such things as extreme weather phenomena or bodies of water

dragons irl: working some shitty retail job

[harpysongs]

Prefacing this by saying I only touched on a couple topics and this is already a lot of research. I don’t think anyone has to do this much digging if they don’t feel the need to, maybe you get an idea of what you look like and you don’t feel the need to question why you look that way which I think is a completely fair way to approach your appearance. These research topics may just be useful if you’re struggling with a part of your appearance, or if you’re like me and you’re just interested in piecing things together like this.

I’m still figuring myself out but when it comes to the physicality of my dragon form I actually try to avoid picking based on what I think looks cool. I’ll indulge in a bit of rule of cool — after all I do things to my physical appearance for no other reason then they’re cool all the time — but I try to ground everything first in how I feel as a dragon, then in myth and animal biology, then a bit of cool flare on top where I feel like it.

So for example my spikes are based on shifts that I have, then I look at animals with similar horns or spikes - what do they look like? What are they used for? Are there examples of mythical dragons with spikes like mine? What were those dragons meant to represent?

I haven’t figured out my wing shape yet but I’m basing it off a few concepts, this is something I’m also in the process of figuring out for my harpy form. What kind of flyer am I? Do I fly a lot or very rarely? Am I built for speed? Control? Distance? Silence? Power? Then I reference the wings of birds and bats with similar flying habits. I’m currently doing research into pterosaur wings specifically!

As for coloration there’s many ways to go about it, personally I don’t really know how to describe why I Know I have dark iridescence scales that can change color depending on mood and environment. When I experience shifts, especially very strong ones, I can just “see” my scales.

I think looking at mythical or fantastical dragons and help with that as well. It’s very common in fantasy to have certain colors that match their enchantments and breath weapons, like in dnd where white dragons live in cold environments and have ice breath so I know some people take that approach.

Speaking of environments, a lot of dragonkin have territorial instincts, or really connect with a certain environment so I think looking at what that environment would require for survival would be useful. Camouflage or bright warning colors? Are there reptiles from the environment you could reference? Or draconic mythology?

How I personally feel always comes first, I want everything to be grounded in my own experience as a dragon. Myth and biology research are useful to me for understanding why I have certain traits or how they may be used.

For any otherkin that identifies as a dragon, how do you choose a sort of "appearance" to use as a representation of yourself? I'm figuring that a lot of individuals decide their dragon's color and horns and fins and whatnot by picking what they like or think is cool (because something like curvy horns or being blue isn't necessary for being a dragon), but I haven't ever asked, so I have no clue what most dragons do.

Any replies would be appreciated, even if you are just friends with a dragonkin individual and know how they went about it.

[afewfantasies]

Hii, love your works!

Can you do a feyd rautha x reader?

They are married and he takes her to meet the harpies because she's curious, they start to like her and become protective of her because she doesn't take feyd away and she cares and treats them good.

Thanks

"PETS" - Feyd-Rautha X Reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.1K

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd-Rautha X Reader

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: Same as the ask but they aren't married yet.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Fluffy with mentions of gore.

Sorry for the wait @kitty95 but here it is 😊

Telling you ‘no’ felt like the only sin Feyd would be slow to commit. He revelled in your happiness and appreciation. The two of you had grown close and he felt like he didn’t need to hide all of his ugly. He’d already taken you into his armoury and then the torture chambers. Aside from the iron rich smell of the blood he watched and listened for something to change about the way you felt about him. But your hand only slipped into his in search of protection and assurance. Your eyes never wavered when you looked at him. Feyd never found you shrugging out of his touch. Somehow this felt different, it was different in every way. Unlike weapons, poisons and his violent delights there was no eminent danger to you. Weapons had to be deployed to be dangerous, his Harpies were anything but safe. They were creatures that lived for his satisfaction and held more bloodlust than even Feyd himself. Unlike most pets, Feyd’s Harpies survived on the flesh of his enemies. Feyd was their only friend. He was the only person they refrained from hissing at, snarling, snapping or biting. His were the hands that fed them and he seldom went to them empty handed. Seeing them gorge didn’t disgust him but it would disgust you. Feyd knew that from the moment he bit into a rare steak on your first night together.

“Feyd please I want to meet them” you ask employing doe eyes knowing they’re his weakness.

“They’re unpredictable, territorial and jealous” he rasps closer to a no than he’s ever been. He looks away and you get out of bed heading to the window to watch the double sun rise on the Giedi Prime.

“Come away from the window” Feyd hisses and you do padding over to him slowly. It’s the speed you can manage after being the subject of Feyd’s insatiable appetite for your flesh. His eyes roam over your naked body. His chest rises and falls as he holds out a hand to stop you. Your feet rest on the cold black tile as he gets out of bed closing the distance to you.

“Don’t you ever, show anyone what’s mine” his tone is harsh while the hold he has on your chin is soft.

“I let you have all of me freely and yet, you do not trust me with your Harpies” you whisper, holding his dark eyes. His conscience plays at him and he swallows his jaw clenching.

“Will you withhold from me should I hold fast in my position and not allow a meeting?” Feyd raises his hairless brow.

“No” you respond without needing to think it over. “But it will hurt,” you confess, grabbing a robe.

——

Your heart rate triples as you enter the forbidden sect of Feyd-Rautha’s quarters. You hear sharp whispers and laughter. You hold a covered platter of liver, the Harpies’ second favourite food according to Feyd. You press the doors open and all three of them are still until they realise you are not Feyd. Their movement is unlike anything you’ve ever encountered and one of them hisses showing off black teeth and gums. Another comes with a raised hand but stops dead in its tracks. Their eyes go white in the centre of their black orbs before dilating back to black. They smell their master all over you.

“I brought you food” you whisper while holding the platter out. The third Harpy takes the platter from you and the smell of the meat snaps them out of the daze caused by your intrusion for a moment. They eat savagely, licking the plate as you watch on in wonder.

“Masters newest pet” one says and you nod. “You smell just like him,” it says, causing you to blush. You’d had a shower prior to this visit and yet it’s done nothing to free you from the scent of Feyd.

“You let him come see us” another says and you nod.

“She isn’t disgusted by us or jealous” another one says looking at you with wide eyed wonder.

“No, you don’t disgust me” you correct. “I love Feyd and he loves you, I just wanted us to meet” you explain and they smile. You hear steps in the distance and they pick up. As Feyd’s concubine you know danger is everywhere and panic. Cold hands grip your arms dragging you behind the large black couch in the centre of their room. Weapons materialise in each of their hands, as well as snarled teeth and violent expressions. You hide, doing as you’ve been instructed only silence befalls the room as the doors open. You count to ten before looking over the couch to see Feyd. His anger fades into amusement as he sees his Harpies ready to defend you with their life. The image of you hiding and them ready to defend you brings him too much amusement. All of his most beloved possessions in one place. You stand and go to walk over to him when one of the Harpy’s grabs you again.

“He’s upset,” she warns, familiar with Feyd’s violent temper.

“I will take her punishment” one of them proposes, causing Fey’s lip to curl up in a smirk.

“No, it’s alright” you say, holding her arm. They all gasp at the gesture. The physical touch and connection most people are terrified to participate in. All four of them pile into a group hug holding you and purring all around you. It’s an overwhelming amount of affection. They purr for a few minutes before turning to Feyd with angry eyes.

“I won’t punish her,” he says, picking his battles wisely. Once you say your goodbyes the Harpies let you go.

“Come back soon!” The one with doe eyes calls before the door is shut. Looking up, Feyd stands in his regalia withholding a smile. You take a deep breath in anticipation of his punishment but he holds a hand out. You slip your hand into his and he smirks.

“Don’t disobey me again” Feyd warns.

“I didn’t, you never told me I couldn’t come at all” you correct and he brings your hand to his lips kissing your fingers softly.

“Tread lightly” he warns and you stop to look up at him. Moving from his side to in front of him you reach your hands up wrapping them around his neck. His head bows automatically. Feyd can’t find anything but utter devotion to him in your eyes. It’s what makes him relent. He pulls you to him by your waist.

“You’re good just as long as you never forget that nobody and nothing adores you more than me” Feyd hisses. Smiling you nod hoping he knows the feeling is mutual.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading all of you Feyd lovers 🖤🖤🖤🖤. Something quick and easy🩶🖤 Let me know if you liked it!

COMMENT, LIKE & REBLOG

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Delicate

Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: "Is it chill that you're in my head? / Cause I know that it’s delicate"

Warnings: Angst, death, major series spoilers for people who haven't finished the books

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

Sometimes I wonder, when you sleep / Are you ever dreaming of me?

Luke could admit to himself he wanted his best friend. He had for a long time. In fact everyone could see it, except for her. She seemed blissfully unaware of any feelings Luke had to the point that it made him nervous she was doing it on purpose. But if he couldn’t have her, he’d take the next best thing of being her friend. As long as she was in his life.

It was supposed to be bonfire night but Luke and Y/M had snuck off to the beach. They lay next to each other, staring up at the stars. Well, she was looking up at the stars, Luke was looking at her. They talked for hours about nothing until she finally dozed off.

Given the strict rules about curfew, Luke hardly ever got to see his best friend’s peaceful expression as she slept. Her face relaxed, unburdened by the perils of being a demigod. And as the two oldest at camp, they had a lot of perils.

Luke reached out, stroking her hair. That elicited a content sigh from her and he wondered if she was aware it was him. He wondered if she thought about or dreamed about him nearly as much as he did her. He had an ever present fantasy of absolutely sweeping her off her feet in a moment of glory. One of his favorites was after he won capture the flag, he’d march right up to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and just kiss her.

But of course that would never happen so he kept it stashed in the back of his mind.

He let her sleep for a few more minutes before he finally woke her up. “Hey, you gotta get up or the harpies will get us,” he laughed softly, shaking her awake.

She groaned but opened her eyes nonetheless.

Sometimes when I look into your eyes / I pretend you're mine all the damn time

Her eyes. Luke could probably get lost in them forever. He didn’t even need to watch the stars. He’d much rather watch the reflection of them in her eyes.

Unfortunately, the moment was ruined by one of the Athena boys. “Oh, hey Luke. Um, I just came to find Y/N. Chiron said late curfew starts in five minutes.”

“Really?” she asked, sitting up. “How long was I asleep?”

Luke felt his face get hot. He actually had no idea, he had completely lost track of time while watching her. “Uh not long. I just didn’t want to wake you,” he tried to play it off smoothly.

She gave him a soft smile, her hand finding his knee. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to waste your night.”

“No, no, no,” he quickly corrected. “You’re never a waste of time.”

“So um,” the Athena boy cut in awkwardly. “You want me to walk you to your cabin, Y/N? It’s right across from mine.”

Luke felt a surge of possessiveness. This guy clearly liked her. But before she could answer, Luke did it for her. “We’ll head over in a few minutes but thanks,” he tried to dismiss him.

The boy looked discouraged but tried to play it off. “Oh- uh ok.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Y/N offered, feeling bad for him. He immediately brightened with a smile before retreating back to his cabin.

