#there's some magic at play here

[angeart]

a cuteguy design

[astronomodome]

ok

1. does anyone remember magical cat emporium. The cartoon pilot Lizzie ldshadowlady dropped out of nowhere in 2017. Girlboyfailure main character voiced by joel. Magical girl trans narrative. Cat oli. I learnt of its existence a few weeks ago and I have not stopped thinking about it since. Watch it now. Look at it

2. Would it be cool if we did a fan project where we write a season of it and expand on this world for funsies. Maybe I already have ideas. Maybe. Is that weird. That’s not weird. That’s not weird. Take my hand

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

How You Turn My World; Chapter 4

You finally find your way into the labyrinth, coming across some new and old faces; both friendly and malicious.

Character; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, reader is getting tired of being stuck here and smelling like a bog

Content Warnings; Swearing, some talk of death, reader passes out

Word Count; 2.2 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

As per usual, don't put my work into AI.

You were finally making some decent progress, what, with not being stuck in some bog and knowing somewhat of where you were going. A vast improvement really! Well, it would be, but unfortunately, you still reeked of rotten eggs and skunk — apparently the bog stench only got worse the longer it stayed on.

“Why did it have to dump me into the swamp,” you huffed, rounding yet another corner. “Like, it could have dumped me beside the water, but, no, no, let’s dump the magicless human right into the putrid bog water! A good guffaw, don’t you think? Ha ha ha HA!”

At least your au de Bog of Eternal Stench kept any would-be assailants away since you hadn’t run into anything (besides a rose bush, ouch) since you started making your way through the labyrinth. So maybe it wasn’t all that bad… damn, maybe your sense of smell was just used to it… hey, if stink helps you not die, then you would gladly stay stinky! Well, bitterly stay stinky is more like it.

“Assholes,” you muttered, rounding another corner. 

But it wasn’t a corner; it was a crossroad. Three paths merged off of the one you were on.

… aren’t labyrinths just one long line? THIS IS A FUCKING MAZE?! You groaned, looking at your possible options which all looked exactly the same.

Decisions, decisions, decisions. Of course nothing is easy here, no no no! Gotta make things difficult now.

The hedge behind you rustled, and you whipped around, getting into a stance where you could either land a pretty good sucker punch to the hedge-stalker or make a mad dash away. But out of the hedge crawled out a small, fuzzy, caterpillar. And back at home you would have thought it was cute, but you learned your lesson from the doors; don’t trust it, or anyone for that matter.

You looked down at the caterpillar, and the caterpillar looked up at you, blinking slowly. 

What are the chances… 

“Do you know a way out,” you asked the caterpillar, crouching down so that you didn’t tower over it.

The caterpillar blinked at you again (apparently caterpillars in the Underground have eyelids, which isn’t the weirdest thing considering everything). “No,” it chirped and continued crawling on its merry way, wherever that may be. “But you’ll find the way.” And it disappeared into the growth of the maze, humming a little tune to itself.

You sighed, and pushed yourself back up, straightening out your shoulders and looking up to the sky. “I’ll find a way,” you breathed, looking up at the cloudless sky which was starting to turn a brilliant amber with the setting sun. “I might want to find a way is more like it.”

You looked back down to the ground, looking at the three paths in front of you. They all look the same, save for the ground making up paths themselves, with the middle and right paths looking well worn with travel. And while they may be well worn, there was a voice at the back of your head that was whispering caution. The left-most path was not as well travelled, with dead vines covering parts of it.

“Hopefully you’re right, little buddy since I could use all the luck I can get.” And you made your way down the path, hoping that it was the correct one and didn’t lead you to your death or some other unpleasant thing.

…

…

Lilia was at the entrance of the labyrinth, in front of the two doors.

“Have you seen a human, about this tall, a bit of a temper, and smelling foul,” he asked the doors.

The doors looked at each other before looking at Lilia. “And what’s it to you,” they said in unison.

Lilia smiled, but it was one of mild annoyance, not joy or amusement. “Royal orders I fear. You wouldn’t want the mistress finding out about you both tampering with a royal matter, would you?” The smile turned cat-like since Lilia had backed them into a corner.

The doors paled, with the blue door speaking up. “No no, sir! We would never dream of such a thing!!! Yes, there was a human, a wretched one at that, horribly rude!”

Lilia hummed, cocking a brow at the door. “I do think wretched is a bit of an overstatement now,” he whispered to himself. “Well, tell me where about they are then. The sooner I can collect them, the better for you lot.”

The red door sighed, “Near the heart of it, they took the left path.”

