#she has prehensile hair!!!!

[wigglybug]

🌺

[cute-girls-from-vns-anime-manga]

I FORGOT MASHIRO CAN WAG HER PONYTAIL LIKE A TAIL!

[mspiggy]

multishipping poppy, call that the poppycule

[paragonrobits]

i was thinking about how Simon Petrikov in the advanced stage of his transformation by the crown by the time he met Marcelien would objectively look pretty damn scary; his skin is a shade of blue and so cold that a normal human would have died by that point, his mouth is a mess of razor sharp fangs, his beard is somehow prehensile (and most likely the hairs move more like... tendrils than hairs), his hands probably look more like long claws, his eyes are likely a dead shade of white...

He LOOKS scary. And this probably contributed to his loneliness BEFORE the great mushroom war. This is all the more a contrast against his genteel, silly demeanor and his role as a caring father figure.

But you know who else probably would have looked really scary at the time in a mundane context?

Marceline herself.

Her skin is an inhuman shade of gray-blue. Her hair, judging by the different between her own hair and that of the human Marshall Lee, probably does not have a normal human texture or appearance; perhaps something more like soft quills than actual hair. Her ears are pointed almost more exaggeratedly even than other characters with similar features. She has obvious fangs, even as a child?

Imagine a survivor, hearing a child in the ruins, and she turns to see you and you don't think its human at all. It's gray. It's got fangs, and pointed ears swiveling around like a bat, it looks like some horrible little demon or gremlin, and its seen you-

And its just a scared child, alone in the world, but our hypothetical survivor doesn't know that. So they run.

Simon didn't.

And as weird as he might look, Marceline didn't look any weirder, and it might have been the first time she saw someone that looked like her, and wasn't afraid of her either.

[bonefall]

How do you feel about the Everluxes?

Well, I'm actually someone who generally dislikes Ancients. I usually find that they're kind of a "waste" of an otherwise interesting breed concept, and the fact they can't wear apparel means I find them difficult to work with even when the colors are all aligned. They're usually just "discount moderns," to me.

So Everluxes are everything I want, actually!

They're something that could never exist as a modern breed because they break the 4-legs 2-wings mold, they're SUPER unique in terms of their grublike proportions and big chunky upper legs, and they released with a ton of amazing line-breaking genes that are fun to play with. This is exactly what I feel like Ancients have been missing since their release!

I actually strongly disagree that these guys are "unfitting" in the Light Flight-- I think everyone who's saying that just doesn't like that Light has a fat dragon. I'm losing patience with the way they'll say, "It's not because they're fat, it's because they're inelegant, ungraceful, gross, tubular, long, round, etc" and just expect people to not realize those are being used as alternate words for "fat." The only person they're fooling is themselves.

They have a lot in common with the other breeds, actually. The wings resemble the Imperial's. The rhino-like horn reminds me of the pearlcatchers. They have the same prehensile "feeler" whiskers. Even the way that they're really long makes me think of a sort of "beta" imperial.

I have a headcanon that the Lightweaver made Everluxes and was suuuuper proud of them, her little "bookwyrms..." and then her bully of a sister, Shadowbinder, got REALLY mean about them. Took jabs at every chance, and ultimately made Veilspuns as "LOOK, IT'S YOURS BUT BETTER LOL. MAYBE YOU COULD LEARN SOMETHING. YOU LOVE DOING THAT, DON'T YOU?"

Long hair, sleek features, strong and tricky... Lightweaver loved her design, but when she looked at what her sister could do, she felt ashamed. She'd just wanted people to help her archive and preserve knowledge, but now that she was being pressured to compare her creations to someone else's, suddenly the joy was gone.

And, of course, FlightRising lore enjoyers know what comes next.

Spurred on by that fierce feeling of inadequacy, her next set of creations would be larger, more beautiful, more powerful than anything that had ever come before. She forced every tear, every sob, every moment of anguish she'd ever felt into her next creation. No dragon that walked the soil of Sornieth would be able to hold a candle to the light of the masterpiece within her claws.

Imperials came after the Everlux-- and Emperors in their wake. The Lightweaver swore to never create a breed out of anguish ever again.

[petrapalerno]

Submitting to the Alien Barbarian: #1

Signing up for an alien breeding program should be scary, considering the aliens are ruthless barbarians. On the upside, they won’t hesitate to give it to you as rough as you like it. 

Submitting to the Alien Barbarian is part of a smutty novella collection, Petra Palerno’s Filthy Shorts, that features otherworldly love interests. 

In this installment, you’ll find: alien romance, size difference, double dongs, submission, bratting, breeding, will it fit, rough play and pregnancy.

TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, pregnancy, fisting, overstimulation, anal play, gagging, violence, birthing, science fiction medical procedures and murder.

PREORDER NOW!

The heat radiating from the crowd, along with the smell of sex, hits me in the face as the door clicks open and the pilot bot dumps me unceremoniously into the dirt.

My heart thuds in my chest, but it’s not the excitement I thought I would feel.

I’m scared shitless.

But this is what I wanted, this is what I signed up for. 

“Mates needed for Volkroth spawning season. All expenses paid for biologically compatible species.” 

You wanted someone to be rough with you, to be a fucking barbarian with you.

Maybe it was too much to expect an orientation before being dropped off at the spawning pits. I figured after the extensive medical testing to ensure biological capability, they’d ease me in.

I was so wrong.

Besides the chorus of fucking masses that surround me, there’s the guttural noises of males as they slam their fists into each other’s bodies.

Something I didn’t realize from the holo communication is that the aliens are fucking huge. They tower over me as one purple brute rips the other male off a yellow alien female, who arguably looks like she’s having a great time. She even laughs as the male turns and clocks the attacking alien on the jaw.

His bones snap, sounding like a lightning-struck tree, as he crumples to the ground. I’m not sure if the breaking noise was his jaw or his neck—but I don’t think anyone cares.

They’re barbaric! They kill soldiers deemed too weak to fight. How could you want to mate a Volkroth? My roommate’s disgusted face flashes in my mind as I wonder if the alien on the ground is dead or not. 

“If you’re too weak to fight, you’re too weak to carry on the bloodline,” the victor yells.

The last male standing drips with the perspiration of sex, his body slick and shining. Unlike the one I saw on the holo comm, he’s completely nude.

More importantly, the big beast has two massive cocks resting on one heavy set of balls. They twist around each other, almost looking like they’re prehensile. I must gasp, because I draw his attention.

I scramble to stand when the alien’s eyes fall on me. His thick black hair, falling free of his topknot, spills over the four horns. There are two on either side of his head that curl proudly away from his face. 

“A human?” He almost laughs as he says it. “I’d have thought your kind too soft, too exotic to be in the spawning pits with the rest of us.”