Luke hated that she always seemed to leave the door open for other guys. They had had numerous conversations about the boys that liked her so he knew she wasn’t doing it on purpose. She just felt bad outright rejecting them so her sugar coating often came across as a signal to try harder. He just wished he could make it clear to them she was taken. Of course, she wasn’t his (yet).

Once Luke was sure he was out of earshot, he brought the topic up again. “He likes you.”

“No he doesn’t,” she immediately dismissed.

“Yes he does, and you trying to make him feel better about rejecting him doesn’t make it any better.”

“I didn’t reject him, you did.”

“Because I know you don’t like him.”

“Who says I don’t like him?” she shrugged.

Luke’s heart stopped. He had been playing defense so well for so long now that it hadn’t even occurred to him that she could like someone else. “What?”

She just shrugged again. “Who’s to say I don’t like him? You chased him away before I could get a word in.”

“D-do you like him?” Luke’s heart was pounding in his chest.

“No, but I’m just saying-”

“Gods, Y/N!” Luke interrupted in relief. “Don’t scare me like that.”

A satisfied look crossed over her face. “Why is that scary?”

He sent her a playful glare. “You know.”

“Tell me,” she pressed.

Is it cool that I said all that? / Is it chill that you're in my head?

Luke’s heart was pounding in his chest. She had basically already confirmed she was into him but the fear still lingered in his chest. He just had to say the words and he’d have his fantasy. She’d be his.

“I like you, Y/N. I have for a long time. I was just always scared you’d… I don’t know, reject me. Or think I was being stupid. But I like you.” Luke looked at her nervously, unsure of what she’d say. His heart was still pounding even when she leaned over and kissed him. As she tried to pull away for air, Luke’s hands found their way to her face, keeping her close. “I’m not done yet,” he mumbled against her lips, eliciting a giggle.

Long night with your hands up in my hair / Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs

That night Luke really didn’t want to leave her but Y/N wasn’t willing to break the rules just yet. He had spent the entire walk back to the cabins trying to convince her to sneak into the Hermes cabin. “Please, I swear no one will snitch on you.”

She laughed, intertwining her fingers into his. “Well what about my siblings when they see I’m not in bed? What will the children think?” By now they reached Cabin 7.

“The children can think whatever they want,” Luke smiled, pressing a kiss to her lips. It was late but several campers were still awake. Word of the couple would spread like wildfire and by the morning, even Chiron would know about the new couple.

But spending every night separately wouldn’t last for long. Y/N normally spent the evenings in the Hermes cabin where they had somehow managed to smuggle many forbidden things in. Like video games and junk food. And every night when the conch blew, signaling that curfew was soon, Luke begged her to stay. “Come on, no one will tell. Will you?” he asked his siblings.

That received a resounding “No!” swearing they’d keep our secret. She looked around the room, her resolve crumbling after weeks of this. “Fine,” she agreed. So many cheers erupted you’d think she just agreed to marry him. “But!” she waited for them to quiet down, “I’m still a counselor and I have to make sure everyone else is in bed.” Luke pouted but let her go nonetheless, promising to drag her back to Cabin 11 if she didn’t come back.

So after putting all the younger kids to bed, Y/N snuck back to Cabin 11. She found it dark but made her way to Luke’s bed. As she reached it, Luke could recognize the outline of her created by the moonlight. “Finally, I was just about to come break down your door.”

“Ha ha,” she laughed sarcastically. “Scoot over,” Luke obliged, sliding against the wall to create room. She slipped under the covers, settling against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, embracing her tightly, his face buried in her hair.

“‘M glad you’re staying,” he mumbled. “Feel like it’s easier to fall asleep when you’re with me.” He didn’t say it out loud but he liked having the assurance that she was safe in his arms as they slept.

“Me too,” she mused, her eyes already closed. “But I’ll say you kidnapped me if we get caught.”

“Okay,” Luke chucked. “You can blame me.”

My reputation's never been worse, so / You must like me for me

But those nights were gone now. Luke made his choice but so did she.

“Isn’t it messed up how the gods neglect their kids?” Luke asked as casually as possible, staring out at sea, his fingers tracing the dock.

“Yeah,” she mused. “Can you imagine being an omnipotent, immortal being but you can’t even take the time to tell your kid they belong to you? I mean, Apollo’s been pretty good about it but the others…?”

The pressure in Luke’s chest lessened as she more or less agreed with him. “Or how they treat us as disposable puppets? Like pawns?” He watched her face carefully as she considered it.

“What do you mean?”

Here we go. Luke began chipping at any remaining loyalty she had to the gods. “Well think about it. Thalia? Her godly parents could have saved her. Every demigod who died? Their parent could have saved them. My quest was a joke. All Hermes wanted me to do was repeat one of Heracles’ labors.”

She looked deep in thought. “I guess but why are you asking me about this?”

He took a deep breath before lacing his fingers in hers. “I’ve been uh… talking to someone.” She didn’t say anything but her furrowed brow urged him to continue. “I’ve been told that things don’t have to be the way they are. We don’t have to wait around until we’re killed. The Titan Lord could restore-”

“Shut up right now!” her frightened voice cut him off. She pulled her legs out of the water, shifting her sitting position to face him directly. “Luke! What- how- why are you doing this? So what if you can’t rely on the gods? You certainly can’t trust Kronos anymore.”

He gently grasped her hands. “Y/N, he promised every demigod that joins him immortality and safety. We wouldn’t have to cower in a summer camp with children who most likely won’t make it to their 18th birthdays. Please, come with me.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.” That broke his heart. “Luke, I love you. I really do. But I can’t let you go down this path.”

Through his internal struggle with Kronos, Luke could see Y/N staring at him, pain in her eyes. He gripped Annabeth’s knife tightly, saying a silent goodbye to everyone he loved and a curse to Kronos. “I love you,” he tried to say to her but it came out strained. The blade sunk into his only vulnerable spot under his arm—his Achilles heel.

“No!” he heard her yell. But he was already on the ground, beginning to lose consciousness at the fatal blow. But Y/N was kneeling over him, tears leaving tracks on her dirty face. “No, no, no,” she mumbled. “Why, Luke?” she practically screamed in frustration.

He reached up, wiping her tears and some dirt from her face. “Do you still love me? After everything I did?”

“Of course I love you!” she cried. “I never stopped.”

Despite the pain, he was smiling. “I love you too. I’ll see you in Elysium.”

She nodded, trying to smile too but the sobs were clawing their way of her throat. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Not too soon,” he insisted. “I love you, Y/N.”

Masterlist

[c0ld0utside]

Yandere Drider Dad

First fic! 

WARNINGS: Overprotective behavior, kidnapping, child neglect, child abandonment, spiders/spiderlings, possessiveness, reader gets gagged

Yandere Drider Dad who found you, a human, tangled up in his webs and covered by his kids who were crawling all over you. Half of them thought you were food, and half of them insisted on waiting “Until Dad gets home!” 

Yandere Drider Dad who wonders how you even got here and looks up to find a hole in the cave roof. It’s dark outside, tree tops and stars peering back down at him.

Yandere Drider Dad who tells them no, you’re not food, and no, you’re not staying. 

Yandere Drider Dad who despite their protests and whines, pulls his kids off of you (hissing at one of them when they accidentally cut you with their talons from trying to cling on to you) and cradles you in his arms for a moment. 

…You look…terrible. At first, he thinks it’s from the fall, but you look thin and to him, you feel like glass in his hands. Your hair is matted- why is it matted? He has some knowledge of humans, and he knows that they’re not stupid and that they usually take good care of their young. So why wasn’t this the case with you? 

Yandere Drider Dad who jolts when you wake up and start screaming. It startles him and he quickly webs your mouth shut, shushing and chittering at you. He’s not the only Drider on this mountain, and you don’t want to put your younger sib- his kids in danger, do you? 

Yandere Drider Dad who after thinking for a moment, patches your cuts and scrapes up with his webs, wraps you in in a cocoon so you can’t run off- to keep you warm, and places you back onto the webs. He tells his spiderlings to keep away from you so you don’t freak out even more and to stay put before leaving the nest.

Yandere Drider Dad who comes across a cabin as the sun starts to rise. He can’t keep you. He can’t. You’re a young human. You already have parents who are probably freaking out and wondering where you are. 

Yandere Drider Dad who stands there in silence when he finds an empty cabin, tire tracks and the smell of older humans still somewhat fresh. Did they leave you?

They left you.

Yandere Drider Dad who feels both relieved and angry. He takes back what he thought about humans. They’re all stupid. He searches around, looking for tracks or signs that they at least tried to look for you. There’s nothing. No signs at all. They simply packed up and left. He’s angry that humans would just leave their children for no reason at all. 

But also relieved that he can keep you now. 

Yandere Drider Dad who won’t leave you and ignore you like your spawnpoints did. He’ll take better care of you. He’s the only option you have left, and he’s not complaining. 

Yandere Drider Dad who “adopts” you into his family. You have so many younger siblings to play with now! Sure, they don’t really understand personal space just yet, and they may bite you from time to time, but they love you just as much as your Dad does. They got attached to you the moment you landed in their home. 

Yandere Drider Dad who goes out of his way to cook your portion of dinner, even though he and your siblings eat it raw. Don’t eat meat? He’s concerned, but goes out at night to collect some nuts and berries for you. Allergic? Never mind the nuts then. Do expect to be hand-fed if you try to make a fuss. 

Yandere Drider Dad who refuses to let you leave the cave. It’s dangerous out there, after all. Other Driders aren’t as kind as he is, and there’s also wild animals- and what if you got hurt- what if someone tried to take you away- like a harpy- those things will snatch up spiderlings- he's already lost one-

What if you ran away? 

…Yeah, no. You’re staying in the cave with your siblings. 

Why would you run away? Why would you leave them? He cares about you. Your siblings care about you. He doesn’t understand why you keep fussing. Why do you keep screaming and shouting at him and your siblings? He loves you, but please. Stop. It’s hurting your throat and your family’s sensitive ears, and it puts everyone in danger. He keeps your mouth webbed shut unless you’re eating and until you finally stop. 

Yandere Drider Dad who wraps you up tightly in a cocoon to keep you nice, warm, and safe. And to make sure you don’t try to run away again. Why would you want to go back? The other humans obviously didn’t care about you. Who needs them? Especially when you have him and your little siblings, all who cuddle up together on the web when it’s time for bed. 

With you in the middle. 

Right where you belong. 

Surrounded by your real family. 

-

Do tell me if I missed some warnings + criticism is welcome

[kiwisa]

grid dynamics ✩ the harpy

F1 Grid x Fem! Driver! OC

⏤ series masterlist

✩ GEORGE RUSSELL

#GEOSTRÉE... ıllı NOW PLAYING: You’re My Best Friend, Queen !

George was the first person to welcome her, to reach out to her. If their meeting seems to have been determined by the fact that Astrée debuted with Williams, the extent to which her teammate went to put her at ease shows the sincerity of his intentions. Very quickly, their collegial relationship turned into a true friendship that kept growing until Astrée came to consider George as her best friend. If it is usually complicated for her to open up to others, George soon imposed himself as an obvious choice.

