#requests CLOSED

[zealfruity]

If you are still open to requests I would love to see a bone crushing hug for your favorite clone brothers? Maybe one still wearing full kit and another losing the bucket? Love your take on them!

I'm sorry i couldn't figure out the pose so assume the bucket is already on the floor hehe

I just think they're silly and very tragic, good characters

Also a hug between rex and echo, which I think should've happened in Battle Scars instead of Hunter going to talk to Rex. Where is my rex and echo hug Dave:

[stephreynaart]

Could we see some Ford and Stan comfort? Preferably something along the lines of one of them having a nightmare and just talking it out with the other! (or not, I'm down for anything honestly 😭)

Somehow forgot to post this one last night before I went to bed

We love our comfort bros

[pukefactory]

This is simply a thought swimming through the great sea of conciousness, a whole nothingburger, one may even say. but... the existance of multiple ENAs is canon... do you imagine that some ENAs can bump into eachother and simply just greet eachother and then bid eachother farewell? is the reaction negative? positive? more??? All ENAs share something in common, that they all are ENA, beings in a world that dont... view them fondly. Surely, in such an existance, some ENAs handle it better than others, some (Such as Salesperson ENA) can simply drift down the river, buisness is buisness after all, even if the customer views you as an annoying thing, while some other ENA... well, dosent. Its a fascinating thought... ah, right, a pointless conclusion. Salesperson ENA / Meanie ENA comforting an ENA who very much struggles with simply being an ENA would be a tad bit sweet, something to chew on for a picosecond.

🎣

This is one of those scenarios that could lead to various outcomes, both beneficial and detrimental. In my view, considering that every time we see an ENA they appear alone, it suggests they are a solitary species that tends to avoid others of their kind. More specifically, I believe their behavior may resemble that of cheetahs. In the wild, female cheetahs are independent to the point that encountering another of their species can overwhelm them due to a lack of social exposure. Similarly, I imagine that if one ENA were to come across another, they would likely steer clear of interaction unless circumstances required cooperation. Since there doesn’t appear to be a significant drawback to this isolation, it’s possible the ENA species naturally evolved with this trait.

[vvickydisc]

Ohh I would really like to see more of the attached au ribbons !! Your art is amazing btw it always make my day😭💗

tysm anon!!!!

[emeritusemeritus]

I'm sorry but I don't know English and I'm using a translator to write you this

you could write (it's not mandatory) where Weasley twins are unfaithful to their girlfriend with another Gryffindor student and do everything to have their forgiveness, thank you🥺

My dear Anon, thank you so much for your incredible request. I hope you don’t mind that I changed a few things around whilst trying to stay true to your request. This idea came to me and I couldn’t leave it alone. Hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: cheating!fic, themes of unfaithful behaviour and betrayal. Swearing. Sorry Angelina, I’m sure you’re lovely but I needed a villain. Amortentia, drugging using a love potion. Friends are lied to and used. Fuck you Marcus Flint.

Word count: 4.8k

Song for writing: Lachryma by Ghost🖤

Crying over someone like you [Weasley Twins x Reader]

If you hadn't seen it with your own eyes, you'd have never believed it.

George Weasley, one half of the Weasley twin duo and one of your boyfriends of over three years. His figure, so tall and resolute lingered in the corridor adjacent to the great hall, his posture bent and his hair characteristically vibrant and messy. His clothes were oddly matched, a contrast of faded colour and interesting patterns and textures, snuggly fitted around the ankles. His freckled cheeks flushed with colour, his long eyelashes kissing those very cheeks as he stands with his eyes closer, his full pink lips pursed and kissing Daphne Greengrass.

You felt like you'd been cursed on the spot stumbling upon the pair locking lips in the corridor, neither of them even trying to hide their intimacy. If you hadn't been with Fred, your other boyfriend, you would have completely fallen apart in that moment, rendered silent and heartbroken by your discovery. Luckily for you, Fred had not frozen at seeing the scene but had instead leapt into action, dropping your hand and instantly lunging towards his twin, pulling him away from a seemingly unbothered Daphne.

You didn't know what followed Fred's initial reaction, despite the multitude of rumours floating around the school, as you had fled the scene in floods of tears, feeling sickened to your core.

The days following the incident you'd wanted to isolate yourself completely but your friends had not allowed that to happen and instead had remained by your side at all times with unwavering support. Fred had tried to help you, to put a smile of your face and assure you that he was still very much here and in love with you regardless of his idiot brother but he'd been put in an impossible position torn between his twin brother and his girlfriend.