His voice is deadly smooth as he approaches me, a predator stalking his prey.

I freeze, even though my brain is screaming to flee, that I shouldn’t let this monster near me.

But there’s a broken part of my judgement that wants him to grab me by the neck and fuck me into the dirt. So I stay still, stuck between two desires, my heart in my throat.

I crane my head up to look at him. He moves one very deliberate step closer. He’s so close now I can feel his breath on my face.

His eyes darken, and he licks his lips.

“You should run.” His voice is almost a whisper as it leaves his mouth.

The logical part of my mind wins, and I bolt. But I don’t have time to worry about where I’m running to. His huge hand shoots around my midsection, pulling me back against his body.

His enormous cocks strain against my ass, the thin fabric of my jumpsuit doing nothing to protect me from the heat of his body. He brings his free hand up to my neck and squeezes rough fingers against the column of my throat. It sends sparks down to my weeping pussy and I squirm in his hold.

“I want you full and dripping with my seed, and only mine, human,” he breathes into my ear.

I bite back a moan. 

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You want a beast to breed you, to make you submit?”

“Yes,” I manage to eek out. The first words I’ve spoken on this planet are to agree to be some space barbarian’s plaything.

His hand rips the neckline of my jumpsuit, exposing my breast to the planet’s humid air. My nipples pebble instantly as he drags his rough hand over the sensitive flesh.

The hand on my neck weaves into my hair, grabbing my ponytail and yanking my head further back until my cheek rests against his. His stubble rubs my cheek raw.

“How do you want it?” he asks.

“Rough,” I groan as his fingers pinch my nipple. I arch my back, searching for some friction as my hips lift. I want him to fuck me.

Suddenly, there’s a flash of pain and I yelp as his hand comes down hard, sharply smacking my tit.

“Can you handle rough, with all this softness?” His palms smoothes over the agitated skin of my red breast, the stinging melting into something blurred with an intense pleasure.

“Only one way to find out,” I say, with some shocking boldness. “Fuck me.”

His breath catches at my change in tone.

This is what I wanted. My body sings with joy. I want him to use me; I want him to fucking breed me.

I look back at the alien, and his brows knit. A look of resolution crosses his face.

“I won’t share you,” he says before throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

[shatteredearth-if]

SHATTERED EARTH INTRO POST

DEMO | DISCORD

Shattered Earth is an Interactive Sci-Fi/Fantasy Fiction about retreading old ground and working for your good ending. less formally, this is meant to go on my portfolio

Five years ago, you watched the world split open, bore witness to what you could only refer to as "dragons" made manifest in scale, flesh and skin. You saw cities razed to the ground, asphalt streets shattered like ice. Fleets of dragons and foreign—almost alien—aircrafts alike seared across the skies, while towers of dirt and metal tore free from the landscape. The world has inexplicably, incomprehensibly changed, but you know this to be true: Earth never really stood a chance.

With your world now overrun by dragons and dangers alike, you've lived alone, hiding from the world you once called home, scrounging for scraps and surviving by the skin of your teeth. But when a chance encounter with a mercenary ship leaves you reeling with the realization that you're not the average-joe of a human that you thought you once were, you're forced into an ultimatum: enlist with the Seekers, or live out the rest of your life in a Human compound on Therius. But your horrors extend far beyond the threat of the dragons; your monsters are at home in your head, but they might just be the key to stopping all of this madness… if they don't take you out first.

The gears turn, the worlds spin inwards like ever-onwards like painted tops. You will undergo a journey of self-discovery, of potential romances and of incredible loss. And somehow, you can't shake the sensation that this has all happened before…

A customizable protagonist: Customize your gender, your body type, your pronouns, and personality.

Five ROs to romantically pursue—some in the most conventional sense, others in… a not so conventional sense.

Engage in brief flings, one of which is... an RO's estranged divorced mother. (Your crewmates will disapprove.)

Train your body or your mind to perfection. Are you a frontline fighter, or do you prefer the aethereal arts?

Cute cat dog wolfboy…?

The female version of a himbo

There's no good way to put this: you remember things you shouldn't. The end of your story is not the end; something awaits you at the place where your endings converge. What is it? What are you?

There's an egotistical mind entity in your head, and the flags aren't just red; they're blood-crimson. Romanceable, but at a steep cost to your sanity. Or maybe…

Skippable, customizable NSFW content. My friends have advised me not to continue.

Avett Ironsturm

Role: RO

Gender: Male (he/him)

Race: Kattish

Age: 20

Specialization: Arms specialist

Appearance: Avett is a Kattish man of average height. His complexion is fair. Perched upon his head are two swivelling cat-like ears, and at the base of his spine is a prehensile tail that is about the length of his arm—both are adorned with soft, black fur. His hair is black, hangs just below the shoulders, and he keeps most of it in a messy ponytail. Most of his frontal hair frames his boyish, youthful face. His irises are copper colored, his pupils slitted.

Personality: Avett is bristly, prickly, and very easy to anger if he's not trying to get into your pants. He's a flirt through and through, and knows how and when to be charming, just… not with his coworkers. Or you. Though if you can get him to let his guard around you, you might just find him a lot more bearable.

Your impression: Once upon a time, you saw his old ID, stuffed in a cabinet along with his boxers and body spray, and you realized he was smiling in his photo. Not outwardly—they don't want you smiling on those cards, but behind those eyes was a laugh ready to bust out at any moment. That was four years ago. Now? All he does now is sulk and yell at people. Something happened in those four, long years, and those years have only been getting longer since.

Sexuality: Bisexual (woman-leaning)

Yuda Hellsbridge

Role: RO

Gender: Female (she/her)

Race: Half Gallian, Half Kattish

Age: Secret?

Specialization: Restrainer

Appearance: Yuda is a half-Gallian, half-Kattish woman of above average height. Her complexion is a pale, seafoam green—common for most Gallians. Her hair is white with blue undertones in the right lighting, and is short and choppy. If you look too closely into her metallic gray eyes, you will notice a swirling, foggy substance within her irises, as is common for all Gallians who are at least a bit adept in magic… which is to say, almost all of them. Yuda is extremely fit and exercises often, and as a result her build is stocky and muscular—very uncommon for a Gallian, though she claims that she's half Kattish.

Personality: Yuda is outwardly cheerful, loud, and brash—tact is not her forte. But behind every sunny smile is a shadow, and Yuda keeps her shadows well away from the spotlight.

Your impression: It's not trauma. It's not a blip in her personality. There is something genuinely terrifying hiding behind Yuda's eyes, and that's not including the fact that you don't know how old she is. Oh, she's nice, and she's got no ulterior motives, you'll give her that. But it's like she's wearing her own body like a shadow.