He has in a way become her pillar in Formula One, being her protector and mediator on the paddock, whether with the press or the other drivers, both of whom can sometimes take Astrée's unintentionally rude gestures badly.

George is always pushing his friend to try new things, dragging her into messy plans like post-race parties where the alcohol flows freely or holidays spent climbing mountains—Astrée hates hiking.

Since Astrée's transfer to Red Bull and George's to Mercedes, the two former Williams drivers don't see each other as much as they used to, but they take advantage of the races to catch up and they sometimes even fly to see each other, either in Monaco (where Astrée lives) or in London. At each break, whether summer or winter, they spend one or two days together. It has become a tradition that has yet to be broken.

✩ CHARLES LECLERC

#CHASTRÉE... ıllı NOW PLAYING: Bad Liar, Selena Gomez !

It took Charles a long time to dare to approach Astrée. He was intimidated by her. It must be said that he is perhaps one of the only drivers to have followed her career closely, and not only when her arrival in F1 was announced. The many praises he heard from his brother Arthur in F2 didn't help either to shake off the image of Astrée as a racing prodigy. The first time they really spoke was when Astrée congratulated Charles on his podium finish at Silverstone⏤which ended with a DNF for the woman⏤three months after she had joined the grid. If Astrée hadn't made the first move⏤which in itself is a miracle⏤they could have gone on for a long time without talking to each other.

The reason for this is very simple. Although he will never admit it, even under torture, Charles has developed a little crush on the French girl since he discovered her existence. Unfortunately for him, not admitting it doesn't mean he doesn't show it: this boy has no concept of discretion. Looking at her with puppy dog eyes and blushing every time she deigns to speak to him are not the definition of "secret." Internet users put two and two together rather quickly and, since then, ship them together.

Excluding his inability to function normally around her, the two French speakers have managed to build a strong friendship, which is underrated on the paddock and internet, perhaps because we see her more with George or Lando. Yet, Charles is the mediator between her and Max and perhaps the only one who gets them to talk to each other without insults.

✩ LANDO NORRIS

#LASTRÉE... ıllı NOW PLAYING: True Love, Pink !

Lando is the perfect example of the bad first impression Astrée can trigger in others. Outwardly cold, as she is reserved and cautious by nature, Astrée was immediately intimidating to the young Britishman. Although they are almost the same age, Lando's reactions to Astrée suggest that he is much younger than she is. Fearful of confronting her on the track, of talking to her, the driver is never at ease when the Frenchwoman is near him. Even the simple fact of being in the same room as her terrifies him: Astrée is silent, cold, charismatic, unpredictable and Lando hates it.

However, what started out as a distance between the two due to shyness on Astrée's part and some form of intimidation on Lando's has evolved into a friendship with a unique dynamic that many internet users love for the content that emerges from it. Lando and Astrée are like cat and mouse. And Astrée is definitely not the mouse.

Numerous videos⏤there would be enough to make an hour-long compilation (fans often have a field day doing precisely that)⏤have captured all the times Astrée has terrorised Lando. If at first she didn't realise it and just found this Englishman rather strange… she soon understood what was going on and learned to use it to her advantage to get her daily dose of happiness. There's something hilarious about seeing an almost 25-year-old man screaming because of her "hello." She can't help it: her sadistic side comes out with Lando.

If the latter is the victim of her numerous attacks, he can count on his tormentor to also be his defender. Every time someone other than her dares to make fun of the McLaren driver, they are violently put in their place by Astrée.

Even though Lando still fears the woman, he knows that these seemingly sadistic gestures are actually a way for her to express her friendship (he would prefer words of affirmation or gifts but, as the famous saying goes, it is what it is).

✩ DANIEL RICCIARDO

#ASTRIEL... ıllı NOW PLAYING: Here Come The Sun, The Beatles !

No one thought these two would get along, but they proved to everyone that opposites can sometimes be a good fit. If one is the sun and the other, the moon, their differences allow them to reach a certain balance that just works. They complement each other so well. Daniel can drop his constant positivity around Astrée for a few moments without her judging him and Astrée can, for once, let down her guard.

Astrée is never as smiley as when she is with Daniel, and everyone sees that ⏤ drivers and internet users alike. Many times, the woman has been spotted bursting into laughter. This is rare in the paddock and when it happens, you can be sure that Daniel was the one to tell the joke. Like George, Daniel pushes Astrée out of her comfort zone and shows her that showing positive feelings is not a sign of weakness but can become a strength.

Since he has become Red Bull's reserve driver, and therefore they don't see each other at every race⏤running into each other once in a blue moon at the HQ is not the same⏤, many people notice that Astrée has turned in on herself, and smiles even less than before. The one who managed to calm the storm is no longer there to chase away the clouds, to the great displeasure of the others who thought they would see a lull on the paddock and track. This does not mean she tried to dissuade Daniel from making this choice, however. On the contrary, it was she who convinced him to leave McLaren: Astrée always has his back and will not stand to see anyone disrespecting him.

✩ LEWIS HAMILTON

#ASTRIS... ıllı NOW PLAYING: Your Song, Elton John !

Their beginnings were somewhat catastrophic, full of awkwardness, embarrassing moments, and sickly shyness (see their first conversation after the Imola GP) which can be explained by the great esteem Astrée has for Lewis. If he is not the one who inspired her to start racing⏤she owes that to a certain Michael Schumacher⏤he was the one who proved to her that everything was possible even when the world was against you. Lewis is, therefore, the only person who manages to intimidate Astrée. Normally, the exact opposite occurs (see Lando or Charles' personal experiences).

Astrée took a long time to get over the fact that yes, she knew The Lewis Hamilton and that, yes, this same Lewis Hamilton wanted to get acquainted. Their friendship was one that happened in private, away from the cameras. If various interactions on Twitter or comments on Instagram showed everyone that they are friendly acquaintances, the outings to Monaco, the skydiving, and the few holidays spent together were kept secret.

The transition from friendship to love went smoothly after a year of a somewhat ambiguous connection. These two are very much in love but remain hidden, for the same reasons as their friendship was: apart from the desire to keep it to themselves, they want to avoid hateful comments on the internet. They have no plan to launch their idyll any time soon, preferring to enjoy each other's company without being judged by strangers. They are well aware that their considerable age gap would be a bone of contention.

If they⏤and particularly Astrée⏤are determined to protect their relationship, it is because the latter acts as a true protective bubble for both of them. Astrée is the only one who understands Lewis and manages to take the weight off his shoulders. The opposite is also true, but, above all, he helps her to get past the criticisms which, despite two years, continue to persist.

No one knows about it, except for George who has become their diversion, but some suspect it. Probably because Astrée is shipped with every driver. Perks of being the only female driver, I guess.

✩ MAX VERSTAPPEN

#MAXÉE... ıllı NOW PLAYING: Me And The Devil, Soap&Skin !

Many thought that these two would get on well together. Two drivers with a sharp competitive spirit and a cold appearance: it seemed written in the stars. Their way of being on and off the track is quite similar. Perhaps a little too much so. For many, it is this very similarity that is the source of their discord. Rather than seeing the things they have in common as an opportunity for friendship, they become a weakness, a mirror held up to them that they would rather ignore.

They make everyone’s—the other drivers included—heads spin as their relationship constantly oscillates between hate and friendship. Many paradoxical gestures do not help internet users to determine what is going on between them. While Astrée abandoned her race at the 2021 Silverstone GP to help Max and suggested that two of the season's best drivers were getting along, the Frenchwoman's past tweets criticising him and the many jabs at each other in press conferences suggest otherwise. The chaos that was the 2021 Netherlands GP gave the final blow to what might have been.

For these two, the professional ruins the personal. It is impossible for them to get past the status of rivals and bond. Every time they interact, each other's victories and defeats come back to the front like bad memories—which they essentially are.

Astrée's transfer to Red Bull did not help. On the contrary, it has reinforced the immense rivalry between these two: neither of them wants to be the second driver. What was supposed to be a dream team—made up of two exceptional drivers that everyone expected and feared—quickly turned into a nightmare where chaos and quarrels coexist, much to the dismay of one Christian Horner who would very much like to send them to couples therapy.

✩ taglist !

@xcharlottemikaelsonx @i0veless @simping4marauders @muglermami @fxllfaiiry @exatse @lilsiz @iloveandsuffer @notaceventura @missamericana69 @kageyamama-hinatatata @gentlemonsterjennie1 @sad1esgf @16solace @kenanlotus0 @till1am @itsnotgray @starkwlkr @missflobelova @mehrmonga @crimeshowjunkie @anicega @kosmosgalore @lovemarvel16 @charles-dimple @hiding-behindmy-glasses @serenityleah @flowerchild-96 @hopiiex @ivegotparticulartaste @jivas0 @screechingtrashkid @gxp30 @lauren--maex @idkiwantchocolatee @javden @lighttsoutlewis @rowansshit @like-fire-love-blog @ironmaiden1313 @tpwkforevermore @thydarkestknight @almostjollypizza @sunfairyy @scuderialavender @erinisrightheree @f1version @motorsp0rt @mango-bear @xoxmariaxox @rippl3s @mactavishly

[stars-n-spice]

Calling all the Monsters

Happy Halloween from the Silly Spooky Squad!

Wanted to do a little something with them and make some matching icons because it would be cute! Thought about making them random classic Halloween monsters and then figured it'd be more fun to relate their monsters to each other one way or another :D

So who's what under the cut!

Hunter as a classic Werewolf & Jung as a Korean Gumiho (nine-tailed fox)!

I see people normally draw Hunter as a werewolf and I think it's pretty fitting since he's so scrungy and he tracks stuff like a dog.

So for Jung I thought to do another canine monster and went with a Gumiho, or the Korean version of the nine-tailed fox so they could be canine buddies!

Echo as Frankenstein's Creature and Viram as a Mad Scientist!

A cyborg would be fitting for Echo, but I wanted some classic Halloween creatures, so Frankenstein was a fitting match; besides, I've seen art of him as Frankenstein's creature usually, so I went with it.

So of course Viram had to be Victor/a mad scientist to accompany him and it's somewhat fitting since Viram is a doctor (though she's never actually do any malpractice)

Wrecker as a Scarecrow and Khea as a Harpy!

Because Khea's clan symbol is a bird, I decided that I should make her a harpy since birds play a big role as a sort of symbol/motif for her.

In turn I made Wrecker a scarecrow since ravens and scarecrows go hand in hand and I based his scarecrow look off his outfit from being on Cut's farm because I thought it was fitting and it's such a cute outfit!

Tech as a Ghost Explorer and Phee as a Siren!

Ok, got a little creative with this one because I didn't want to make Phee a straight-up pirate since she already is one, so instead I decided to make her a siren.

Then I wasn't sure what to make Tech because he'd be a fitting mad scientist but I already had one and that didn't relate to Phee's siren so instead I settled on a ghost, but specifically an old explorer ghost who lost his life at sea and now spends his days around Phee!

Crosshair as a Vampire Priest and Tay as a Demon!

Crosshair is just a straight-up classic vampire, and that's a classic Halloween monster, so of course I was going to make him a vampire–but specifically a priest vampire so it lined up with Tay's monster.