George had been silent. He hadn't attempted to talk to you or make contact, neither did he acknowledge you at all in the days that followed. He couldn't even respect you enough to end the relationship in any way. After over three years together in what you thought was the kind of love that never faltered, he couldn't even explain himself or his actions. You'd expected a message passed along in some way with a half-hearted excuse of why he no longer loved you, if he ever had. Your thoughts spiralled when no communication came, your mind trying to process what had happened and beginning to try to understand how. Had he ever loved you? How had you not seen the signs that his eye was wandering?

The fact was that there were no signs. Only the day before he had been his usual self, as tactile and loving as he ever was. He'd told you that he loved you the day before you'd found him kissing Daphne Greengrass and you'd never questioned it, seeing nothing but honesty in his eyes. That's what hurt the most.

Rumours of what happened had reached nearly every corner of the school within hours, most notably the now infamous fight between the two twins which had never happened before. Following that, the brothers were no longer on speaking terms and they had not been spotted together once since their spat- the longest they had ever gone without speaking.

The other rumour circulating with just as much scandal was that Daphne Greengrass was feverishly denying that it had ever happened in the first place. Apparently the rumour of her kissing George, a Gryffindor and a Weasley no less was rather upsetting to her and she'd declared her truth loudly and tearfully to anyone that mentioned it; not that you cared in the slightest of her apparent upset.

Fred was a wreck, ghosted by his twin brother and alone for the first time in his life without his constant sidekick. George had disappeared on him, choosing to spend his time anywhere but around either you or Fred. It was like he'd disappeared completely.

That was until your second run in with George and Daphne, both of them walking up the path back from the Quidditch pitch, hand in hand and chuckling secretively to each other. Thankfully this time Fred wasn't with you but would have already been at the quidditch practice, an ominous thought if he'd seen the couple together already. You tried to keep your head down and avoid them, feeling sick to your stomach at the sight of them so evidently in love.

Not a word was spoken and though you tried to resist looking towards the boy you'd loved for years, you couldn't help but peak hopefully at him as you passed. There was nothing. Not even a single glance of recognition in his face and certainly no remorse. He couldn't even spare you the common courtesy of a glance or a greeting, never mind an apology.

Once they had passed you, you paused on the pathway. George looked different somehow, though you couldn't put your finger on it initially. His clothes did not fit in the same way they usually did and they looked different, more vibrant, newer. You frowned and vowed yourself to carry on walking, the notion perplexing you the whole way to the quidditch pitch where you had been meeting Fred after practice.

When you finally reached the pitch feeling shaken and your heartbreak renewed, all havoc had broken loose. Fred was prowling the pitch like a caged animal, anger evident in his face and his body, muscles tense and his fists clenching and unclenching. Katie, Alicia and Ron were all stood around trying to talk sense into Fred but it was clearly not working once bit. You didn't know where to start, what to say or do to make him calm down, assuming you knew where his anger had stemmed from.

Luckily, Iain Claverdon, the sweet and slightly dense resident benchwarmer of the Gryffindor quidditch team spotted you standing off to the side and strolled over, urging you to come help.

"He saw George and that girl, went mad at him but George didn't even look at him! I mean I know they're brothers and all but that's not right. I don't know what's got into George's head lately, I mean he's even misplaced his quidditch robes. Can you believe it? Luckily I had a spare set to lend him but after she turned up he just walked off! First Angelina's not here and then he just walks out, shocking! Guess I won't be seeing those robes again."

"Y/n!"

You heard your name called and flashed your eyes up, seeing Alicia ushering you over with much more urgency than Iain had. Your legs moved almost on autopilot as you walked towards your boyfriend and friends, your head spinning from the overload of information Iain had given you. George had left mid-practice and lost his robes? There's no way your George would have ever done that, he loved Quidditch more than anything.

"Y/n, we can't calm him down," Katie says, meeting you halfway and practically dragging you by the wrist as she jogs over to where Fred is still pacing.

"Maybe you could try," Alicia says once you get closer. "He won't listen to any of us, George was being a right prick."