Sexuality: doesn't care for labels, but for clarity's sake she is pansexual.

Ysh'vanna O'Raal

Role: RO

Gender: Female (she/her)

Race: Draconian

Age: 26

Specialization: Captain/Pilot

Appearance: Ysh'vanna is a short girl with wispy, white hair that topples down to her waist—if she doesn't brush it out of her face, it has a tendency to smother her slight frame like an oversized scarf. Her irises are orange, with a ring of emerald green around her pupils. Trailing from her ears are two, small, green webs that resemble translucent dragon wings.

Personality: Everyone onboard the Seeker is a wreck, yes, but Ysh'vanna is always at least two crises away from a mental breakdown everyday. Sorting through admin, funds, Avett's shenanigans and the odd dragon attack has left her riddled with anxieties. She has difficulty forming bonds outside of work because of this, so her relationship with Avett isn't great. After any particularly grueling mission, she will often be found comatose in front of the navigation panels, staring off into the skyline. Otherwise, Ysh'vanna tries to be cheerful. Most of the time. Some of the time.

Your impression: She's probably by far the most average person on this ship. Every morning she takes her coffee with three sugars and a cupful of milk; every night she takes a nail-sized tablet along with a full glass of water. "For the anxiety," she says. She's incredibly open about most things... until it comes to her family. What's the deal?

Sexuality: bisexual (woman-leaning)

Auren Draksparrow

Role: Platonic Option

Gender: Male (he/him)

Race: Gallian

Age: According to Avett, "Like, a hundred or something." He looks about forty in Human years to you.

Specialization: Warder

Appearance: Auren is a Gallian man of above average height. His frame is gaunt, almost frail; his hair is platinum blond, and is secured in a low ponytail that reaches down to his waist. His complexion is seafoam green, and his eyes are a faint violet. Swimming in his irises is a fog, a trait most Gallians share. His facial features are long and soft, but his cheekbones sit high upon his face.

Personality: Auren is cold, aloof, and it can be difficult to discern what he's thinking from speech and body language alone. He is clear in mind, even during high-pressure situations, until his abilities as a caster fail him.

Your impression: Here's the deal about living past one hundred and one; you're going to mess up. You're going to mess up a lot more than the average person, and your book of guilt's going to be pushing a trilogy if you don't start forgiving yourself for some of those mess-ups. You know for a fact that Auren has never forgiven himself, not even once, because he's yet to save the Seekers. Because he's yet to, in his eyes, make himself useful. But you're his lucky break: he's the only one on the ship who can see that thing in your head for what it is, and he knows it's a threat.

Sexuality: he's not looking for a relationship right now, if ever. He's married to his tomes and the study of aether.

Liam Salazar

Role: RO

Gender: Male (he/him)

Race: Human

Age: 24

Specialization: Researcher

Appearance: Liam is tall with an athletic frame and broad shoulders. He usually keeps his dark brown hair in a nest of curls atop his head. His skin is a deep umber, and his eyes are an even deeper shade of brown. He often wears a white lab coat over a simple sweater and dress shirt.

Personality: Quiet, but goofy; aloof, but sensitive. You sense that this boy would rather bury his head in a good book or some other complicated research than look you in the eye. That's not to say he's meek, though—come any threat, and he'll lash out swinging. You had to be a special kind of tough to have survived the Migration as a Human, and Liam is no exception.

Your impression: You didn't expect to make friends at the IRC training facility—most Humans there wanted your head on a stick for the cardinal sin of having a deal with a merc ship already. The Migration wore everyone's patience thin, but not Liam's. For a hot moment at that facility, you were two renegades against the hateful world. Until your training period finished up.

Sexuality: Panromantic demisexual, though initially he believes that he's straight.

The Entity

Role: RO

Gender: Customizable/it

Race: Something intangible. A voice in your head.

Age: It laughs when you ask this. "How old is a concept? The fear of death, the love of life? How old? Are you counting? Think about that."

Appearance: A dark wisp of smoke that occasionally shifts to form parts of a person.

Personality: Loves you, like an overbearing parent. Punishes you, like a torturer gleaning for answers. It maims you and calls it affection.

Your impression: When you're not talking to it, it's rummaging through your memories. Why? For fun. It knows about that time you did this and that in the locker room and almost got caught for it. It knows about that time you stopped someone from leaving after class just so you could hit on them, unsuccessfully, for ten minutes before they had to beg you to leave. It knows everything about you, all the bad, all the good—and it loves you anyway. That's the purest kind of love, isn't it?

Sexuality: Wouldn't you like to know.

With that all said, thank you for checking out this post, and DOUBLE thank you if you decide to try out Shattered Earth. 🙇🙇

[magicrainbowkitties]

Hyperfixations are insane bro.

Anyways here's my "MK1 Roster By How Good Of A Hugger They Are" tier list

Not Pictured:

Shang Tsung: A

Reiko: B

Explanations under the cut if you want them.

S tier:

Smoke/Tomas: Great arm strength, super sweet and cute in his intro dialogues, definitely goes for head pats. Also big ups for the smokey smell.

Scorpion/Kuai Liang: Arm strength, sensitive and protective in his dialogues, and very warmb. Perfection.

Johnny Cage: You cannot tell me this version of the guy is not absolutely INSANE at hugs. Arms, emotional sensitivity, words of affirmation if you need them, and LOVES giving them. CageCon attendees attest he hugs like a giant teddy bear.

Sindel: She doesn't give them often, but when she does it's the absolute Best. Mom hugs are best hugs, you can fight me on that. But her big up is the prehensile hair. Mom hug + more hug from hair? FUCK YES.

Reptile/Syzoth: I mean this for both reptilian and human form btw. Because in one case, gigantic croco-man being extra careful to not to nick you on claws and scales, and on the other, nuzzles and contact. BOTH have the ups of strength, dad hugs (his son may be dead but I will attest that no matter the status of the child, the ability to give dad hugs remains with the father in question) are also best hugs, and a tail. Also being cold-blooded he'll probably try to seek warmth from the person he's hugging. So more physical contact. Which is Amazing.

A Tier:

Raiden: Very sweet and kind, just BARELY didn't make S tier. Only because the lightning probably means he's got static everywhere and even if his amulet is turned off, he's still gonna accidentally shock you. Which for some people is negligible, but this is my list. Still great at hugs, but with a fatal flaw.

Liu Kang: Also a very near-miss for S tier. He's got a lot of the same ups as Kuai Liang, except he's a good deal less sensitive than the latter dialogue wise, and he strikes me as the kinda guy who feels a little awkward hugging people. Not bad in the slightest, but he prefers other methods of affection.