Left path? Why the left path leads to… Shit. Lilia mentally groaned, knowing that regardless of the path you took, you would end up having to deal with them eventually. “Your cooperation has been noted,” is what he said though, giving the doors both a nod before turning into a bat and flying over the labyrinth, trying to find you before you ran into whoever them was.

“Please be clever enough not to die,” he whispered to no one, hoping that he didn’t have to deliver your body to the Queen.

…

…

The left path brought you to what looked like a forest; with old-growth trees, ferns and moss covering the ground, and a list mist hanging in the air. It was peaceful and beautiful, with the setting sun illuminating the mist without burning it away.

But that would not last, night was fast approaching and you had nothing to protect you this time; no rowan tree to haul your ass up, and no sort of weapon to protect yourself besides the oh-so-lovely smell of the bog to deter something from eating you. You were pretty sure it would also keep away anything that wanted to otherwise snatch you up.

“AH!” Something jumped out from a tree, and you couldn’t fully register what it was since you were also screeching, much like the creature was at you; you with fright, the creature with amusement and joy.

Two other creatures jumped out from behind the trees and startled cackling, jumping, and clapping. Together, they surrounded you, with no way to really escape them without fighting through.

… you really should have read about fae species, since you didn’t know what they exactly were, or how dangerous they were either. 

One pulled you near a pit and lit a fire, cackling in glee and dancing, trying to get you to join them. “Ah come on, human, have some fun! DANCE BABEY!!!!”

But you stayed still as more creatures came out of the shadows, dancing around the fire, giggling, cackling, and pulling a bit at your clothes to prompt you to join them. You didn’t know, cementing your feet down, your eyes watching their movements with caution.

‘Should you dance with the fae, you shall not stop dancing until you exhaust yourself. And once you wake up, you will continue dancing. This cycle will repeat itself until you dance to death.’ 

At least that was what the book said, and so you stayed still, regardless of how much the creatures pulled at you. While it looked like a grand old time, you remained where you were.

“I don’t have time for dancing,” you answered coldly, flinching from pinching fingers. You were also a bit shocked that Eau de Bog of Eternal Stench wasn’t keeping them away. Either, they couldn’t smell, or, they didn’t care that you smelled downright awful. “So this ‘baby’ won’t dance.”

And should I be offended by you calling me ‘baby’ or am I reading too much into it?

The main creature just shrugged and spun its dancing partner around. “Your loss human! More fun for us then! YIPPEE!!!” And it threw something in the fire to where you could feel the heat on your face.

What now? You were just standing there awkwardly as the creatures danced about, singing something that you couldn’t really make out. All you knew was that the heat, noise, and the dizzying dance of them was making your head pound, and throat scream in thirst. You hadn’t drank anything for over a day(?) — no, bog water did not count — and the heat from the fire made the thirst only worse. Shit.

“Ah, you don’t look too… hot there human,” one of the creatures snickered at its own joke at your expense. “Maybe if you dance with us, loosen up and have a bit of fun, then you can have a drink? Hmm? Dancing won’t kill you!” But its failed attempts at covering up its own malicious giggles were more than enough to stand your ground… which was coming at you quite fast since you practically collapsed.

Was it the thirst? The pounding migraine that wanted nothing more than to crawl into some dark hole and hide? Or your exhaustion from making that tiring trek, crawling yourself out of the bog and making the trek again, or the hours you had spent wandering around the maze with no real idea of where you were going? All you really knew was that you were now on the ground with the creatures poking at you to see if you were still alive.

“Aw, man! Are they already dead? That’s no fun!” One of the creatures pouted, raising up your arm, and you let it plop back to the ground. “Come on human! Get up! You’re not a party pooper are you?”

Scre you buddy! Can’t you read the situation?!

You were trying your best to stay quiet, which wasn’t all that hard, since all of your energy was gone. 

“They best not be,” a familiar voice called out.

From your position, you couldn’t see who it was, but you could make out the creatures jumping away from you like you were the hot fire instead of the fire pit. But someone else was approaching until you could make out a pair of shoes in front of your face.

They crouched down beside you, placing their fingers gently at the base of your throat; taking your pulse. “Hmph, playing dead, are we, Beastie?”

That irritating chuckle. The annoying nickname. Those mischievous magenta eyes that now looked at you with curiosity and amusement.

It was him — Mr. Sparkles.

And he had just blown your act of playing possum (well, not really, since you had actually collapsed).