Fred had practically crushed you when he saw you, pulling you into his chest, your face pressed against the leather ties of his robes. His goggles were practically suffocating you as they hung around his neck, long forgotten, his padded arms holding you tightly into his body. It had taken nearly five minutes to calm him down but he'd eventually relented. You could see how much this was all affecting him, the bomb that had been thrown into your life and the consequences you were both dealing with after too much for Fred to deal with whilst trying to keep his head above water. Though you had lost your boyfriend and your best friend, Fred had lost his literal other half. You could see the strain it put on him, how lost he was without George around and how hard it was to accept this new much less caring version of George you were seeing.

"Shut up Iain!" You heard Katie snip as you walked back to the group with a much calmed Fred by your side, his arm never leaving your body.

"I'm just saying!" Iain says with a shrug.

"What?" You asked once you reached the group, seeing Katie and Alicia shooting glares at Iain whilst struggling to shut away the box of equipment.

"Some slytherins have had their belongings go walkabouts. Between Luna's shoes going missing again, Ang missing practice, the Slytherin thief and all the rest of it, I'm starting to think there's something fishy happening around here."

"Don't be an idiot Iain," Katie said rolling her eyes.

"Hey guys, I'm really sorry I missed practice. Couldn't get out of detention this time, I swear Professor Sprout knows we're going to demolish Hufflepuff at the next match and shes playing dirty," Angelina said as she came into view, holding her hands up as she talked with a smile on her face. You frowned again, noticing that she wasn't actually remorseful despite her words, neither was she as furious as you would have expected her to be about the captain of the team being forced to miss practice, especially this close to a vital match.

"Oi Johnson! It's our time on the pitch so you lot'll have to scramble," Marcus Flint sneered as he walked onto to the pitch, his green quidditch robes billowing as he walked, holding his broom and flanked by the entire Slytherin quidditch team.

"Let's get going," Angelina said to her team, apparently listening to Flint for the first time ever.

"Fred, I need to borrow you." She gestures with her head, turning towards your boyfriend who simply nodded, both of them slipping behind the curtain so that they could talk in private.

Your interest piqued once again, feeling slightly on edge by how weird everything felt now. George's deceit had really played a number on your mind, making you question everything around you. Everything felt wrong somehow, out of place, like you couldn't trust anyone or see things clearly. Perhaps it was the torment of the heartbreak consuming you and creating a fog around you but everything just felt off, your life turning into a series of strange encounters.

Things only got weirder once Thursday rolled around, five days after you'd seen George kiss Daphne for the first time and your heart had been stamped on.

It was around 8pm and whilst most of the school was beginning to wind down from their activities and settle in for the night, Marcus Flint had other plans. The note he'd acquired earlier that day had given him such a rush of fresh excitement that he knew there would be no way he could settle down until well after midnight. He'd dutifully slipped out of the Slytherin common room and had weaved his way around the school without any detection, traipsing the long walk to the quidditch pitch alone, carrying his singular bag. There's a spring in his step at the very thought of what was to come, these little meetings the highlights of his week as he walks to the rendezvous spot. He steps into the tent at the rear of the quidditch stadium, the near darkness making it harder to locate as he stumbles around the laid out benches. He's in enemy territory here, looking at the chalkboard with a plan of the pitch, a few defensive notes and names of the Gryffindor team written across the board haphazardly, pleased he had managed to find the Gryffindor tent so easily. If his head were in the right place, he'd consider taking notes of their defensive strategies and double down on them during the next match but he can't bring himself to care enough. Lately, he'd found himself unable to concentrate on his school work or even Quidditch at all, his mind fixated upon a single thought. And so what if he lost a few matches this season? She was worth it.

Daphne Greengrass was a goddess amongst women. The type of girl any man would be proud to have e hanging on his arm. To look at her was to see a constellation of stars, so blinding in their beauty it rendered everything around them insignificant. He was in love with her, body and soul and he'd do anything for a chance with her.

"Marcus," the voice called out to him softly, that beautiful feminine voice that he could only compare to the sound of an angel's own song.

He whipped around at the sound, desperate to know that it wasn't just his imagination, legs quaking when he realised that it wasn't all in his head. Daphne Greengrass was truly stood in front of him, speaking his name, looking directly at him as she steps aside from the tent opening. By Salazar she was beautiful, ethereal almost, heavenly.

"Marcus," she repeats, just as softly as before, her arousing voice beckoning him like a siren calling out to an unfortunate sailor. She flashes him a smile of perfectly white teeth, beckoning him further whilst he remains frozen, his mind whirling dangerously to try to bring him back to reality, praying that this Angel would still be here when he did.

"I've been looking for you," she says with a coy smile, biting her lip between her teeth. Marcus is fixated on the slight movement, the alluring way her plump pink lip boss appears between her perfect teeth, so teasing and innocent and yet so sinful.