Kenshi: He's not a very physically affectionate person, before or after blindness, and probably has a few issues recognizing when it's necessary. However, when he does give hugs, (more likely that he's the one being given the hug), he's very sweet about it. Probably goes on for a while longer than originally intended, very good for touch starvation. Just don't expect it very often.

Kung Lao: Would be an S if he TOOK OFF THE FUCKING HAT. Look man, I'm tryna get physical affection, and you're real nice and sweet when you wanna be, but I am NOT tryna get decapitated by that fuckin table saw super-glued to your head! Good arms, tho.

Shao: Yeah this one surprised me too. But, big guy, leans down, and DEFINITELY a fan of head pats. But he's a near miss for B because of the fact that 1, definitely not a hugger, and 2, he's an asshole. He probably gives side hugs if absolutely necessary. Definitely hugged Reiko when he was a kid, tho.

Shang Tsung: OK HEAR ME OUT. Absolute BOTTOM of A tier, but DAMMIT that fucker is a convincing guy. He's spent years and years hawking fake cures and things, you think he doesn't know how to use physical means to make his sales pitch more convincing? He's actually very, very good at hugs and making people feel better about themselves, and that's part of what makes him so damn dangerous.

B Tier:

Kitana: People are gonna hate me for not putting her higher, huh? Well I speak naught but the truth. Bc my girl is NOT a hugger for anybody except her family. Just not really her thing. She prefers a handshake and good conversation from her friends and allies. She gives decent hugs when called for, and is a good person to hug in crisis, but she'd rather be there either in a group hug or on the side talking someone through it while one of the S or As handle the Actual Hugging Part.

Tanya: Same kinda deal as Kitana, but mostly for maintaining professionalism as an Umgadi. She's very sweet and understanding, but prefers to pat shoulders and give affection through presence unless you're very, VERY close to her (cough Mileena)

Ermac: Total wild card. Countless souls within the body mean countless possibilities for hug affinity or quality. So direct middle of B tier, just to be safe. Based on story mode, however, Jerrod is a solid S.

Ashrah: Again, not much of a hugger, but gives decent ones when necessary. Isn't used to physical affection in the slightest, but overtime may graduate to an A as she comes to understand touch as something that doesn't have to hurt.

Takeda: I... Really don't have an explanation for this one. I just. Very mid vibes.

Reiko: Affection is for weak losers, man up and get over it, why don't you? What do you mean touch doesn't have to be hostile, that's crazy talk, leave him alone. Nevermind the fact that he will probably break down sobbing if he gets a real hug he can't push away, and will probably come just this side of crushing the hugger's ribs in return, what? Didn't happen, if you speak of this, you lose your jaw. Why are you bringing the General into this?

C Tier:

Rain: Not a hugger, not good at it, doesn't want to be. Also VERY sweaty. Or maybe that's just his water magic. Either way not good. The only thing keeping him out of D tier is he's got a decent amount of strength to it.

Havik: Will absolutely detach his entire torso in the middle of a hug so the other person freaks the fuck out. He thinks this is funny. It's not.

Peacemaker: Cop mentality and insensitive. The ONLY reason he's not in D is because I am told John Cena is amazing at hugs, so he has some trickle-down skill from there.

Mileena: Was a solid A before getting Tarkat. Very sweet and physically affectionate, and one of the things she mourns the most from before the infection. She especially wishes she could hug Tanya and Kitana more often, but they're also the last people in the world she wants to get sick.

D Tier:

Sub-Zero/Bi-Han: Ew cold hands. Also believes that physical affection is a weakness and refuses to do it. How in the hell is he related to Kuai Liang???

Li Mei: Is a fucking cop. As a rule, cops are bad at hugs.

Quan Chi: Why would you ever want a hug from this fucker? Unless you're Shang Tsung. And even then it's probably not great just because he doesn't get the point.

Baraka: NOPE. Even if you don't care about Tarkat, he does, and will refuse hugs of any kind ever. Even if it wasn't contagious, he's very spiky and awkward with it. Ask Syzoth.

Omni-Man: Just as likely to crush your ribcage as to awkwardly pat the back, more either way depending. Best avoid this fashy fuck all together.

Geras: He is very sweet and a good emotional rock. But a hugger he is not. He refuses hugs with a similar fervency to Baraka, but without the urgency ofc. He hates hugs, and asks that you please respect his boundaries. Also he'd get sand all over your clothes.

Homelander: Do I even need to explain.

[furiouskettle]

my gaggle of villain(?) ocs that i got too attached to

Cowboyninjapirateman: His backstory is that he had a Really Weird Day where he got bitten by a radioactive cowboy. and a radioactive ninja. and a radioactive pirate. Luckily, he survived and gained the powers of all three.

Scylla: Using a forbidden knitting pattern, she created two sockpuppets that gave her the ability to control yarn. But who is puppet and who is puppeteer? At the very least, Scylla herself doesn’t seem to mind too much.

Stachemeister: This man has facial hair so glorious he can control all moustaches in the area to do his bidding. His own moustache is prehensile, and he can use it to fly.

Some Nerd:  they aren’t associated with these people, why are they even here

[whirligig-girl]

Commission for @trydianth of Entrapta operating tiny trains (since she loves tiny food so much!)

Image ID: Entrapta from She-Ra is grinning and fiddling with some train cars on her model train set. Entrapta is a tan-skinned woman with pink hair in large prehensile tentacle-like pony tails. Her regular hands are on the train layout table but she’s messing with the train cars with her hair. She’s also using her hair to control the model railway’s power transformer, which is hooked up to a First One’s crystal. The train layout contains a yard with three sidings with five freight cars and a purple tank engine. It also contains a loop that goes back and forth between a simplistic diorama of dark purple Dryll castle on the left and of Brightmoon castle on the left, with a small diorama of the Whispering Woods’ dark blue trees in the foreground. There’s a spur track that runs off-screen with the ominous reddish glow of the Fright Zone. A pretty streamlined tan, white, and gold train is coming from that line. On the loop line near Entrapta is seven freight cars and a scary looking military-green diesel with a Horde insignia. End Image ID.

Under the cut are some detail close-ups and artist’s notes.

Flatbed of First Ones Tech, FZR Boxcar, two unnamed vans, a refrigerated Salineas Fisheries boxcar, an unnamed tank wagon, a gondola of snow from the Kingdom of Snows, a Fred Pelhay Coal Co. truck for some reason, a Plumeria Products boxcar, and a Freight Zone Rail Road boxcar with graffiti reading She-Ra was Here.

A Freight Zone Rail locomotive and an old industrial shunter tank engine from Dryll Quarry.