Decided to make Tay a demon because he's a cheeky little shit and because demons/devils have horns like Chagrians.

Omega as a Witch and Batcher as a Zombie Dog!

Last but not least, I had to make at least someone a witch so I settled with Omega because I thought it would be fitting.

Then I didn't have any zombies or mummies so I thought to make Batcher an undead-dog revived by Omega via some dark magic or other so that the two could relate to each other!

[ranticore]

How did Ambrose capture the sphynx??

Sphinxes are super dangerous active predators and rarely cooperative with humans so the fact that Ambrose has Flicker working with him is his main evidence of legitimacy as a monster tamer. Ambrose tracked Flicker down after falconers complained of their harpies being dive bombed near his village. The sphinx engaged him in a game of riddles when they met, and Ambrose cleverly turned the riddle back on the sphinx, rendering it speechless, and it then submitted to his will and admitted that he was its rightful master.

That's what Ambrose claims, anyway, and he believes it to be true. In reality, Flicker is an unusual member of its kind who just couldn't be fuckin bothered learning how to strike out on its own after being kicked out by its mother. When confronted by Ambrose it softballed him on every riddle and then cheerfully agreed to follow him home, under the condition that it would get a nice shelter, food to eat, and a nice bed to curl up on. Flicker is lazy and unambitious, but cunning enough to play Ambrose like a fiddle if it so desires.

Having "tamed" an unusually biddable sphinx, Ambrose then felt he could definitely handle a manticore next (he can't - Flicker is the one keeping Twist in line, most of the time). He did not realise that the two creatures, while both catlike, are not remotely similar at all where husbandry is concerned.

[colderdrafts]

13 – A disturbance

Underground visitor, gn reader x monster (male drider). Sfw. TW for gore and violence. First Previous Next

Dimly lit tunnels passes by you in a blur as you walk, unseen forces tugging at you to keep moving. So far, you’ve passed by the path to collect water, the living room, the library, the sleeping quarters - deeper and deeper into the depths of Dren's extensive and confusing home. Eventually, you find yourself at the entrance of tunnels you’ve yet to travel.

You lantern does not do much to illuminate what lies beyond this point. It's like staring into a void. While Dren has vigilantly made sure the tunnels you most frequent remains lit, other tunnels leading to and from those places are not. Still, the agitated anxious energy will not leave you.

I need to move.

You take a few tentative steps forward. The need does not diminish. Is the air colder here? Or are you just nervous?

What a silly thought. There's nothing to be scared of down here.

You press on, and soon, you find yourself accompanied by darkness.

Well, the dark, at least, you correct yourself, throwing an annoyed thought the harpy’s way.

You're not too worried about getting lost, knowing Dren will instinctively know where you are and can come guide you back. Still, there's something eerie about venturing alone into the unfamiliar dark tunnels, with only a lantern to guide you. The deafening silence down here still gets to you at times. It’s just so achingly empty.

Perhaps it's something one can get used to. After all, Dren still lives here, doesn’t he? But even if it is a spider thing, you can't fathom it's very pleasant.

The dark stretches before you, and you feel a little better the further you go, trying to keep track of the turns you make.

You come by yet another small stream that floats gently through the tunnel you’re in, carved out so it gently trinkles along the side of the wall. Neatly out of the main path, yet still serving as a guide. Perhaps it’ll lead you somewhere, and it should at least be easy enough to track back. You watch the swirling patterns carved into the wall as you follow the small stream, listening to the calm flow of water that fills the otherwise heavy stillness.

Several indents in the web above you signals there’s tunnels leading up too. Seems Dren has thoroughly connected to this part of the cave as well. You’d probably be able to reach up and climb them if you really wanted to. That is, if the thread he’s spun here isn’t that sticky stuff he uses for traps. You’d not want to be tangled in one of those again.

You gingerly reach out toward the ceiling to test it, when a very, very subtle sound of movement somewhere to your right catches your attention.

Movement? Down here? That can’t be right.

Nothing but you should be alive this far down, should it?

This must be your mind playing tricks. Your brain just wants to fill out the quiet with something. Regardless, goosebumps appear on your skin. With them, comes the continued need to move.

“Fine, I’m going,” you mutter to no one in annoyance. Why are your hands suddenly so clammy? The parasite inside you churns with worry at the thought of hostility, though not in the way of Morgan’s presence bearing down on you. So where is this sudden burst of anxiety coming from?

A muffled sound like rock hitting dirt disturbs your train of thought. It came from the same direction.

You frown. Perhaps you should follow your instinct here. If anything, to prove to yourself everything’s fine.

You quickly pull down the cover of the lantern, leaving you in the complete dark, but with your hand on the wall you feel your way forward towards the sound.

There’s a small indent on the wall, and feeling around it, you find there's a tunnel leading up, thankfully closer to the ground where you can reach it. The sounds might have come from somewhere within.

You quietly lift yourself up. It's not far, and soon you're standing in a slightly smaller tunnel. It goes upwards. From here, you can hear it much better. The movement turns to quiet muttering. Unfamiliar voices. Up ahead, you see the faintest light source.

Your heartbeat quickens. You're definitely not alone.

Your fears confirmed, you sneak forward as quietly as you can, the soft padding of your feet on the dirt below. Something’s wrong. You stare at the swirling patterns there, finding some comfort knowing you're still in touch with a highly efficient defense system. But why hasn't it set of the one who usually monitors it?

You reach the end of the smaller tunnel, the faint lights shining from within illuminating the walls and floor. Interestingly, in this spot, Dren has apparently decided to cover every surface in a soft padding of web. You carefully peek around the corner with bated breath.

Oh.

It would seem you've found out where Dren hides his eggs.

You're looking into a small enclave covered in web from ceiling to ground. In the middle is a small cluster of three orange, oval eggs about the size of soccer-balls, covered in a protective layer of webbing. It takes second for you to register the utter defenselessness of them. How much you've just imposed on the sanctity of their hidden room.

If not for the light piercing the dark you just came from, you'd never have found them. You glance further into the room, and find its source. Your blood runs cold.

Three hooded figures are standing at the opposite end of the alcove, eyeing the eggs and quietly whispering in foreign noises to each other. One of them moves their head, and you catch a glimpse of blueish tinted scales of their skin. You grit your teeth, realizing what's happening.

They're snatchers. There's no doubt about it.

Behind them, there is a small open hole in the wall, barely big enough to fit an adult human through.

So that's how they did it. Your grip on the lantern tightens, wondering if these are the same thieves that made way with the rest of Dren's children. And finding a need to plant a solid fist in each of their faces, as it seems they're about to finish the job. Nasty little things.

What should you do?

If you start yelling for Dren they'll undoubtedly find you, and you can easily picture what could happen: You get attacked, and they haul ass out of there, snatching whatever they can carry quickly and make away.

It risks the arachnid losing the rest of his offspring. You don't want to know how he'd react to that. You can hardly bear leaving him even with his family still alive.

You should at least try to warn him.

Soundlessly, you run your fingers through the soft webs to find the carvings on the wall, finding the strong, silky warning thread within. You shake it vigorously. Some of the webbing breaks off and sticks to your hand, but you don't have time to worry about that right now, picking out another one and shaking that one too for good measure.

Simultaneously, the snatchers start moving.

One of them steps extremely carefully toward the eggs. In the light from their lantern, you spot that it has covered its feet in web, and carefully moves so that no other part of its body touches it.

Huh. Clever.

You shake the web again. If Dren doesn't feel it, he's going to lose them. You bite back a loud protest yell as the thief slowly reaches toward one of the defenseless orbs on the floor.

It would appear you need to make a decision. You need to move.

At this rate, Dren will never make it in time before they're gone. And you're not going to stand idly by and witness a kidnapping without at least trying to intervene. You'll have to buy their parent some time. You brace yourself for potentially one of the most stupidly risky acts you've performed in your life.

"Leave them!" you bellow suddenly, and fling yourself toward the snatcher closest to the eggs.

Element of surprise on your side, a gnarly startled screech escapes the creature, and it immediately stumbles backwards towards its fellows, and out of your way.

You quickly jump forward and stand in front of the eggs protectively, shielding them from the offenders with your arms out in an awkward position.

It's quiet a moment. The snatchers stare at you, and up close now you recognize one of them as the red one who spotted you back at the marketplace. Their yellow eyes once again stare into yours.

They bare their teeth at you and hiss something, guttural words you can’t make sense of.

The other two step out to flank you, and suddenly the sharp ends of a pair of spears are pointed at you.

You ball your fists to keep your hands from shaking.

"I'm not letting you take them," you hiss back, relying on a bubbling protective anger to keep you grounded. "I've already called for the parent. You should get out of here while you still can."

You're bluffing, and frankly you don't even know if these creatures can understand you. But you don't get any option to find out as the red one snarls something else. In a split second, the blue one on their left lunges at you, spear at the ready.

You instinctively throw yourself to the side, narrowly dodging the tip of the wooden weapon. However, you've left the eggs exposed when doing so.

The other two immediately take advantage and close in on them, while the blue one focuses on keeping you occupied.

You grab two handfuls of web from your position close to the wall and pull with all your might. It comes off with a soft ripping noise, and you quickly hurl it at your blue assailant.

The blue one rambles angrily, probably in no kind terms telling you to knock it off, tearing the sticky threads off their body. They hiss, and jab forward, stabbing at you again. You jump sideways, but the creature is quick to reassess their aim. The weapon connects with the tissue in your shoulder and you grunt in pain, feeling warm blood trickle down your arm.

The other two have meanwhile managed to pick up one of the eggs each. You don’t have time to intervene with the blue one still coming at you.

In an act of desperation you swing your lantern at them, hitting them over the head with a loud clonk. The glass shatters, sharp splinters flying across the room. The blue one staggers back, dazed and now bleeding.

You take the opportunity and step forward, shoving your uninjured shoulder into their side. They're smaller than you, and trips and falls, further disturbing the webbing below.

You manage to snatch up their discarded spear, and rush ahead to cut the thieves off, blocking the small hole that makes the exit. You point it at the two fleeing with one egg each.

"Put them down!" you demand.

The two others stop momentarily, hissing at you, but while your focus was on them, the blue one has recovered. You feel a scaled arm locking around you and catching you in a headlock. You're roughly pulled backwards, losing your grip on the spear. The other two waste no time hurrying toward the exit with their prices.

The one furthest behind does not get that far. A flash of black snatches it clean off the ground, squealing.

Their red companion turns in time to watch a pair of long, hairy and pitch black spider’s legs slowly appearing from the opening of the alcove, having grappled their friend uncomfortably tight around the stomach.

Dren fully enters the room, his imposing presence suddenly making the small room feel much smaller. He's holding the snatcher with his front legs, and they're kicking and snarling in his grip, desperately struggling to escape. The egg lands on the soft webbing below with a soft bump, thankfully unharmed, and Dren quickly uses another leg to pull it behind him to safety.

Then he let's out a disgusted huff, and rapidly slams the snatcher into the ground. Following the movement is a loud crunch.

You hear bone snapping with the force of the impact, and the snatcher squeals in agony.