But you didn’t say anything, instead favouring to give him a dirty look. Yet he just shook his head in jest, and proceeded to pick you up and wrap you around his shoulders and neck like some sort of bizarre ermine pelt; better than being carried like a sack of potatoes or the bridal carry you supposed.

“Her majesty sends her regards for not turning or killing her guest,” Lilia offered the creatures. It would be such a waste and pity to see such an entertaining Beastie leave us too soon now. “But do know she won’t take to their condition lightly.”

My condition? I’m not some Victorian child with some unknown illness wreaking havoc on their body you know?! But all that you did was groan and cough. You couldn’t even cough in Mr. Sparkles’ (Lilia’s) face, since you had a lovely view of the moss-covered ground and the fae’s shoes.

He patted the back of your calves, and you would have kicked him if you had more energy, but you didn’t. “Now, we really should be off, since Beastie has… an hour to get out of this maze before they turn into some sort of worm, or a hedge; never know what this old labyrinth will decide on really.” Lilia chuckled at the thought (was it merriment, or was he happy that you weren’t joining the caterpillar you met earlier?).

“No,” you wheezed. “WoRm!”

“See! They said it themself! No worm! How lovely that we are on a similar wavelength, Beastie! Marvellous even!” Lilia exclaimed, and the both of you started levitating off of the ground. “Now, do enjoy your party, Fireys!”

The creatures (Fireys apparently) groaned but got back to their party, dancing around the fire like they didn’t just try to lure you to your death mere minutes before.

“Tsk tsk, Beastie,” Lilia’s tutting brought your attention back to him and you grumbled. “You owe me two favours now, you know. Lucky that I found you… although that part wasn’t hard. I thought you learned your lesson the first time you decided to take a dip into the Bog of Eternal Stench?”

You lightly kicked him, letting your irritation be known, but Lilia just hummed. “Now now, no need to be like that! Do you want to smell like a bog when you meet the mistress? She wouldn’t take kindly to your… unique aroma.”

You hissed out a breath since he decided to pinch at your ear rather harshly — prompting for you to answer. “No,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Also, do read up on that book, since you will want to know about the government and fae species etiquette!”

From a smelly bog and fumbling around a maze for hours on end, to finding yourself being taken to fae high society… was it too late to become some worm in the maze? I think being a worm actually has a better chance of me living.

But sadly, you were saved from an eternity of being a worm. Hopefully, Mr. Sparkles (Lilia) would cover for your blunders a little for when you found yourself in front of ‘the mistress’.

...

...

...

...