Bright Moon Railway’s cab-forward streamliner, coming from the Fright Zone. Does that make sense? Perhaps not, but I hasten to remind the viewer that this is just Entrapta’s toy model.

I definitely put more detail into this than I intended to! It was going to be a lot simpler, but by the time I got to drawing and then perspective-skewing an actual model railway layout with sidings and switches I realized this was going to take a while. I wasn’t quite sure what to do for the engine visual style. At first the locomotive positioned next to the Dryll tank engine was going to be a big Dryllian steam engine, but I decided it’d be better to show a big scary Horde diesel.

I used steam engines for the good guys and a diesel for the bad guys soley and completely because i am thomas the tank engine-brained because I just like the look of steam engines! There’s no realistic reason why there should be steam traction in Etheria, rather than something entirely magical--but then, steam engines just look better in fantasy settings in my opinion! I can justify it, after-the-fact though: magic is everywhere in Etheria, but it can’t be harnessed by everyone (during the events of the series). Sometimes transportion has to be done through mundane means. And it’s not like we see any big power plants on Etheria, so electricity is out. Entrapta’s one of the only people who uses first one’s tech to power her inventions--otherwise we see no powerplants in Dryll. So. Wood or coal or magic-crystal powered steam engines! Yipee!

Obviously they’re all electric powered in this model, though.

[goosedoes-fics]

Madness Headcanons

Madcom x Reader

Content Warnings: I talk about tits a lot sorry. Also mentions of organ failure and transfem Tricky

Notes: Trying to get back into the writing groove. Sorry if this is shit

HANK J WIMBLETON

If you didn't know ASL before meeting them, they would communicate primarily with hand and head movements. He's too cool to use a notepad

Not a big fan of PDA, but in private he's quite affectionate and cuddly. theyre just a big ass guard dog cmon

Hank Motherfucker Wimbleton what are you doing here????? waiting for them to play gangnam styl.

DEIMOS

Transgenda

I like to imagine Dedmos's rock face works similarly to Hank's metal jaw. It's just a rock jaw. Rock lobster.

He is an ASSHOLE (affectionate)

The kind of person to like. Punch your shoulder when they laugh

Their ideal first date is stealing the declaration of independence

If you don't make him, he will go days without showering he is SO smelly anfd SO stinky. He has GREASY ASS HAIR i just know it

SANFORD

If Hank is a guard dog he's one of those goofy dogs that look like bear cubs

VERY big fan of PDA he will smooch you anywhere. everywhere. any time any place any day

He takes missions more seriously than Deimos but outside of missions he is just a big fat goofball

I'm going to place my hands directly on his man tits. anyways where was I

He lost his nipples in The War

I'm kidding. He lost them during top surgery.

At this point i'm aiming the transgenderification beam at all of them. nobody is safe. BE TRANSGENDER

DOC

Sometimes he wears his hair down and it's like a mullet w/ shaved sides

Out of all of them he's the most adverse to PDA but! In private he is very sweet. very silly

Hey are you okay with being tested on? Yeah? Cool will you drink this organ failure potion I brewed

Plays the piano sometimes! He might serenade you if you ask nicely

TRICKY

BE TRANSGENDER. (shoots her with my transfem beam)

Yeah so he/she bigender Tricky is real. Krinkels told me himself

He is like a big weird dog as well. He might lick your face (don't let him zed spit is slightly acidic)

Probably likes PDA the most. She will make out with you very grossly and sloppily in the middle of McDonalds

Very soft very fluffy. Which is surprising considering how many times he's died

His tail is somewhat prehensile, he could dangle from a tree branch if he tried hard enough

CHURCH AND JORGE

They are very good at sharing!

Sorry not sorry yandere enjoyers but they would NOT kill someone for looking at you they would be like haha yeah everyone should look at our awesome fucking partner theyre so cool and hot

Sometimes they forget how big they are compared to you so they might try to like flop over on you. Pigpile on the small one

Very prone to roughhousing and play fighting but they'll be gentle if you ask

BEEFY BOYS 😍

[bardic-tales]

The following is from a Tumblr game that went on a few months ago. I found it in my Scrivener drafts under Bia's character folder.

Full Name: Bianca Moore

Age: 28 (human years)

Gender: Female

Species: Celestial-Infernal Nephilim (hybrid of angelic and demonic lineage, infused with Jenova cells and S-cells)

Sexuality: Demisexual

Appearance:

(Pre-Fall): Bianca has golden hair that frames her brown eyes with round pupils and flawless skin. She stands 5 feet tall with an hourglass figure, measuring 36-24-36, and wears a D cup. She has elongated canines with white wings.. Her eyes glow with a golden sheen when she is using her divine powers.

(Post-Fall) Bianca's appearance is marked by indigo eyes with feline-like pupils, waist-length wavy black hair styled in a half-up half-down do with a white ribbon, and porcelain skin. She has sharp fangs, a long prehensile tongue, and blood-red stiletto nails. Her wings are a mix of black and indigo feathers, embodying her corrupted celestial and demonic heritage with Jenova and S-cells.

Occupation: Published romance novelist / Self-Proclaimed Priestess of Jenova

Family Members:

Biological Father: Azrakiel (also known as Asmodeus)

Surrogate Father: David Moore

Biological Mother: Seraphine

Surrogate Mother: Sarah Moore

Daughter: Aurora (Sephiroth & Bianca’s)

Son: Lucien (Sephiroth & Bianca’s)

Spouse/Partner: Sephiroth (current), Mordecai (deceased)

Best Friends: Sephiroth (also her soulmate) Pets: None (sometimes refers to the Dark Dragon as her 'pet')

Ideal Bedroom: Bianca's room is a blend of elegance and gothic charm. Soft, ethereal lighting illuminates dark walls adorned with silver filigree patterns. A large, canopy-style bed with black silk sheets and feather pillows dominates the space, complemented by bookshelves filled with ancient tomes and romance novels. A single vase with white roses sits on her desk, next to a framed photo of Sephiroth.

Way of Speaking: Bianca speaks with a soft, sultry tone, choosing her words carefully. Her speech often carries an air of poetic eloquence, masking the sharp wit and occasional venom beneath.

Physical Characteristics: Petite yet striking, Bianca stands at 5 ft tall with a curvaceous hourglass figure. Her weight is 105 lbs (128.6 lbs with her wings). Her most distinguishing features are her indigo eyes, sharp fangs, and intricate wings.

Items in Their Bag/Purse:

A black notebook and pen for jotting down ideas

Healing salves (potions) and antidotes

A compact mirror and blood-red lipstick

Ornate silver hairpin with a ruby tip.