Dren carelessly lifts the screaming creature, and smashes them against the floor again. Their pained cries echoes through the otherwise deadly silence of the cave.

You can do nothing but stare.

Drens lifts the snatcher, and knocks them against the floor again.

And again.

And again.

Three more times, until the squealing snatcher goes silent save for a wet gurgling wheeze, their body reduced to a broken pile of bones and meat.

A cold sweat breaks out as your entire body shudders, distraught from the horrific sight.

How long until he cracks, and simply kills you?

The grip on your head lessens in favor of gripping around your upper body tightly, and you hear a small whine from the blue snatcher holding you captive. It feels like it now focuses more on using you as a meat shield rather than trapping you.

Dren looks up from the ruined carcass below him and his eyes dart between the one holding you, and the one holding his second egg, eerily quiet with and odd stoic expression. Fresh blood drips from his carapace, his mandibles clicking in contemplation, like wondering who he should sink his fangs into next.

No one dares move.

You suddenly understand why an insect freezes in the presence of a predator, fearful of what any slight disturbance in the air would set off. It's like he's an arrow nocked on a bow, ready to release at any moment, and you pray to anyone who might be listening that you're not its target.

You suddenly feel something sharp poking your side and let out a small gasp. Not a millisecond later, you let out a yell as a large spiders body is suddenly towering over you, there in a flash. The blue snatcher’s grip on you vanishes in an instant as it flies upwards, dropping a knife that falls to the webbed ground with a soft thud.

You stumble forward, landing clumsily on your knees and palms in the sticky webbing below. All around you there is movement as Dren paces around, his lower body above you. There's an uncanny wet tearing noise, and you suddenly see droplets of blood falling on the floor as yet another squealing egg-thief is efficiently silenced.

You hear footsteps, as the last of the snatchers, the red one, makes a beeline for the small exit, sprinting across the alcove with one egg in each arm.

Dren's entire body springs to attention as he moves above you, pointing in the direction of the last thief. He dashes toward it, carelessly throwing the now disfigured body he was holding aside. They splatter against the wall with a squelch, leaving blood stains behind as they join their dead comrade.

The last snatcher barely manages to leap through the opening before Dren tramples them flat.

"NO!" Dren roars, and starts pushing his legs into the opening, too big to fit through. "NO!"

His enraged outburst echoes through the cave as he claws at the opening in the wall, trying to make it bigger so he can give chase.

You sit up and stare at him, feeling your heart galloping, a stench of blood and sweat in the air. Your eyes dart to the two mangled corpses carelessly thrown to the ground, and you find it odd. How were these lumps of meat two people just mere seconds ago? The final egg lies motionless on the floor close to them, vulnerable and harmless. The very beginning of this whole conflict.

What will they be capable when they grow up?

You look back to Dren, your answer, your companion and protector, watching him completely loose himself along the safety of his last eggs.

There's an odd sort of clarity in your mind then, watching this unfold. Like being inside the eye of a storm.

Something in the way Dren tears through his home without a care of ruining what he has spend so long building, in between his wheezes and snarling, you're reminded of what he is in this moment. Despite having witnessed him tearing two people apart in seconds flat, despite the bloody scene and ruthless violence - right now, he's just a parent, desperately trying to avoid any harm coming to his children.

You can feel it. You can sense the pain and fear fueling his wrath, and you find it links to something you share with him. Something inside you pops, a sudden burst of anger demands you take action.

Dren won’t fit through that hole. But you will.

Quickly, you find yourself on your feet, picking up the discarded spear and rushing toward the custodian to help.

"Move!" you yell at Dren, and he doesn't hear you at all, still feverishly ripping whole chunks out of the wall. "Out of the way!"

You push past the flurry of movement that is his legs, and shiver when they grace across your back when you interrupt, but thankfully no further - seems he's still coherent enough not to squash you - so you quickly slip inside the opening to chase down the red thief. The arachnid’s distressed shouting and hissing continues behind you, and you hear him call your name.

You see the light-source up ahead and sprint toward the snatcher, even though you're not really sure what you're going to do if you catch it. The tunnel is narrow and you need to duck your head under roots traveling across the ceiling. The snatcher is quick, but you find yourself at an even pace, even catching up. It carrying two eggs might have given you an advantage in movement.

The snatcher stops up ahead close to a small ladder presumably leading outside. Carefully but quickly, the red one puts the eggs into a basket waiting on the ground next to it. You intercept them there, spear at the ready.

"Give them back!" you yell.

The red snatcher stares up at you in surprise, and meets your threat with a hiss. They take a heavy step forward.

You don't let up. You angrily jab the spear at Red again to force them further back, and away from the eggs.

They snarl at you this time, two long fangs glinting in the dim lantern light as their hands open and closes, considering their options. With their hood back, you notice the red scales covering their head are torn in places. Their yellow eyes are blown wide open, and their nostrils are flaring.

They're afraid.

As they should be.

"Run now, and you may get out of here alive," you spit, trying your words while they're still reluctant to fight. "Get the hell out of dodge before the spider figures out the tunnel has another entrance point."

You're still not sure if the thing even understands you. But they look between you and the basket containing their price, and then glances back the way where a certain large predator has his mind currently set to 'brutally murderous'.

The snatcher takes a few steps backwards, watching you. When you make no move, they turn on their heel, and dashes toward the ladder, leaving the eggs and lantern behind. They glance back at you one last time, before rapidly ascending it into the darkness outside, and out of view.

You keep watch for a few seconds, giving the snatcher time to cover some ground before daring to look away from the opening.

Once certain they've gone, you hurriedly open the basket, and look over the eggs.

They're still orange, slightly translucent, and, most importantly, uninjured. On top of the tough membrane, you see what seems to be an outline of legs. You breathe a heavy sigh of relief, carefully putting a hand on one of them. It’s pleasantly warm.

There's a strange sort of intimacy in staring at these fragile little creatures. After all, Dren's trusted no one to see them, not even you.

This is Dren’s children you’re looking at. And you've just saved their lives.

Carefully, your reach down to scoop them up in your arms.

"Holy shit, do not drop them, do not drop them.." you urgently whisper to yourself as you do, anxious you might accidentally do just that.

The warmth emanating from them is familiar, and you hold them close to your chest, carefully making your way back down the tunnel. The weight of them in your arms brings an odd sense of calm to you, despite the haphazard situation.

A brief gust of wind stops you, however, and you glance back at the hole above the ladder.

You almost feel a pull, calling you towards it.

What a bad time to be interrupted. But you could just go and leave everything behind to be somewhere else, couldn't you?

All these emotions, all of this trouble, the blood and violence, everything you'll need to fix when you get back home. You don't have to do any of it.

It's almost tempting to climb up, if just for a few seconds. Just escape to the outside and feel free of it all.

Escape? You stop and ponder on your own train of thought. That would require I'm a captive.

You look down at the two vulnerable orbs nestled safely in your arms.

No. Something else inside you says. These are more important right now.

You trudge back down the tunnel, ignoring the thing inside you squirming in protest.

Dren has meanwhile managed to turn the opening of the snatcher tunnel into mulch. He's still going at it when you return, now completely silent save for the noise of dirt being ripped apart.

The sight reminds you of the potential danger from this whole confrontation. Dren's current state of mind, and the full view of his powerful legs violently reducing the wall to nothing, is not helping matters. Suddenly, you don’t feel much like a savior. You feel more like a rat hiding inside a crack in the wall, while the cat tries to furiously claw its way towards it.

You step in place for a moment, unsure.

"Dren?" you call out eventually, hesitant.

And the movement halts. You can hear him panting from the effort, tense and awaiting your next words with panicked anticipation.

Your throat is dry. "I- I have them. They're okay.”

Dren’s legs slowly retreat and his head and torso appears in the tunnel entrance. He leans down to peer through it at you.

All his pitch black eyes are wide open and his mandibles are flaring, but something in his expression shifts when he spots you holding his eggs close as to not drop them. Fear? Anger? Desperation? You can't read him at all.

You take a wary step back.

“Please,” he rasps quickly when you do so, and very, very slowly reaches his bloodied hands toward you. Inviting you in with open arms. “Please. Come here.”

There's something eerily familiar in the way he says that, his voice gently rolling through your mind, urging, compelling you, in a way he hasn't done before.

The cold sweat prickling your skin at the feeling makes you reluctant to follow the instruction. Yet, another part quite would like to, would like to indeed, you can trust him and get closer, he’s safe, you know he’s safe- You shake it off, unsure if he's of sound mind to not grab and tear you apart the second you're within reach. Just like he did the previous creature who held his eggs.

Dren swallows, obviously struggling to not continue his rampage to just get them back, to just reach you, to take control of what happens to what is his - armed with the patience of an experienced predator he takes a deep breath, grounding himself as to not startle you further, lest you take flight.

"Please," he says softly, normally, waving his hands in a beckoning motion.

You realize the amount of power you hold over him right now. If you wanted, you could turn on your heel and walk away. You could name a price. You could throw the eggs on the ground and trample them flat, and he would be powerless to stop you.

But you don't. These eggs are innocent and vulnerable, and in front of you stands a sure-fire way to ensure that nothing will happen to them.

You still see Dren there despite the terror. You recognize his patience and fiercely protective nature, that’s been there with you every step of the way. Now, once again, working to keep everything he cares about safe.

You slowly make your way toward him. He’s staring at you almost like in a trance.

You had prepared to hand the eggs over once you reached him, but Dren slowly moves back, allowing you to pass through the carnage that used to be an entry point. Just watching with wide eyes. You’re not exactly sure what he expects you to do. But he hasn't stopped you, so you keep going.

You step across the alcove, and carefully place the eggs back to their right place in the middle of the room. Dren comes up next to you, and places the third next to them. In silence, he starts gently wrapping some of the ruined webbing over them again with his front legs. You move back to give him space to fuss over them.

You've barely taken a step before he rapidly turns, and suddenly lunges towards you. With his arms, he snatches you clean off the ground.

You can't hold back a small scream as you're suddenly in the air - this is it, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm so so dead - which Dren completely ignores, as he forcibly squeezes you against his torso in a bone-crushing embrace.

Your face is flattened against his fur-covered shoulder, your arms sprawled to the side in shock, legs dangling uselessly over the ground. You hardly dare breathe, not that the force currently pressuring your ribs allows for much lung expansion anyway.

Dren buries his face in the crook of your neck.

He's shaking.

"Thank you," he breathes, clutching you a bit tighter. "Thank you."

You dangle awkwardly in his arms, trying to calm your racing pulse, taking shuddering breaths. Oh. It would appear this is gratitude.

Gingerly, not really knowing what else to do, you wrap your arms around him in turn, and he shudders when you do so. He shifts then, and you feel yourself being leaned backwards, settled on his pedipalps. Your backside is leaning against the web-covered eggs, and his front legs curl around them, holding both you and them in place.

He holds you like that for a while. You let him cling to you, while he works through whatever it is he needs to work through to calm down after this experience.