"Me?" He manages to squeak out, his voice sounding much less majestic than hers. She nods, gliding forward towards him.

"I was told a little secret earlier today, can you guess what that might be?" She asks, reaching up with her perfectly manicured fingers to reach for the scruffy collar of his shirt. He clears his throat at the contact, barely able to get a word out and so he shakes his head in reply. She smiles again, giggling slightly at his actions.

"I was told you had a little crush on me," she leans down and whispers in his ear, her hot breath and her melodic voice forcing his eyes closed at the intimacy of the action.

"Yes," he says, sounding tranquillised, willingly giving up the information as if under her spell, desperately hoping her hands would remain on him in anyway they would.

"That's fortunate," she says with a girlish giggle, "because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

His eyes flash open, wider than a cauldron lid as her words repeat in his mind.

"Me, me? What about umm... George?"

"George Weasley? Now now Marcus, did you really think I'd believe it was George I was kissing?"

Marcus looks dazed, his eyes glazed over as he looks into hers. The hope in his eyes is evident, a look of sheer desperation on every inch of his face.

"You.. you knew it was me?"

"Of course I did silly," she giggles again, her sing like laughter making his heart soar. "I think I'd know if I was kissing George Weasley."

"Don't say his name," Marcus bites back angrily with a frown, the illusion he's holding onto in his mind of the perfect moment slightly fracturing from the sound of another man's name falling from her lips.

"I'm sorry Marcus," she says quickly, meekly. He hates the sound of it initially, cursing himself for his anger and for breaking the moment. But underneath he secretly loves the way she begs for his forgiveness, her subservient tone strangely arousing.

"It was such a clever plan," she continues. He can hardly concentrate with how her warm hand strokes against his arm, the path of her touch making his skin tingle. "Why wasn't it just you all along? It could have been your lips I've been kissing all week."

The very notion of her words makes him weak. No longer would be have to pretend to be that filthy Weasley boy but instead he could dream that his lips would be the one to touch hers, those perfect lips that he'd be happy to suffocate against.

"Angelina," he gasps out as her hand brushes his neck, having moved across his shoulder and up his arms, his trousers suddenly feeling uncomfortably tight.

"What?" She says, sounding hurt. He'd ruined it all, said another girl's name and broken her trust in him. He had to fix it right now.

"Angelina Johnson, it was all her idea. She had me drink Polyjuice to turn into George, said you'd never want me for me. Now I know how you feel, trust me I'll deal with her."

"No need," she says, her tone suddenly much harsher, the ethereal tone to her voice fading away. He looks up at her with wide eyes, an ominous feeling of dread beginning to seep into him. "She's been dealt with."

"What?" He begins to say, confused and concerned as he hears her voice change in tone.

He stumbles back when he watches her perfect face begin to distort, like something from a horror film, skin stretching and moving upon its own accord. Her features alter before his eyes, the face and body he'd spent weeks memorising and committing to his memory distorting before him.

Suddenly, he's no longer faced by the girl of his dreams but rather one of his more recent nightmares, you.

"You, you!" He begins to say, startled and frightened under the weight of your hateful gaze. "What is this?"

His head whips around when another figure appears, though this one he had certainly not intended to see tonight.

"Angelina?" He stutters, the pair of them gazing at each other in alarm upon seeing you stood there. You take the opportunity of their distracted gazes and pull out your wand, locking the panelled curtain door with a swish of your wrist, securing the tent.

The noise of the canvas being secured echoes like a whip in the small space and startles both of the non suspecting people inside the tent.

"Y/n," Angelina begins to say, her face screwed up with a frown despite her smile, clearly thinking you were joking.

"Tell him," you say, prompting her to do the right thing.

"What?" She asks with a chuckle, still feigning ignorance. That is until she sees the clothes that you were wearing, the green accents and emblem of the uniform so foreign against your body. You watch as her eyes widen in panic, clearly realising that this was not a joke at all. I'm that moment, she realised that you knew everything.

"Y/n," she says again, trying to defend herself but you silence her with a single look of hatred.

"Tell. Him."

"Tell me what?" Marcus says, suddenly frustrated by the lack of sharing happening, his disappointment making his anger shine through.

"Tell him." You raise your wand towards her, your face expressionless and your eyes piercing.

"Alright!" She turns to Marcus, wavering in her confidence. "It hasn't been Daphne Greengrass you've been kissing."