Hobbies:

Writing romance novels

Reading ancient texts and poetry

Practicing swordsmanship

Exploring ruins and celestial lore

Favourite Sport: Swordplay, particularly dueling

Abilities/Talents/Powers:

Abilities: Reality manipulation, shadow magic, ice spells, and casting nightmares. She can also communicate with the souls of the departed and navigate temporal and spatial rifts. Can fly

Talents: Journeyman swordswoman and an adept in manipulation and persuasion.

Powers: Her celestial powers are corrupted, allowing her to bend reality and wield destructive energy. They come at the cost of emotional and physical stability.

Relationships: Bianca is devoted to Sephiroth, sharing a deep soul bond and a history of trauma bonding. Her relationships are marked by loyalty and passion, but her past losses (Mordecai, her first husband, and other loved ones) deeply affect her trust and attachments.

Fears:

Losing Sephiroth to Asmodeus or his madness

Reliving her traumatic experiences with Shinra and Hojo

Being captured or experimented on again

Faults:

Obsessive devotion to Sephiroth, often leading to morally questionable decisions

Emotional instability due to her corrupted powers

A tendency to manipulate others to achieve her goals

Good Points:

Fierce loyalty and determination

Compassion for those she loves and considers family

A creative and strategic thinker

What They Want More Than Anything Else: To bring about a new world alongside Sephiroth, fulfilling both their destinies and securing their place as rulers of a reborn omniverse.

Theme(s):

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

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

@seastarblue

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 2, Wave 1, Poll 8

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Entrapta- She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Qualifications:

She's canonically bi and autistic.

She is word of god confirmed autistic, as well as word of god saying essentially everyone in the show is queer. Most ppl hc her as bi or pan. Her mannerisms, character, and arc were developed by an autistic crew member.

Propaganda:

Bi autism creature with giant purple hair. Very powerful.

She has giant purple prehensile hair. Tech and biotech. She only eats tiny food. She perfectly encapsulates the autistic experience of having fake friends, being excluded everywhere, and only valued for your usefulness. Amazing character development of her own arc as well as realizing how others treat her badly. Beautiful disabled4disabled relationship.

Runaan-The Dragon Prince

Qualifications:

They are canon gay and we have good reason to believe he is autistic. His left horn was broken, and there's a good chance he will lose his left arm in upcoming seasons.

Propaganda:

Runaan is the leader of the Moonshadow assassins. He is also a father and very happily gay married to his husband. Although it is not explicitly stated in the show, Runaan is heavily autistic coded, with hints being left by the show creators on twitter. During a very important assassination, Runaan's left horn was broken in half, and now his arm is very likely to fall off if it is not properly amputated. Runaan puts up a tough front, but on the inside, he is very soft. He loves his family very much, and is willing to sacrifice himself for his people. Also. He's hot. So uhh, jot that down.

[snakebonewitch]

Research Log 1: Location: East (Barcelos, BR), South (Parque Nacional Serra da Mocidade)

Subject Discovery: Subject 'Ann' discovered via miscommunication during incentive transfer. Live specimen of 'Hydrochoerus hydrochaeris' lost in transfer. Attempt to recapture failed; Researcher made for adequate substitute. Escape from 'Ann's attempt to eat Researcher successful. Process included calling out, biting, begging and feigning despair. 'Ann' did eventually release.

Observations: Subject does not understand English or Español. Has minimal communication with local tribes, but understands small vocabulary. Vocal chords likely not completely developed through lack of necessity. Communication conducted via gestures and rudimentary word associations. Skin shares thin and elastic attributes of Eunectes genus on superior and inferior planes. Subject resorts to armor plating along trunk and head for protection from sun exposure and attacks. Hair is nonexistent on the subject, as are most traits indicative of Homo sapien. Heat pits sit under the eyes, with possibility that they are connected via the same nerve or very similar ones via separate foreman channel. General eyesight is less than 20/20; the heat pits likely make up for this especially while hunting underwater. Lower extremity has prehensile capabilities. Distribution percentage between superior and inferior halves proposes predisposition towards ectothermia, possibility to exhibit endothermic qualities up into mesothermic. Facial creases make expansion of jaw and consumption of large prey possible. Hunting seems to have no particular timeframe. Ambush via the water explains both the additional, transparent lens below the eyelid as well as vertical pupil shape. Adipose tissue centered around upper rib cage. Extensive research finds the deposits create insulation around section no longer anchored by a sternum. As well it potentially guards against lower temperatures, an attempt to breach exothermic tendencies and further supporting mesothermic regulation.

Research Log 2: Location: International Coastal Rd 10, West of Cairo, Arab Republic of Egypt.

Subject Discovery: Subject 'Wedjet' encountered among group of traveling vendors. Wares sold by subject include: -Sections of shed removed from Subject's lower region -small vials of yellow liquid, later discovered to be self-extracted venom chemically identical to venom produced by Naja haje.

Observations: Subject 'Wedjet' seemed to hold reservation against analysis. Incentive offered to provide testimony includes: - All (4) remaining specimens of shed from subject (3000EGP) - 3 vials (1.5mL each) subject-extracted venom (4500EGP) - Massage Therapy administered by Researcher during analysis. (RESEARCHER NOTE: I think I just got taken for a ride. I'll need to check what the exchange rate typically is for such things. Pretty sure the massage was just to see what she could get away with asking for; at least she let me keep enough cash on me to travel back.) In contrast to previous Subject, 'Wedjet' is well adapted to life among Homo sapiens. The caravan 'Wedjet' travels with are of no relation. Their discovery of each other is recounted as, quote:

"I was just a snakelet when they found me. They couldn't stop the men that took...them from me. But they found me, left alone in the house, and no one to care for me. That's all in the past now. What happened: happened."

Speech observed to be inhibited while hood is flared. As with Naja haje counterpart, extension of the hood is a conscious effort, only able to sustain position for up to 3 minutes. (Per Subject testimony) Further observation reveals rib structure continuing from trunk section, from vertebrae C7 to C3. Heat pits follow similar position as Subject 'Ann', with differences in size and count. 'Wedjet' expresses aggressive-style humor; on more than one occasion during testimony alluded to sensations of arousal when none were present. Hypothesis of exploitation expressed on part of the Researcher.

Research Log 3: Location: West of Bluewater, NM, USA

Subject Discovery: Researcher was provided local information regarding location. As well provision requirements were noted, namely hiking equipment, personal firearm protection, and guide (RESEARCHER NOTE: 'Guide' being a local from town who can vet that I wasn't there to either steal her cows, invoke Eminent Domain, or capture her for exploitation)

Observations: Subject 'Cera' is an interesting mix between Subject 'Ann' and 'Wedjet'. She lives close to settlements of homo sapiens, but chooses little to no contact with the wider populous. the only forms of contact seem to be from members of the local Indigenous American tribe. They are explained by 'Cera' as, quote:

"...My Middlemen. I, by most accounts, don't exist. But I ain't [sic] survived this long on coyote meat and bunkin' in barns. I raise the cows they don't have means to raise, I get left alone, and we split whatever we get from market; meat and cash."