To be continued!

~~~~~~~

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog @cheezy-moon @eynnwwyjth @identity-theft-101 @ithseem @lucid-stories @ryker-writes @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

Link to Masterlist

[phoenixcatch7]

In love with the idea of captain marvel being Billy's imaginary friend. Like, it'd be so easy. Early depictions had them as almost fully separate people sometimes, like one soul with two minds, rather than just two filters like we mostly see now.

But imagine a Billy down on his luck, hurt and hiding from police and criminals alike, daydreaming the hours away as children do, taking inspiration from all the superheroes rising to fame, making little stories to play out his dreams of saving the world with a generic action doll he found while dumpster diving once. Most of the paint's rubbed off.

Red's his favourite colour, his comfiest jumper is a bright ruby even after all the grime and washes. Gold, too, it's shiny and warmer than silver! A hero cape is a must, big and eye catching! And he can fly, of course, like superman, and in his daydreams, when he's sore and frustrated after a long day's grind, his superhero is smart enough and knows all the right words to get the bullies to stop without resorting to fighting.

His superhero fantasy is one he spends a lot of time on, the first one he goes for when struggling to sleep at night, and he can picture it so clearly. Captain marvel is big and bright and kind, strong enough to lift the boxes for the old lady up the road who's moving all by himself, fast enough to catch Jamie who fell out of the tree on Saturday and broke his leg and couldn't come to class for weeks. He appears at the entrance to alleys when Billy is cornered, he steps up behind to cover for him when he gets caught shoplifting, he sits at the bus stop with him when it's pouring rain and the right bus doesn't seem to be coming.

And then the wizard comes, or rather whisks him away, and like a magician from a fairytale breathes life into his imaginary friend until Billy feels thrice his size and a million times more invincible.

From then on, captain marvel is a real hero, just like Billy is a real boy, and as one they save the whole city, and then the whole world, and get cats down from trees and help Mrs Victoria move the last of her boxes and she gives them a pinch in the cheek and cookies for the road and sometimes it hurts but it's so much better than he imagined.

[star-lights-up]

I'm having thoughts again (it's a very dangerous thing, thinking is): Cherik matilda au, with Jean as matilda. Honestly, it'd probably be a jean-centric fic, background cherik, because i mean miss honey doesn't have a love interest in the original lol. (Oh, right, Charles = miss honey. Erik also kind of = miss honey. they're sharing the role.)

ALSO i'm basing this on the book and the original movie, not the musical and musical movies. I love all incarnations of matilda but I am too tired to work in the whole premonition story thing.

So Jean is just chilling. She's like two years old and already she can cook and clean and pretty much be self sufficient. Her parents are self-absorbed assholes who don't really pay her any mind, and her brother is a little shit who's older than her and never home anyways.

She goes to the library, and she reads. She expands her horizons. She learns. She develops a yearning to see the world outside of her lonely little life -- she may be self-sufficient, but it doesn't mean she doesn't want any friends.

Now, when she's six, she tells her parents that she really should've started school already, and her dad makes a deal with this terrifying man to send her off to Hellfire Elementary (sounds like a great place for kids, amiright?)

There she meets Ororo, who's funny and nice, and then there's Logan, this older kid who's absolutely TERRIFYING (at least he thinks he is, jean's calling his bs). He warns them about the headmaster -- Shaw. The truly terrifying one.

Shaw in this isn't really the kevin bacon shaw. He's like if shaw lost his fucking marbles and became a really buff lunatic. He throws a girl wearing her hair in pigtails over the fence. It's insane.

Then Jean goes to her class. The first years have two teachers -- Mr. Lehnsherr and Mr. Xavier, who tells them just to call him Charles as long as Shaw's not around.

The classroom is kind of amazing. They've got art by students hanging everywhere and cute little posters and vases of wildflowers, the doors opened to the school grounds and filtering in the last of the warm summer air. To Jean, it feels magical. She's finally at school. She finally feels like she's going to get to be in the world. She chats with Ororo and some kid named Scott before the bell rings.

(Now for teaching duo cherik! I'm thinking for them, this is an established relationship fic. )

They've both been hurt by shaw (more on that later) to the point where they've become more muted versions of their personalities.

Charles is kind, as he always is, but in this he's very soft-spoken and stuff. Even as he smiles warmly at the kids, checking on the girl with the pigtails, Jean notices this deep sadness in his eyes.

And then there's Erik. He's quiet, very matter-of-fact when he does speak up, methodical. He's very gentle with all of the children, though, and Jean sees him tracking Charles with his eyes, as though he's sure something awful will happen to him as soon as he lets him out of his sight. Again, his eyes hold some deep sadness, some hidden pain.

As the lessons begin, they're shocked by Jean. Her reading, her writing. Her incredible math abilities.

( found this cute little line from the original book, and i wanted to adapt it (very erik-core):

"It's not fair," Ororo says, "How can she do it and we can't?"

"Don't worry, Ororo, you'll soon catch up," Mr. Lehnsherr says, lying through his teeth. )

After class is over, Charles wants to talk to Shaw, try and get Jean in a more advanced grade. Erik doesn't want him to go. They go together, and Shaw pretty much yells at them and threatens them until they leave.

They decide to think of another way to go -- they can't have jean just sitting in class, learning how to spell r-a-t when she's read shakespeare already.

Back at home, for another week or so, Jean's life continues much the same as it always does. Her parents: the assholes. Then her father takes her and her brother into work one day, telling his son he needs to learn the family trade. Jean's just there.