"What?!"

Angelina recoils, all pretence of confidence having slipped away. It takes one shift of your wand-wielding hand for her to begins again.

"It was me," Angelina confesses, shrinking in on herself. "I pretended to be Daphne so that you would  keep being George! If you thought you were kissing Daphne then I knew you'd keep doing it!"

Marcus is stunned and horrified by her words, his face contorting into a look of severe distaste, like the thought alone was sour.

"And?" You say, breaking the silence. Her eyes whip around to you, realising once again that you knew more than she thought. Suddenly, she's turning her vitriol upon you, eyes blazing as she squares her shoulders.

"This is all your fault! You already had Fred, why did you need George too?! If you'd just been happy with one you little slut none of this would have happened!"

She reaches for her wand as her shouts echo through the tent but you're too quick, blasting her wand away from her with a simple spell and catching it mid air as it falls to you.

"Tell. Him."

She's silent, alarmed by your ability to disarm her to effortlessly. You take it upon yourself to look at Marcus who looks frightened for his life.

"That's not all though is it Angie?" You snark, using the nickname you knew she hated before turning your attention to Flint. You rifle through your pocket and pull out a single sweet wrapped up in an orange wrapper.

"Look familiar?" You ask, holding it up between your fingers.

"Bitch," you hear Angelina mutter under her breath, but rather than infuriate you further, it fuels you.

"Those sweets you gave me," he says to Angelina in shock, "how do you have one? She said they were limited edition!"

You have to fight to not roll your eyes in that moment, realising how painfully dim the Slytherin captain was.

"You mean the melon drops you stole from Fred and laced with Amortentia?"

"What?" Marcus says, his head whipping around towards Angelina who has taken a seat in one of the benches, averting her gaze entirely.

"She's been lacing you with love potion! I knew it was odd that the Slytherin thief had suddenly stopped. You 'talking' with Fred at practice was just a ploy to get more of his sweet creations from him because you wanted to carry on lying to Marcus! How did you manage it? Have someone else on the inside did you?"

"You stupid bitch!" She begins to lunge, only to be stopped as Marcus brandishes his wand in her direction, his eyes livid and his face bright red with anger. His wand goes flying through the air as you disarm him too, leaving them both defenceless without their wands.

"Well, there's nothing you can do now! George will hate you when he finds out, you'll be lucky to even keep Fred! You don't deserve them and you never did!" She's manic, eyes glassy as she snarls at you.

"I wouldn't be so sure," a voice says from the sidelines, two near identical figures stepping around the curtains to reveal themselves.

"George," she says breathlessly, saying his name like a prayer. Her face is full of hope, eyes pleading with his as she smiles up at him like he'll be her salvation. Her smile fades quickly when George walks over to you and wraps his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. Fred mirrors his actions and you stand united as a trio against the two that had wronged you.

"Please Georgie, I love you," she pleads one final time. George remains stoic, unwavering and unbothered by her confession.

"I love my girl."

"Did you hear about Marcus Flint and Angelina? Who'd have thought!" One of the younger Gryffindors says scandalously as they tuck in to their evening meal. You'd tried to avoid the inevitable gossip but no matter where you went it seemed to follow you. It was Monday evening and you were sat in the great hall between your boyfriends, all of you tucking in to the food with little restraint. George's hand rested on your thigh underneath the table as Fred's left hand absently rubbed your lower back intermittently. Everything was perfect again, as if nothing had ever been any different.

"I know! I heard they both went missing over the weekend," Dean says from slightly higher up the table, never one to miss out of the circulating gossip.

"Well I didn't see it but I heard that they were caught sneaking onto the quidditch pitch after hours, something about rigging the next match apparently!"

"Oh bull, we all know why they were there together late and night and it's got nothing to do with quidditch," another girl giggles. A few people snigger and you simply bite down on your lip to stop yourself from joining, feeling George's hand squeezing your upper thigh.

"They got caught by Snape fooling around apparently, couldn't imagine a worse way to go to be honest," Lee interjects with a grin.

"No you've got it wrong," Ron says, from across the table, still chewing on a chicken leg. Your gaze flicks to Hermione sat beside him who grimaces at his lack of table manners and you chuckle.

"I heard they went up in a puff of black smoke and disappeared! Apparently then didn't find them until midday Sunday in the shrieking shack!"