Subject has been observed practicing eating habits indicative of homo sapiens, with three consistent-sized meals over the course of the day. This is noted in contrast to other observed subjects who otherwise practice eating habits indicative of ancestry. 'Cera' denotes the reason being that an otherwise conventional Lamia eating-style leaves room for predation of stock. Venom naturally produced by Subject's venom glands are noted to not be used in day-to-day life. Similar to 'Wedjet', 'Cera' provides venom samples both for medical antivenin production, as well as private sale. Growths above orbital section speculatively classified as 'horns'. 'Cera' notes they have never shed, but the left one has sustained injury in the past. Quote:

"Sumbitch [sic] had me holed up at least a month. Busted the end off and everything. You can't see it now; this was when I was first startin'. Don't stand behind a steer if you don't want to get kicked. That one made a damn-fine steak."

Research Log 4: Location: Tokyo, JP

Subject Discovery: Initial lead discovered via r/Cryptids (Reddit). Post contains 5 second video of Subject, rolling away in similar fashion to above illustration. Contact with poster helped track subject to near Nakano, Tokyo, Japan. Four (4) nights were expended in search of Subject, finally found exiting a local 7-Eleven.

Observation: Subject 'Chise' describes herself as a "hikikomori" (ひきこもり) a colloquial used to describe individuals experiencing severe social withdrawal (self-imposed and otherwise). Despite this barrier, she does sustain herself using an animated virtual avatar to interact via social media ('VTubing').

'Chise' exhibits higher 'tolerance' for alcohol in comparison to home sapiens. Specific variable that enables this is not yet known, and may require further research.

'Chise' maintains dexterity exhibited in other subjects, despite tail and body lacking similar length. Example provided includes tucking and curling tail into ring formation to assist in locomotion. Speed clocked at 6KPH.

Researcher requested by Subject to maintain communication. Request pending approval. If request denied or slow in turnaround, independent approval will be authorized.

[vodika-vibes]

Congrats on another follower event!!! Could I please request and Crosshair x GN! Reader Beauty and the Beast AU?

Not A Monster

Summary: Your father was a monster, his death was the best thing that ever happened to the stretch of land your family ruled. As it happened, though, the people your family was responsible for decided that they were done with your family as a whole. You’re not sure that you deserved to be cursed for your family’s crimes, though.

Pairing: Pre-Crosshair x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2018

Prompt: Beauty and the Beast AU

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So I kind of really love this idea, but I didn't want it to be too long, so I stopped after they meet. I hope you like it!

You were about five years old when the curse took hold of your family and the people who worked for your family. Too young for you to understand why your father was a bad man.

Too young to understand what was happening to you.

Honestly, you don’t remember your father at all. Outside of some vague memories of a deep voice and a massive red beard. And you barely remember your mother. You have some vague recollection of a soft voice singing a lullaby but that’s it.

You haven’t seen your mother since the curse took hold.

According to the employees, your mother has confined herself to her tower and refuses to come out until the curse is broken. You wonder how she expects the curse to break if she’s hiding away, but when you voice that to your nanny, you get swatted and shushed.

You have caught a glimpse of your mother’s new form, though no one knows that except you. Easily the size of a bear, with some kind of black ooze that drips from her body, claws the length of a small child, and acid dripping from a mouthful of fangs.

Her appearance triggered some kind of instinctual terror inside you, and you haven’t tried to even speak to her in a couple of years.

You’re lucky that your new appearance isn’t half as monstrous.

Oh, you’re clearly something other than human. Your skin, hair, and horns are the color of ash, you have a long prehensile tail that you use to hang from the rafters when you want to play. Your hands and feet have sharp, strong, claws that allow you to climb effortlessly. Your eyes are a luminous yellow, allowing you to see very well at night, but you’re practically blind during the daylight hours.

You’re also a bit small, standing at your full height you’re almost 5 feet tall. According to the manor doctor (who was turned into a bull), tells you that you should be at least 7 inches taller, based on your mother and father, so your height has to be a side effect of the curse.

Your nanny, who was changed to look like a sheepdog due to the curse, tells you that you look like a little imp.

The chef, who somehow turned into over two dozen mice, likes to say that you’re lucky that you’re still mostly bipedal. 

The gardener has turned into a large polar bear, so you spend much time helping him in the garden. Your claws appear to have been designed for climbing rather than digging, but you’re good enough at it that you haven’t been shooed away.

But, in full honesty, you look almost human. Human enough that, with long enough robes and head coverings, and with the able guidance of your nanny, you’re able to go down to the market and buy food for the people who live in the manor.

So far as the people in town are aware, you’re nearly blind and have a skin condition that is made worse by exposure to sunlight. And, for the most part, people are accepting of it. They avert their eyes, and chide their children if they stare too long, and leave you and nanny alone to do your shopping.

In the, almost, 100 years since your family was cursed, you’ve watched the small town grow into an active, and bustling city. Your full body covering is no longer seen as something strange, as several religious women in town dress very similarly to you.

Of course, this leads people to believe that you’re also a religious woman. Luckily, you don’t care enough to correct them of their confusion. If people want to think that you’re religious, and if that belief causes them to not question you too much, you’re happy to let them have their beliefs.

On this particular shopping day, it’s bright and hot. You’re barely able to see when it’s sunny outside as it is, but today it’s just miserable. And not only because it’s bright enough that it hurts.

But also because it’s hot enough that your robe is sticking to your skin.

“This is the worst day ever, Nan.” You announce to the panting sheepdog lying in the fountain next to you.

I did tell you we should have come yesterday. Nan replies as she rolls around in the cool water, It’s only going to get hotter as the day goes on. We should hurry.

“You smell like a wet dog.”

I am a wet dog. What’s your excuse?

You huff out a laugh and open your notebook that carries the list of everything that you need to buy for the next week. You’re unable to read what is written on the page, stupid sun, but the librarian made sure that the list was also written in braille.

You slide your finger across the raised letters, swiftly reading the list.

It’s a standard list, there’s nothing there that isn’t normal.

Good, it means that you don’t have to deal with anyone new. “Come on, Nan. Let’s get this done and go home.” You stand from where you were sitting on the edge of the fountain and walk several feet away.

You hear Nan jump out of the water, and then there are squeals of laughter from a handful of children as she shakes the water out of her fur. She hurries to your side and you lightly grab the harness as she presses her wet body against your leg.

“Awful,”

Suck it up. Grocery store?