You don't dare glance toward the mutilated corpses currently concealed behind the furred shoulder, your face is pressing against. You ignore the stains of crimson littering the space. There's nothing you can really say, so you settle for running your fingers through the hairs on the back of Dren’s neck in a soothing manner. A soft chitter suggests he likes it when you do that, at least.

"It's alright," you mutter softly, testing the waters. "They're safe."

"Safe," he repeats, nodding against your shoulder. “Safe.”

There’s a pause, and then Dren readjusts his hold a bit. You feel him tense, like preparing for an impact. He sucks in a breath before he speaks.

“Give me the winter,” he blurts hurriedly. Like he needed to get it out before it was too late. “Just the winter.”

You try to lean back and get a look at him, but his grip won’t let you move an inch away - as if he's afraid to let you go.

“What..?” you try as softly as you can. He’s getting agitated.

“Just until they hatch, until they can fend for themselves,” Dren elaborates, rushed words leaving him like rapid fire. “I’ll help you get back home, I promise, whatever you need, I'll do it. Just – please stay. Act as my sentry. Give me the winter.”

Supposedly it makes sense he would do this now, of all times. It would seem this is what it took to finally break him.

You lean further into him, if anything to silently let him know you're not just going up in thin air, so maybe his death-grip on you lessens a bit.

You sigh. "That's - but Dren, you know I'm not-"

"You're perfect," he states firmly, cutting you off. The tips of his fangs brush over your neck as he speaks. "You kept watch and called for me when it was needed - risked yourself to defend my young, despite them not being your responsibility - you've already done more than I could ever ask. I have no right, I know that, but I can't - If I lose anyone else-" he trails off in his rambling. "Please. Give me the winter."

It's not like you're actually much in a position to say 'no', but you don't really get the feeling Dren is thinking about that right now. Like your refusal means you're going to slip through his fingers, and vanish in an instant. As if he's not the one holding your only known key home. As if he's not perfectly capable of keeping you trapped here, if he so did desire.

But maybe his conviction in this ultimately being your choice means something - maybe that actually means everything.

You sense the remaining vulnerable eggs pressing against your backside, a faint reminder of what you did tonight. It seems it's wasn't really you who needed to move.

You’re already connected to them, aren’t you? How could you possibly leave everything behind? Not now. Not after all of this.

What's a few months of darkness as a price for keeping everyone you care about alive?

"Okay," you whisper, clutching him back. You can feel a pressure growing around you, like you’ve just used your entire body to pick up something heavy. It’s warm. "Okay, you can have my winter."

"I will let you go," Dren assures you firmly, speaking through his teeth. "It will hurt, I know it will, for both of us, but I vow to you, when all this is over, when we're all safe-"

"I know," you placate. "I trust you."

Dren breathes out, and with it leaves the tension in his body. He finally leans back to look at you again, and there are tears in black eyes. Carefully, gently, his hands reaches up to cup your face. You stare at him like you did earlier this very day and, once again, he effortlessly draws you in.

Because looking at him like this is nice. It’s really, really nice. You’re being enveloped in a warm blanket, soothing all worry you’ve ever had. You can feel a pull from him, coaxing you closer, something gently wrapping around you. Of course this will work, of course you’re in good hands here, of course Dren knows what’s best -

A sudden piercing pain shoots through you in retaliation, and you gasp, severing eye contact and instinctively trying to curl up to protect yourself. It's no use. The pain strikes your core, like a gun was fired from within. Something inside you heavily disagrees.

Dren hisses at the interruption and deftly pulls you to him again, like a futile attempt to shield you with his body. You can feel his formerly calm energy clouded in a protective fury, zeroing in on the interloper, surrounding it, grabbing it, strangling it.

You cry out. You can’t help it. The parasite’s pain is as much yours as it is its, and the agony is unbearable. It feels like your chest is being crushed, like your ribs can shatter and destroy your innards at any moment.

“I know, Sweetness, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, shh,” Dren soothes you, holding you against him with a hand over the back of your neck, keeping his grip on the parasite and angrily thwarting it.

It feels like forever you're in this pure world of pain, at some point you may have started begging for it to stop, only wishing dearly for everything to turn quiet, for it to be over. You can faintly hear reassurances and apologies in the foggy cloud of your consciousness, and something, someone, peers into your mind, feeling for a thread intertwining with the very core of your being.

Then, there’s a small release of pressure, like when you’ve finished tying the knot of a shoelace. At the end, you let it go, sitting neat and comfortably tight.

And then the pain is gone.

It’s like the hook trapping the fish suddenly disappearing from the fight. The struggle is over, leaving the fishing line there, suspended in the flowing water. Useless.

Dren’s breath is warm on your neck as he chitters and purrs to calm you, pedipalps and arms around you like both of his halves are checking on you at once. You just hold on to him, feeling an immense relief coursing through your body. The pressure is gone, leaving you sore, and completely exhausted. Vulnerable.

And you can feel him. Really, feel him.

Dren is everywhere around you, inside you, his energy twisting and turning in a strange dance. He’s happy. So, so happy. The overflowing emotion is infectious, and you struggle to hold in an odd strangled laugh full of sobs.

And it dawns on you now what you’ve just agreed to. What you’ve just accepted into your life. And, if what you’ve learned from the harpy is true, you’ve just acquired the qualifications for your new job as a sentry.

[rumbelleshowdown]

-

Moderator note: There will be only one fic posted for Groups G, H, and J. The other person in each of those groups dropped out.

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Author: Firefighter Barbie

Group: H

Prompts: Young Gideon AND Neal. Cat and mouse, cop!Belle. Hiding.

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Something Brave

Belle Gold stood with her back pressed to the wall as she caught her breath and changed the clip on her pistol. The call had come in just under nine hours ago and had given her and her husband two options. Option A: Bring a hundred grand to the Troll Bridge, and your kids live. Option B: Tell anyone about this, especially another cop, and you'll never see your kids again. She and Robert had chosen Option C: Hunt down the kidnappers, make them pay, and rescue their kids.

Peeking around the corner gave Belle a clear view of her children tied up with their backs to each other. They were in plain sight. She could reach them easily, but that would be giving the kidnappers what they wanted. She’d have to go about this a little trickier to ensure her children’s safety. She took a deep breath, noticing the way Neal held tight to Gideon’s hands through the ties. She knew Neal was old enough now at sixteen to protect himself and his brother if worse came to worst, but she wanted better for him. For all of them.

She caught Robert’s gaze across the hall – giving a rough nod to indicate where the children were. He took a peek and seemed to deflate at the kids’ roughened-up condition. She wanted to hug them too but most important was getting them out of there safely. Robert nodded and jerked his head to the other side — she followed his gaze. The kidnapper was no stranger to their family. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the captain of the Neverland Pirates, Killian Jones, and Robert’s ex wife, Milah.

“She always said she’d come back for me, but she never did.” Neal’s voice echoed in her mind. Neal had been four when Belle had adopted him and married his father. He’d given her away at the wedding. Now he was in danger, all because his biological mother had finally come back for him. She could see the tear tracks stained on his face. She made a fist against the barrel of the gun and told herself her job was to contain, not maim.

At least for Milah. Though it was tempting, Belle would not be responsible for ending her miserable life. That was her vow and concession to her oldest son.

Belle took a breath and holstered the gun in her boot. Maybe all Milah wanted was to scare her into leaving. Maybe if she played the game right, she could get the boys out before shots were fired. She risked a look at Robert who was making a motion with his hands above his throat. Don’t do that. 

If the plan were to protect Belle, Robert would have been right, but her safety came secondary to that of the children’s. “Milah.” She spoke confidently, feeling more afraid than she had the last time she’d stared down the barrel of a loaded gun. “You don’t need to do this. Neal wouldn’t want this.” She focused her attention on the brunette, trying not to make eye contact with Robert on her left. She had to keep him out of sight. She also was avoiding the look of her boys. She had to do this right so that she was keeping them safe. She stepped in front of them.

“Don’t talk to me about what Neal would want. You poisoned him against me, harpy,” Milah snapped, Killian looking on with a sharp smile that showed all of his teeth. Or at least - the remaining ones.

“He doesn’t need to see this.” Belle insisted, “I brought the money, Milah. You can let them go.” She threw out a bag on the floor, and it slid against the concrete with a whoosh.

“Where’s Robert?” Killian asked. He made no movement to grab the bag. Belle swallowed the urge to reach for her boys and get them out of here.

“He’s probably run away,” Milah taunted. “Lord knows he’s not man enough to come here.”

Belle schooled her facial expression after a millisecond. “He’s on his way. Are the boys okay?”

“They’re fine.” Killian interjected. “No worse for wear, right lads?” He leaned against Milah, looking sideways at the boys.

Gideon squirmed and tried to shout. Neal held fast to his brother’s hand and told him to stay quiet. Belle could see his knee was scraped through the jeans and saw red for a second before she had to remind herself to calm down.

She could be a mom in a minute when they were safe. Right now, she had to be a cop.

Killian took a step forward, Milah close on his heels. It was like a game of cat and mouse. Belle wasn’t sure who was who. She didn’t care. All that mattered was getting her boys home in time for bed.

“Take the money,” Belle said. “Let me get the boys.”

“Sensible choice, lass.” Killian scowled. “Not very fun, but I can see being with Ol' Gold wouldn’t give you much room for fun in your life. Milah, get the bag.”

Belle took two steps backwards, closer to the boys. “Neal,” she said in a low voice. “The restraints, are they loose enough to run?”

Neal gave a very small nod. Gideon whimpered. “Mama, where’s Papa?”

“When I say so, I want you to take Gideon and run down the left hallway.” Belle continued carefully, having to pretend as if she wasn’t listening to Gideon. Milah was closer to the bag now. Belle took a deep breath. “Three seconds from the end of this sentence, loosen your restraints in one hand. Keep together. Stay in the hall until we get you.”

Neal glanced to the right. He’d been in his Taekwondo classes for a long enough time that he knew not to give his position away. Gideon wasn’t as advanced yet, but Neal would protect his brother. He had to. He loosened the restraints in his right arm, and slowly slid the hand out. Belle shouted, “Now! GO.” And he was off, running to the left with Gideon dragging behind him. Milah grabbed the bag, and Killian backed up. His gun fired a warning shot in the air.

Robert grabbed the boys on the left side of the hall. Belle took her gun out of her boots and aimed it at Milah directly. “Milah Jones, Killian Jones, you’re both under arrest for kidnapping two minors.”

“The bag’s full of newspaper, not cash,” Milah shouted to Killian. Killian started to sprint, but Robert aimed his gun at Killian’s foot. Shot him in the leg, and he doubled over in pain, wailing.

“Nice shot Papa!” Neal cheered, watching as Milah’s eyes widened in shock. “Neal?” Her eyes filled with tears as Belle got up behind her, cuffing her. Milah didn’t move, betrayal written on her face. Belle hid her snicker.

Gideon launched into Robert’s arms, and no sooner did Belle snap the second cuff closed on Milah that Neal yelled out, “Mom!” Milah smirked as the boy raced in her direction, but it turned into a sneer when he ignored her and embraced Belle. “I’ve got you baby. We’re here now,” Belle promised, murmuring words of sweet affection for her son as she buried her face in his mess of brown curls. She looked up, made eye contact with Milah. “It takes more than giving birth to someone to be their mom. You have to love them more than you love yourself, something I don’t think you are capable of.”