He's waving his potato covered fork wildly as he speaks, his arms swaying back and forth with his words. Hermione reaches for his hand and slams it on the table, keeping the sharp cutlery firmly in one place and away from her face where he was wielding it previously.

"Really?" You hear Fred say, a tone of wonder in his voice.

"Yeah!" Ron replies animatedly, his gaze flicking to his fork as if he's scared to raise his arm again to bring it to his mouth.

"Weird," George replies, taking a bite of his own food as he nudges you secretly. You smirk behind your goblet, knowing exactly the reason for the rumours, the crystals of Peruvian instant darkness powder in George's pocket faintly clinking together with his movement.

"So George, what's it like to know that kissing you is  a Slytherin girls worst nightmare?" Lee says with a boyish giggle, the rest of the table following suit.

Fred had been brilliant in orchestrating a coverup for what had happened with George and Daphne. Fred had let it slip to Seamus that one of his and George's prototype daydream charms had disappeared along with their freshly made melon drops, only it hadn't been the daydream one but rather the misery charm they'd been working on but couldn't get right. If the incantation has been used correctly, it would torment the user, showing them a vivid nightmare of their deepest fears. Kind of like a charm version of a boggart, only the magic wasn't yet perfected and it had led to fake George appearing on and off in his boggart form until the real one returned, clinging on to everyone's misery like a dementor.

The story was that Flint had stolen the items from Fred and George and had used it upon Daphne, leading to the strange occurrences. She'd have no memory of it of course, it was virtually undetectable but the consequences of what happened were enough for the twins to cancel making the item, seeing what hurt it could cause.

Seamus, being the worst secret keeper in all of Hogwarts, told Dean, who told Parvati, who told Cho and Pansy, which meant that the entire school had found out within hours of what Daphne had seen when Marcus had charmed her.

"You know what mate, it's a relief," George replies to Lee, smiling widely with pink cheeks. "Only one girl I want kissing me anyway."

He squeezes your leg under the table again and you beam at him. Ron pretends to gag at the sweetness, earning a swift kick to the shin from Hermione whilst Lee holds up an uneaten chicken drumstick as a somewhat toast to George's words.

"Bet it was nice to get away from school for a few days eh? Though you couldn't have chosen a worse time," Dean says, gesturing to you who had been upset for most of the week, believing the rumours. "What did Mcgonagall want anyway?"

"The academy of broom flying needed a beater for their teaching course. Five days of nothing but Quidditch, absolute bliss if you ask me. It was between me and Fred but she thought I was the safer option," he beamed at the words, clearly taking great pride in what she had said, though really he was probably just the lesser of two evils.

"The quidditch robes," you say under your breath, the finally puzzle piece slipping in place, remembering how they had been missing from his room and that Flint had borrowed Iain's.

"Which reminds me, George I'm going to need those robes back you borrowed," Iain says from down the table, clearly having been listening to the conversation. George looks confused and begins to open his mouth to question Iain but you slip your hand onto his under the table to gently silence him.

"Don't worry Iain, you'll get them back," you say with a smile. He nods, smiling, before tucking back into his food.

"Eventually."

[mistermalaprop]

Can I request Sunstreaker harnessing the power of the sun to obliterate his twins annoying ass?

he's praying to his lord and savior sunstorm

[shorukarts]

Loving ur art, I need more Errorcore please 🙏

Thank youuu 🤭

Here's errorcore for ya

Hope you like it 💓

[scramblescrew]

I think it’s time for the cult of the lamb stuff too begin (do the first one)

Male Black Cat!Follower Reader Being the “sibling” of the Bishops of The Old Faith

TW: [Unhealthy Relationship, beatings, drugging, forced sibling relationship, gaslighting]

Relationship type: Platonic but unhealthy

Since your birth after the banishment of The One Who Waits, your life had been filled with luxury. Being in the likeness of the bishop of death had its perks. for a few examples; you were widely respected among the old faith, you got special exemptions for certain rituals such as fight pits and Flesh sacrifices, higher positions in the old faith, and at some points, you were even given offerings. But there WERE downsides, the attention you had gotten from the four bishops was a bit unnerving. they seemed crazed since the day they met you! All four bishops treated you like their own blood..? And even though your name was [Y/N], they kept calling you Narinder....you always asked why you were given the nickname you were but Heket or Shamura would always tell you that that there would be a time and place for that. But it wasn’t now….

As you've gotten older, you were given a gold skull necklace, a charm that gave you everlasting life as long as you wore it. but with your age and more knowledge, you had also noticed a pattern of behaviors in the bishops you've now accepted as your "siblings."