“Grocery store.” You agree, allowing the large dog to guide you through the busy streets to the store.

It takes you and Nan several hours to finish your shopping, and the shopkeepers are nice enough to load up your cart for you while you run through the list to make sure that you’re not missing anything.

Once you’re sure that you didn’t miss anything, you clamber up on the cart and are about to give the order to the horse (who is actually the steward of the manor) to bring you and Nan home, when someone stops next to the cart.

“Excuse me,”

You turn and squint at the man speaking to you, you’re pretty sure he has silver hair, but that’s about the only detail you can make out, “Yes?”

“I’m looking for an inn or someplace like that.” He says, “Can you point me in the right way?”

“The only Inn was the Starlight Inn…but it burned down two months ago. Got struck by lightning.”

He’s quiet for a moment, “Please tell me you’re joking,”

“Fraid not. It’s still being rebuilt. But we had a wet spring, and it’s slowed work.”

“So there’s nowhere to stay?”

“You can reach out to the church?” You offer, “Or…” You hesitate, “Never mind. The church is probably your best bet.”

“You sounded like you were going to give a second option,” The man says.

“Well, my place has plenty of free space, but,” You shrug, “You’re not going to want to stay there.”

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I’ll take ‘it’s complicated’ over a church any day of the week.” The man replies dryly.

You tilt your head and stare at him for a long moment, and then you nod, “Alright. Hop up.” You motion for Nan to hop into the back of the cart, which she does with a huff, and the man settles on the bench next to you. Then, with a smile he can’t see, you introduce yourself.

“Crosshair,” He replies, “Are you able to actually steer this thing?”

“No need. Jace, we’re going home.” You call to the stallion, who releases a noise and starts on the path home. You don’t even bother to pick up the reins, and instead lean back against the cart.

It takes about 30 minutes for the cart to turn down the gravel, and heavily shaded, path that leads back to the manor, and it’s about that time that Nan pops up from the back. You should warn him.

You hum your agreement, and sit up, “So, about the it’s complicated.” You say as you get your first proper look at him. Dark skin, dark eyes, silver hair, and a crosshair tattooed around one of his eyes. He’s handsome, you think absently.

“Yeah?”

“About 100 years ago, my father was cursed.” You explain, “Unfortunately, he had the poor manners to die before the curse set in fully, so all of the people who lived in his home were cursed instead, including myself, my mother, and our employees.”

“Cursed?”

“Yeah,” You tug your hood off, and blink at him, “See.”

Crosshair stares at you, his gaze lingering on your grey skin, and then sliding up to your horns (they’re not very long, kind of stubby, actually). “Huh.”

That…was not the reaction you were expecting.

“I even have a tail,” You offer helpfully.

Crosshair’s gaze focuses back on your eyes, “I bet you don’t see during the day very well.”

At his comment, you cross your arms and pout, “No. But my night vision is unmatched. And I can climb better than anyone, and can hang from my tail.”

“You almost look like a gargoyle.” 

Your jaw drops, and you puff up to your full height, which isn’t a lot, “I am not a gargoyle!”

“I didn’t say that you were, just that you looked like one.” He has a small smirk on his lips, “Anyway, does everyone else look like you, imp?”

You glare at him, “No. The employees were turned into animals,” At that you point to Nan, “She was my nanny, and he,” You point at the stallion, “Is the manor’s steward. Our chef turned into 24 mice.”

“Ah, and your mother?”

“Ah, well,” You shiver, even under the heat of the day, “Mother looks like a monster. But you won’t have to worry about that. Mother never leaves her tower.”

The cart comes to a stop in front of the manor, and you hop off the bench. You squirm and shimmy out of the robes, leaving you clad in the tank top and biking shorts that you much prefer (because you can cut a tail hole in them without ruining the stability of the shorts) and you swiftly unhook Jace from the cart.

Crosshair stares at you for a moment, “You don’t look like a monster, imp.” He says as he climbs down, grabs a handful of bags, and then, bemusedly, gives them to Jace. “In fact, you’re kind of cute.”

You blink at him, stunned, and then clamp your hands over your burning face, “You can’t just say things like that!”

“Why not? It’s true.” His smirk widens when he sees just how flustered you are, “Don’t tell me no one’s told you that you’re cute before?”

“Of course not! No one’s seen me since I was human!”

“Well then, lucky me. I get you all to myself.”

You stare at him, genuinely at a loss for words, and Crosshair winks at you, and grabs another bag, “Where am I bringing this?”

Nan, having decided that Crosshair needs to stay, bounds over to him. Follow me, young man. I’ll show you to the kitchen and then your room.

Crosshair blinks at her, and then nods, “Alright. Thank you, Nan.”

Jace chortles from where you’re loading him up with bags, Well now, He says, If that’s not a chance to break the curse, then I don’t know what is.

Your face heats, “Hush, you. You’re putting the cart before the horse. For all you know, he’ll only stay for a couple of nights, and then he’ll move on.”

Is there any harm in hoping, boss? Jace asks as he nudges you with his nose, I know we told you that hoping was foolish…but that was wrong of us.

You sigh and shake your head, “Come on, Jace. Let’s get everything inside.”

As you follow Jace into the kitchen you see Crosshair talking to Chef, and you can’t help the small smile that crosses your face.

Maybe, just maybe, a little hope wouldn’t be too bad.

[cripplecharacters]

hello! i have a character with no arms who has prehensile hair, and they that hair to do things that would usually be done with and arm, such as picking things up and painting. they also use said hair in combat. would this be disability erasure? if so, is there a way for the character to not have their disability erased while keeping their prehensile hair?

Hello,

[standard disclaimer we don't have amputee mods right now],

if the hair just replaces arms and does everything arms do, it is a “disability negating superpower” that we have a whole tag for.

Having a disabled character and snatching the disability away with some magic thing is just poor representation in my opinion. It's the same as characters with those fantasy robotic arms that work perfectly and cause no issues ever. That's both bad representation and just simply overdone.

You could keep the hair if it's clear it doesn't replace arms. For many double arm amputees, especially those born without arms, or who lost them very young, their primary tools would be their feet for precise tasks and mouth for less precise ones. So maybe she paints with her feet, but can use the hair to sort of clumsily get her paintbrush to roll closer for her foot to grab. Use her hair to vaguely push someone away in a fight, not wield a sword or something.

There's way fewer things that she'd need magic hair for; all real life amputees manage without it for obvious reasons. People can live independently, drive a car, shoot a bow, eat, play guitar, fly a plane, all without arms - mostly with feet and sometimes with body-powered prosthetics. It would be cool to show how disability actually works rather than just having a superpower as a “solution” to not write that.

mod Sasza