-

[harpysongs]

Btw if anyone has any mask, gear, or quadrobic content that focuses on mythic creatures or non mammals, especially reptiles, birds, and dinosaurs youre so welcome to send them to me

[jozor-johai]

some thoughts on identity as a motif in asoiaf. feel free to add on!

mostly just thinking about this because of how anything in asoiaf gains meaning from continued repetition, so it's interesting to keep track of these things, and see how different approaches to the same idea give more depth to the meaning.

Sometimes, these ideas are so similar that people create theories to argue that they are literally the same character. I think most "secret identity" theories are often misinterpretations of thematic parallels; yes, these characters have a lot in common thematically, but it does not need to be the case that they are literally the same character.

However, I recognize that playing with identity is its own motif in ASOIAF, so some thoughts:

Jon Snow's false identity; Young Griff's false identity, along with his whole party: Griff, the mysterious Septa Lemore, Duck, etc. Quentyn Martell (also a prince!) and his assumed identity, also in Essos, along with his entire party posing as sellswords. Barristan Selmy posing as Arstan Whitebeard. Alleras / Sarella. Asha pretending to be Esgred. Mance being glamoured as Rattleshirt, and later Mance as Abel. Varys as Rugen, and his other disguises. Ramsay Snow posing as Reek, and later Theon being forced to become Reek by Ramsay. And Theon-as-Reek "pretending" to be Theon again.

Which brings me to the chapter titles: identity is such a strong motif that it is also communicated in a structural way through the chapter titles, which begin to describe the characters rather than name them, or else take on the assumed name of the POV character.

Theon becomes Reek and the chapters reflect that. As he escapes the notion of Reek, the chapter titles reflect his changing identity. Sansa loses her identity, becoming Alayne, which is reflected in the chapter titles. Victarion goes in the opposite direction; he is the Iron Captain, the Reaver, and the Iron Suitor before his last chapter title becomes Victarion. Arya's identity changes as early as the second book, becoming Arry aka Lumpyhead, then Weasel, then Nan, then Squab, then Salty. Then she joins the Faceless Men, who heavily question the notion of identity, and cause Arya to question her notions of identity as a major plot device. Arya's chapter titles become Cat of the Canals, the Blind Girl, the Ugly Little Girl. We also get insight into other character's sense of identity, as well, even if they never get a chapter of their own name.

Plenty more to be said about the chapter titles, I'm sure, but Arya brings us to the Faceless Men, and Jaqen -> the Alchemist -> Pate, as far as we know.

On the topic of "anonymous organizations", there's the mystery of the identity of the Harpy, and the issue with the anonymity of the Sons of the Harpy, as well as, arguably, the equal issue with the anonymity of the Brazen Beasts (as the Shavepate is able to infiltrate his personal men into their ranks secretly).

Some identities that fundamentally change with death: Catelyn becoming Lady Stoneheart, and "Robert Strong", assuming he was the Mountain originally.

Beric feels like he's losing his sense of self with each time he dies, which is interesting because as that happens more and more of the Brotherhood Without Banners pretend to be Beric—he loses himself at the same rate his person becomes a symbol instead of a man. Also fitting for the Brotherhood Without Banners—no banners means without an identity in the way that most of Westeros conceives of it.

Because one's banners are their identity. Lannisters are "Lions" and Starks become "wolves" and there is a need to distinguish between wolves on two legs and wolves on four. The Tyrells are "roses" complete with thorns. "Dragons" refers to Targaryens just as often as it refers to actual dragons if not more. Obviously this continues ad infinitum.

And insofar as House names are identity, there is the voluntary renunciation of identity when becoming a Maester and losing one's last name, or taking the Black and forsaking one's familial ties, or to a lesser extent joining the Kingsguard and renouncing one's claim to lands. All of these are a loss of identity; one might argue that exile is a forced loss of identity in the same vein.

Which makes the Golden Company especially interesting, because they claim Westerosi names but without any real need to back them up with lineage.

And there are other voluntarily assumed identities that are not necessarily meant to be disguise, just self-chosen names. Bards often are specified as taking on stage names of a sort, like Rymund the Rhymer, Symon Silvertongue, and Tom Sevenstrings aka Tom of Sevenstreams aka Tom o'Sevens. Lem Lemoncloak. Cersei is especially bothered by the idea that the "Blue Bard" is really just a smallfolk man named Wat.

The "High Sparrow" might be more like a stage name, more important as the symbol of an identity than as a person. "The Hound" is also like a stage name, and the mystery of the Hound raiding Saltpans shows how the identity of the Hound can be separated from Sandor Clegane himself. Interesting that Lem, who already has a sort of second identity, will don the Hound over that in WINDS.

There is the mystery of identity even when assumed names are not into play, as with the Kettleblacks; they mystery of who they are and where they come from is important even without fake names (as far as we know).

Then there is the identity as reflected in prophecy. Melisandre sees a girl who she thinks is Jon's sister but then Alys Karstark appears. Melisandre sees Renly attacking Stannis' host at the Blackwater who turns out to be Loras in Renly's armor. Arguably, this applies to the symbol-identities we get: we understand that someone "is" the Mummer's Dragon, we understand that someone is the "giant" that Sansa will slay.

The "Three Eyed Crow" might be part of this category, and the idea of an assumed "dream identity". Maybe the weirwoods and warging are more identity-issues; Varamyr talks about how wargs take on the animal characteristics—so warging itself is about identity, too.

Which is then doubly potent with Hodor, who is a whole person that Bran is stealing the identity of.

There are tons and tons more but this is just a collection of thoughts on the idea.

[kinderartifact4]

First post on my Magic AU! Someone was interested in it, so, before I start on answering that ask I thought I’d post the species I’ve assigned to the characters for now. Just the hosts, gen 1 cast, and Emma & Kitty for now. Quite a few of them don’t have additional info because I couldn’t think of anything significant.

Questions? Comments? Concerns?

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Chris & Chef- Humans

+Chris still hosts TD

+They’re both pretty much the exact same

+Chris is a little bit nicer though

Blaineley- Human

Don- Human

Josh- Human

Noah- Angel

+Burrowing Owl Wings

+Mage (very skilled in magic)

+Telekinetic

+Dated Cody after WT, but he broke it off due to religious backlash.

+He knows how to speak demon

Cody- Ajror Demon

+Blue Jay Wings

+Genetic magic, like all demons

+Deathly afraid of Driders, specifically the giant variety, so Phobia Factor definitely plays out differently for him

+He got the Cone of Shame during World Tour

+The whole “mauled by a bear” thing happens a bit differently; that bear was also fighting for it’s life, it was an equal opportunity mauling

+Tried so hard to court Noah during action and WT, but he didn’t do so well because he tried to be somewhat subtle this time around but Noah didn’t know what demon courting customs looked like so it flew right over his head.

+Cody was the one who kickstarted the revolution that lead to the war.

+His mother’s side of the family is Ajror nobility, so by default Cody is also nobility.

Emma & Kitty- Angels

+Magpie Wings

+Emma knows how to use a sword

+Kitty knows basic healing magic

+Emma and Jake’s break up played out differently in this AU

+To put it short, he was a specist prick who made it very clear he thought Emma looked better without her wings (for context, an Angel without their wings looks exactly like a human)

+Emma definitely still had her own flaws, but still

Eva- Satyr

Izzy- Halfbreed

+3/4 Demon, 1/4 Naga

+Tokë Demon(plant variety)

+One thing she got from being part Naga is her sense of smell; she can track people kinda like a bloodhound

Heather- Drider

+Magical knowledge is limited to making herself look more human

+Glamour magic, if you will

+Wild-Born

+She basically domesticated herself

+Type of venom is non-lethal, aka paralyzing

+She HAD siblings when she was little

Alejandro- Human

+Doesn’t have magic during the show, but discovers he has a magic ability known as “leeching” during the war

Sierra- Human

Duncan- Neko

+Lives up to his species ‘thief’ stereotype

+Really good at what he does too

Gwen- Naga

+Wild-Born

+Still claustrophobic, which is ironic because wild nagas typically live in burrows

+Uses glamour magic to make herself look more human

Owen- Naga

+Not Wild-Born

+Uses glamour magic

Trent- Mer

+Siren subspecies

+Uses magic through singing, but can also channel it through instruments

Bridgette- Mer

Justin- Elf

Ezekiel- Harpy

+Nobody likes him that much because of how his species is viewed, Noah especially

+Tries too hard to show he’s nothing like how his kind is depicted

DJ- Human

Courtney- Human

Leshawna- Human

Geoff- Human

Harold- Human

+No magic, typical human

+However he knows a lot about the other species customs and cultures and such

Tyler- Satyr

Lindsay- Faun

Beth- Human

Katie- Mer

Sadie- Mer

+Lion fish

[theladyofshalott1989]

Writing Prompt #2: Poppy Sweeting x Imelda Reyes

Thanks to @celestial--sapphic for providing the second prompt:

Poppy attending one of Imelda's Quidditch matches

Poppy Sweeting x Imelda Reyes

Word Count: 1328

Rating: Teen

[ AO3 link ] ✨✨✨

Poppy’s first Quidditch match as Imelda’s paramour was going exactly as expected. Splendidly. Imelda was in top-form, directing her teammates confidently, as the Slytherin Quidditch Captain should, and chasing her opponents with a singular focus, like a Hungarian Horntail pursuing its prey. 

Now, if only Poppy knew more about Quidditch…

Seated in the stands with her fellow Hufflepuffs, sporting a very conspicuous Slytherin scarf that drew some pointed glances - though she couldn’t have cared less, especially since Hufflepuff wasn’t even playing today - she tilted her head back, squinting against the sun’s harsh rays. There, amidst the whirl of the other players, she watched Imelda soar by on her broom, a vision of grace and finesse, her ebony ponytail trailing behind her. 

Poppy sighed wistfully. And to think, just yesterday afternoon she had been straddling Imelda on her broom as Imelda deftly maneuvered one of her old broom trial courses from their fifth year, the year Professor Black banned Quidditch. It had been quite a remarkable experience, the wind in her hair, her body pressed tightly against Imelda’s lithe but muscular frame. Poppy didn’t doubt that one day Imelda would realize her dream of joining the ranks of the Holyhead Harpies. She was that good, and oh so passionate. 

Her attention was diverted by raucous cheering coming from the Slytherins in the stands across the way. While it seemed like Slytherin was winning, Poppy couldn’t exactly say for sure. She was too distracted by Imelda’s outrageously talented self, and, well, to be totally honest, Gerald the Puffskein, who was currently squirming around on her lap. In fact, he was humming very loudly, so loudly that Poppy was worried that someone might overhear. She technically wasn’t supposed to have taken him out of Professor Howin’s class, but she couldn’t help it! He had seemed down and she thought a rousing Quidditch match might cheer him up. 