Leshy:

- god d*mn. This gremlin

- he uses his domain, Darkwood, to trap you in for extended of time, forcing you to cuddle him and to hear you eventually purr.

- is he delusional? ….kind off

- he knows you aren’t Narinder, but you were the closest thing to him

- and GODS- he was so angry for what his brother did to him

- this boi is fluffy!

- when giving hugs and just hanging out in general, the density and softness of his fur(?) makes the Camilia flower fields his domain is known for feel like brittle hay in comparison!

-he essentially uses you as a tiny feline teddy bear

- speaking of Camilia flowers, since they are used for healing, Leshy might withhold them from you in order for you to depend on him even more.

- leaving you ill and consequently suffering for sometimes days before giving you Camilia flowers and bed rest

- only because his siblings begged him to give you some mercy

“Who’s tough now, huh!? Who’s the one with the power now, Narinder!? ME-“

Heket:

-WOULD SHANK SOMEONE!

- anyways- she IS VERY protective but she has good intentions/reasoning for that

- to her, you are so weak and kind of pathetic but that would be ok to her

- as long as you stay with either her or her siblings

- in case you ever got any ideas of running off in order to escape, she would periodically use the mushrooms around her grounds of Anura to brainwash you into being subdued and making you docile

- despite her crown helping her talk to some extent, Heket still expects you to help her get her point across when she can’t voice them

- she (along with Kallamar) tries to dilude herself with the thought that you are indeed Narinder returned from banishment and trying to repent for his actions, no matter how futile that would be

-but that wasn’t the truth and she knew it. She knew you were an innocent follower that was given a name and title that didn’t belong to you

-she almost pities you

“Just eat…….the mushrooms….Narinder…..you’ll feel…better..soon.”

Kallamar:

-He wholeheartedly believes you’re just Narinder without your crown…therefore…powerless…

- and he absolutely takes advantage of that delusion

- on the beaches bordering anchor deep, he’d be found throwing you around and shrieking about everything “you” did to your “siblings”!

- you took his handsome ears, Heket’s ability to speak-her voice, Leshy’s eyes, SHAMURA’S MIND-

-he’d curse you with everything’s he had, just wanted to hurt you for things that you would never think of doing

- but eventually he’d calm down and see you in a curled up ball on the ground, crying and bleeding in pain, the pain of the attacks and illness taking over you as you writhed

- he’d gasp, rushing to you and picking you up and holding you close

-he’d shake and tear up as he runs to his siblings for Mushrooms, to ease the pain, and Camilia flowers, you heal you

-he’d immediately be scolded and forbid from seeing you period

- this severed communication between you two would lead to him taking it easy, thankfully

- after he was allowed to be around you again, he’d just take you to the docks

-you two would catch fish together and feast on your catches. Talking about Kallamar’s old happy memories with Narinder as if you shared the same happiness and were there

“I’m sorry, brother…you’ve just caused us so much pain…I-…I still love you though

Shamura:

-Two words.

-MANIPULATION and DELUSIONAL

-they were the closest to Narinder back before his banishment, so they would be the one to spend most time with you

- you be using the silk found around to make thread and making clothing for Shamura’s followers when the spider bishop themself would come up behind you, pick you up, and take you back to her temple

-they’d warn and advise you against spending unnecessary time around followers

-They wouldn’t want you to get that much power getting to your head…

-“you wouldnt want to be sent away again, do you?”

-Shamura would also gaslight you into thing that you’re crazy for thinking they were anything but loving to you

“What? We love you!- We’re your siblings, you’re acting like we’re some sort of captors and you’re a prisoner! You were a prisoner when we sent you to the underworld! But you’re back now! Just let us be a family again, damn it!”

-similar with Heket, if you tried to escape Silk Cradle, Shamura would fly into a rage and chase after you, grabbing you, and secure you in a spider silk cocoon that was in a safe area of their temple before calming down

-you could try to struggle and scream but “your eldest sister” would just hug you close and sing to you

“Narinder..Dear brother..please stop fighting. You’ll only hurt yourself more…”

UP NEXT: DEPRESSED READER X ANCIENT COOKIES

[mayskalih]

Your KakaRin is my forever love🥰 it would be so great to see them again❤️❤️❤️

thank you, hope you enjoy this one as I start filling the requests <3

[fangirlfuel]

Hiiii bestie! What if you did an AU where the reader is a royal princess and Oscar Piastri is her bodyguard assigned during a global tour? They’re not supposed to fall in love, but they do. I want secret glances, fake denial, and a passionate forbidden kiss at a gala.

♡

[faggy-thing]

hi..,, im back :nervoussmile:

ok so, if its okay, can i request an astrobot (or just the astrobot series in general) themed wallpaper with white, grey and blue themes??? :3

here you go, I hope you enjoy! omg I keep seeing the trailer for this game and it looks so cool!

[zealfruity]

Hello :D

If you're still taking requests, would you be alright with drawing Wrecker? Your art is absolutely amazing and the way you draw clones is just so good!

Here's the guy! Finding something funny on Pabu.

Thank you!! Means a lot, I do my best.

[icycoldninja]

REQUESTS CLOSED

Alright, disappointing as it is since it's been a while since I posted anything original, I'm afraid I'm going to have to close requests. I just have too many (think 40+) piled up in my inbox and I'm going to need some time to get through them all.

No new requests will be received at this time. Any that are sent will be deleted. You are, however, free to ask questions and socialize with me as much as you'd like. I will continue to work on requests currently in my inbox.

Thanks for understanding, and sorry for the inconvenience.

[pukefactory]

Do you have any thoughts about gifts ENA would get for reader, or how they would be presented? So many different jobs would yield a wide opportunity for trinkets! Rare artifacts, useful tools, broken “junk” that she tries to upsell (rather, it gains sentimental value once gifted)… (Perhaps she offers to “trade” some of these, like for kisses)

ENA would probably give you anything she finds intriguing, ranging from something as mundane as a talking eight ball to something as bizarre as a blood drive from a malicious, unidentified being. The characters ENA assists usually offer her whatever they possess, so if she can’t find a practical use for the items, she passes them on to you. The collection grows quickly—but hey, at least you’ve got an interesting pile of junk.

[vvickydisc]

can i request some abstribbun?

i misread this and thought it was abstragedy oop im sorry anon

[emeritusemeritus]

Hiiii im hoping i can request headcanons for a relationship with fred and a Hufflepuff painter reader? Pleaseeee

Your wish is my command Anon! 🖤

Fred Weasley HC’s: Hufflepuff Painter Reader.

Fred is never exactly quiet, nor is he ever still for very long. You’d been hesitant to allow him to join you whilst you painted because you preferred to create in peace, with just your music and the creativity around you. But after he promised to be good with his little puppy eyes you couldn’t resist, you finally allowed him to join you.

You expected him to be a nuisance but in actual fact he was even more of a calming presence, fascinated by what you did.

Occasionally he’d bring his new inventions with him and sit and tinker with them whilst you painted. You called in parallel play, both of you enjoying each other’s company whilst both getting to create what you loved to do. These were the best times of the week and you always looked forward to it.

“What’ya painting my little badger?”

Despite being a calming presence most of the time, he could also be a menace if the mood arose.

That’s paint water not your drink!

That’s still wet!

Immediately commissioned you to paint a portrait of him for his mum for Christmas, thinking that this year he would finally beat Bill at the one-sided gift giving war that Bill didn’t even know he was part of. Molly had cried upon opening it on Christmas Day and Fred had been proud as punch when he’d received two mince pies on his plate when Bill only got one. Not mentioning the three he’d already stolen that morning.

He runs everything by your ���creative mind’ when he’s stuck on something for the business. You offer advice on packaging even if it’s not your speciality and always try to find a vision for what he and George are creating. You hope one day that when they get their shop he’d let you paint a little something special for them.

Whenever you have creatorsblock, he’ll always try to ‘inspire’ you. Getting you out of your head for a while? Taking you for a walk to see the pretty sunset? He’d help you with anything to see the way your eyes light up when you’ve finally figured out what it is you need to carry on creating.

He never gets annoyed when you stop and take a moment to sketch your surroundings, knowing how much it means to you and how it all becomes a catalogue for inspiration down the road.

He’d chuckled when you visited the Burrow for the first time and you immediately gasped, hands twitching to begin sketching it out. It was beautiful and oddly placed, the perfect muse for your artwork. The lines, the colours, the way it seemed to contrasting to its environment and so individual in its appearance whilst still seeming to have always existed.

He may not always understand art, he values it because you do too. It’s changed his way of thinking, suddenly seeing things he’d never noticed before in everyday life. It makes him smile, knowing that everything you do has brought improvement to his life.