Fortunately, Professor Howin was seated among the other professors in a stand further down the way. There was no chance they’d be spotted together. Unless…

A Bludger streaked across her field of vision, and then, in an unexpected turn of events, zipped back directly from whence it came. The crowd erupted into startled cries and gasps of alarm as they ducked down. Poppy followed suit, shielding Gerald beneath her, her reaction slightly delayed but thankfully swift enough to avoid a potentially deadly blow.

Well, Quidditch was quite exhilarating, that was for certain. Poppy hadn’t been entirely sure, this having been only her second game ever, the first having been back in her first year. She hadn’t found her first particularly thrilling, so she hadn’t bothered attending any more matches since. But now, she had a reason to be here, and a captivating one at that. The mere thought of Imelda caused her cheeks to flush. 

As Poppy regained her composure, adjusting herself back into a comfortable seated position, she whispered, “Are you okay, Gerald?” Gerald remained in her lap, covered in a blanket she’d brought specifically for him to ensure he didn’t catch a chill in the crisp fall air. He wiggled in her lap, snuffling at her hand. “Alright, you.” Poppy pulled a treat out of her pocket and offered it to him. As expected, he gobbled it up immediately.

Poppy soon lost track of time entirely. Tending to an adorably mischievous Puffskein would do that. Every so often she’d steal a glance at Imelda, only to be preoccupied once more with Gerald. She vaguely registered the sound of more cheering, although she couldn’t pinpoint its origin, and then, before she knew it, her classmates began bustling around her, scooting past her as they exited the Quidditch pitch. 

Was the game over already? Who won? Imelda would certainly expect her to know who won, wouldn’t she? Merlin! She should have paid better attention. 

“See this crowd? All my doing,” Poppy heard before Imelda stumbled into view before her, a bit unsteady on her feet. Imelda’s grace on a broom didn’t always seem to extend to solid ground. Poppy suppressed a smile. She would never say so aloud, but she found this quirk oddly endearing.

“You’ve got good flying technique, I’ll give you that,” Poppy teased, lifting Gerald, blanket and all, and cradling him gently in her left arm as she rose to her feet.

“Hello, Gerald,” Imelda said, tugging on the strap of her broom across her shoulder. “Dare I ask?”

“He wanted to go on an adventure!”

“And did he enjoy himself?”

Poppy flashed Imelda a coy smile. “Hmm, perhaps,” she replied. How long could she delay Imelda from finding out she wasn’t quite certain who won the match? A minute? Five?

“Hmph,” Imelda huffed, placing a hand on her cocked hip. “And you? What did you think?”

Poppy weighed her options. Realizing she had a fifty-fifty chance, she decided it was worth the risk. “A well-won victory, I must say,” she ventured, resisting the urge to cross her fingers behind her back. 

At first, Imelda remained stoic, giving away nothing. She was a stubborn mask of solemnity. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed. It was a glorious turn of expression that warmed Poppy to her core. 

“Not bad, for a Hufflepuff,” Imelda finally said.

“Hmm?” Poppy questioned, trying her best to play it cool.

“You were too distracted by Gerald, weren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her cheeks warmed, presumably flushing, which would inevitably betray her lie.

Imelda surprised Poppy yet again with a playful smirk. “Honestly, some people should be re-Sorted. And you were correct, by the way. We won. Good guess.” 

Poppy let loose a shy smile. “You’re not cross with me?” she asked, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand.

“Maybe a little,” Imelda admitted. “But this was only the first match of many. I fully expect you to make it up to me.”

“Oh?” 

“And now you can’t say no to my next suggestion.”

Poppy raised a brow. “Your next suggestion?”

“It’s about time you got your own broom.”

“A broom? But I have Highwing!”

“And that’s all well and good, but Highwing needs a rest every once in a while.” 

Poppy glanced down at Gerald who had fallen asleep in the crook of her arm. “Let’s say I agree with you. What’s in it for me?” she teased.

Imelda grinned. Her brown eyes twinkled mischievously in the sunlight. “You. Me. In the air. Flying side by side.” 

“Oh, I don’t know…I’m not much of a flier.”

“If you’re worried about technique, don’t be. I’ll make you better, don’t you worry.”

Poppy brought a hand to her chin in mock contemplation. She took a breath. “Alright, it’s a date. When do we start?”

Imelda swiftly pulled her broom out from behind her back and straddled it. She gestured for Poppy to join her. “We start now. I’ll take you to Spintwitches.” 

Poppy chuckled. “Why’d I even ask?” she muttered, mostly to herself. “Gerald,” she said, shaking her arm gently. “Are you up for another adventure?” He opened one eye, made a movement with his head that seemed like an assent, and then snuggled back into her chest. She’d ensure she kept a firm hold on him in the air. 

Giving Imelda a curt nod, she said, “Gerald says yes.”

“Oh good, if Gerald says so.” 

“Hold on, not so fast.” Poppy strode purposefully forward. She didn’t give Imelda time to react before smacking a kiss on her perfect lips. 

Once she stepped back, she reveled in Imelda’s wide-eyed stare. “What was that for?” Imelda asked.

“Does a girl need an excuse to kiss her ladylove?”

“Pfft, hardly,” Imelda replied, a fleeting hint of affection softening her features before her customary mask of seriousness settled back into place. “Now pop on, Hufflepuff. I’m not the patient sort.”

Poppy did as commanded, tamping down her sudden urge to snog the living daylights out of Imelda. There would be time for that later. Yes, later.

[almightyhamslice]

Stage 2-5, Pitch Mama's stage!

Pitch has gotten lost again, swept away by strong underwater currents after a mishap with some Squishys. He nearly drowned! Fortunately for him, Kine is adept at swimming against currents and has come to his rescue with Kirby and Gooey in tow.

Kine helps Gooey and Kirby navigate through the stage's underwater caves, but he must eventually leave them so they can free Pitch (cuz you can only have one animal friend at once). Before they separate, Kine seals Pitch in a bubble so he can breathe underwater (he's just a little guy! He can't hold his breath that long). The currents are strong and there are so many Gordos in the sea! Gooey swims ahead, pulling Kirby along with him with his tongue. It's very dicey, Kirby's afraid Pitch's bubble will pop!

In the end, Pitch is finally reunited with his mom! And she's so glad to see him again. Her canon name is Pitch Mama but I call her Picchi because it has a similar feel (it's just the Japanese name for Pitch) but its more of a proper name since her canon name is more of a descriptor. She and Pitch are very close, but she initially lost him after he learned to fly-- he's such a fast flier on his own and he's so tiny! She lost track of him! Picchi is a harpy just like he is, but she can transform into a human sized bird rather than a. bird sized. bird. you know what I mean LOL.

Regarding Gooey, you may wonder why he's fine sitting with his head underwater in the fourth image. His biology is... very strange. Because Dark Matter is a primarily space dwelling species, Gooey doesn't actually breathe. That's also why he has no inhale and merely uses his tongue to grab enemies. So when underwater, Gooey isn't really concerned about himself, but he is worried about Kirby and Pitch and wants to get them out as soon as possible. I guess this is a real character development moment for Gooey! They'd be screwed without him I think?

Fun fact, I almost died in this level when I played it! Which would've been terrible and it would've meant I would have to start aaaalllll over again since I would've lost Pitch! I also played it singleplayer, and that's why there's a Stone Kine drawing. I'm sure I've mentioned that I play this game in singleplayer before-- Gooey isn't REALLY there but I want him to be in these illustrations because he is very important to the story!! and to me. Gooey Is The Key To All Of This.

[newsalvations]

leo woodall, bisexual + biromantic, cis man + he/him → isn’t that oswald “oz” michaels? i’ve seen them hanging out with the sirens. i hear they’re twenty-eight, but they’ve only been in alexandria for their entire life. they seem to be whimsical & alluring, but also unstable & cruel.

BASIC INFORMATION

full name: oswald gage michaels

nickname(s): oz, ozzie

age: twenty-eight

date of birth: august 10

hometown: alexandria, louisiana

current location: alexandria, louisiana

species: siren

ethnicity: white

nationality: american

gender: cis man

pronouns: he/him

orientation: bisexual + biromantic

occupation: lead singer of tbd band

living arrangements: at the chateau

language(s): english

accent: lousiaian

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

face claim: leo woodall

hair color: auburn

eye color: blue

height: 6'2"

weight: 154 lb

build: athletic

tattoos: a siren on both of his arms; various others

usual expression: devilish grin

distinguishing characteristics: his smile, his bright eyes

PERSONALITY

positive traits: whimsical, alluring, confident

negative traits: unstable, cruel, spiteful

myers brigg: esfp

zodiac sign: leo

element: fire

enneagram: the individualist

temperament: choleric

hogwarts house: slytherin

moral alignment: chaotic neutral

primary vice: wrath

primary virtue: generosity

fears: losing his voice, dying again

hobbies: singing

FAMILY

father: toby michaels

mother: charlotte michaels

sibling(s): aren michaels, one other brother

pet(s): none

FAVORITES

weather: rainy

season: winter

color: black

music: emo / punk rock / alternative

movies: comedy / horror

beverage: beer

food: burgers

animal: dolphins

NSFW

preference: vers top, dominant

kinks: breeding, rough sex, dom/sub, control in/out of bedroom, lingerie, open to others

anti kinks: scat, vomit, blood play, etc

BIOGRAPHY

oz grew up in a fairly normal and happy human household. they knew about the supernatural and seemed to get along with everyone. oz was the sweetheart country boy who played for his high schools football team and went to church every day. nobody could truly hate him, or so he thought.

at the age of sixteen, he was invited to a kickback in the woods with a few of the other kids from his school. what he didn't know was that a group of witches planned on sacrificing him for some blood pact that they needed. although they tried to muffle his screams, it burned him back to life with a rage he'd never experienced before.

the witches realized what they did and quickly began to scatter, he'd eventually track them all down and brutally killed them one by one until he burned the leader alive in the same place he'd been sacrificed.

after that, he knew he wasn't the same. giving up football and church, oz discovered that his voice was even more beautiful than it'd been before. he had always been talented at singing but it was different now and he decided to abandon his life to persue music. without a word to his parents, oz left in the middle of the night to california where he'd form a band of sirens, banshees, and harpies; quickly got the attention of record labels who ended up fighting over them.

the bands freshman album was an overnight success, people were almost hypnotized by his voice and he grew a loyal but rabid fanbase. he'd find his way into the beds of married men, from hollywood execs to fans of his. he didn't care.

the band released more albums as time went on, becoming a mainstream success despite the numerous controversies they found themselves in. oz was known as a heartbreaker and various accidents began to follow the bands name, including the deaths of those who knew them personally and fans. the biggest scandal was when one of oz's biggest fans was found with his husbands dead body in their bed and people believed the man did it to try and win oz's affection. little did any of them know that oz specifically told this fan that killing his husband was the only way to prove his love for him.

after this, their record label was furious and wanted the band to clean up their image. something oz wasn't interested in. he still had a desire to burn the world down, no matter what the costs were. they agreed to leave the spotlight for the time being, work on a new album, and maybe rebuild their image.

he's been back in alexandria for a few months now and the itch to destroy more marriages and couples is still getting to him, now that he can't do it to his pool of fans.