He shows them all sorts of illegal things he does to the cars before he sells them -- sawdust in the engine, running the miles backwards until the car seems barely used. It's not legal. Worse, it's not safe.

Jean speaks out and gets yelled at.

So she finds some superglue and glues his stupid hat to his head the next day. And so starts her rebellion.

Charles and Erik decide that perhaps it's best to speak to Jean's parents directly. Cue creepy CGI cherik from the last stand. No, no, I'm kidding. They just show up there, try to talk to the greys, who really aren't having it, and before they leave Erik sneaks a book behind a coat rack, Jean smiling at him from where she's hidden on the stairwell, having listened to the whole thing.

Jean plays another prank on her parents for treating her teachers so bad (blabbermouth parrot in the chimney. Mrs. Grey is convinced they've got a ghost).

Meanwhile, at school, Charles and Mr. Lehnsherr give her all these workbooks with more difficult math and language and science, apologizing that they can't instruct her directly or get her into a more advanced class but promising to help if she has any questions (she doesn't).

Anyways. Then we get to the interesting part.

It's been a while, and Jean's seen the horrors of Shaw. He made a boy eat a whole cake in front of the school. he throws kids out windows. And there's this terrible thing called the chokey.

Shaw comes into their classroom to teach his monthly class -- Charles and Mr. Lehnsherr quickly hiding all the art and decorations in the room.

Ororo sneaks a newt into shaw's water. Pandemonium breaks out. Shaw starts targeting poor scott, of all people, who's not capable of breaking a rule.

Something in Jean snaps. And the glass tips over, sending the newt right onto shaw and shaw right out of their classroom.

After class, she explains it to Charles and Mr. Lehnsherr. She shows them what she can do. With just a little bit of anger, she can push the glass over.

The two teachers glance at each other (after being quite shocked, of course), then Charles asks if she'd like to have tea, and talk about this more, if her parents wouldn't mind.

Jean knows that they most certainly don't care where she is, and agrees.

Charles and Mr. Lehnsherr bring her to a small cottage, surrounded by wildflowers. The walls are whitewashed. There are two little windows. Charles spreads cheap margarine on the toast. Mr. Lehnsherr pulls two chipped mugs out -- there doesn't appear to be a third. The kitchen is just a shelf, really, with a little portable stove.

Charles asks Jean if she'd be willing to get them some water from the well out back. She has a wonderful time doing so, never having drawn from a well before.

She and Charles have tea and toast, sitting on the crates that are the only furniture in the whole of the tiny cottage. Mr. Lehnsherr sits cross-legged on the floor, leaning against Charles's crate a little and not eating or drinking anything.

Jean, as a small child -- because, yes, no matter how smart and independent she is, she's still a small child -- asks a few questions that might be a little too personal, inquiring about just how poor their salaries are to live like this.

"Why shouldn't you ask?" Charles says, after Jean apologizes. "You were bound to ask in the end. You are much to bright to not have wondered. Perhaps... Perhaps we even wanted you to ask."

Erik nods his head, saying his solemn voice, "You're our first visitor, after all."

Quietly, a little sadly, Charles begins to tell Jean a story. He once lived in a large brick house in town. His mother passed when he was born, and his father was absent until he died, leaving him in the care of an uncle. The uncle brought with him a ward, Erik.

The uncle was an unkind man. He forced them to work around the clock, doing the household chores and the cooking and anything else he could think of, like they were servants and not young children. He would beat them if they disobeyed -- and even when they didn't.

They managed to go to the teacher's college about forty minutes away when they both turned eighteen. They could've gone to university -- but the evil man wouldn't allow it.

"How did you get away?" Jean asks, equally riveted and in deep sympathy for her kind teachers.

They tell a story of being forced to sign away their salaries to the uncle, since apparently they "owed him thousands" for being just barely fed and clothed for ten years. With the little that they got to keep, it seemed they would never get a place of their own...

But Mr. Lehnsherr, on his early morning walks, stumbled into a small, empty cottage. He went to find out who owned it, and the farmer, after insisting he didn't want to live there, agreed to rent it out for ten pence a month.

Charles and Mr. Lehnsherr (who, at a point, sighed and told Jean just to call him Erik since they're not at school) quietly packed their things, informed the evil man that they'd rented a house, and rushed out the door.

While Jean is happy for their triumph, she's aghast of the idea of the evil man still living in Charles's old home. He says that his father's will was apparently destroyed ("no prizes for guessing who," Jean says, and Erik huffs a laugh) and his uncle produced a piece of paper saying the house was to go to him -- Charles is sure it was counterfeit, but there's nothing he can do.

"He still owns my family property a town over, too," Erik says quietly. "Won in much the same fashion." His hands are balled into fists, his face mournful and angry. He doesn't elaborate, and Jean and Charles are smart enough not to push.

Jean asks who the evil man is.

With a glance at his partner, Charles says the name "Shaw."

After the initial shock, the conversation changes, and Jean eventually excuses herself to go home. Charles and Erik apologize for keeping her so late, walking her to the end of the dirt road and back to the sidewalk.

Before they part, Jean asks a few questions: what did Charles's father call him before he passed? Charlie. He hated it. What did charles and Erik's parents call Shaw? Sebastian. His first name. And what did he call their parents? Brian, Charles answers. ...Edie, Erik whispers after a moment of hesitation.

Jean practices her new gift at home. It's not long until she can lift things at whim, pointing at them or staring at them or just thinking of it. She plots. She plans. She practices what's needed for her plots and her plans.

The next time Shaw comes into their classroom, he's startled by the whiteboard chalk floating into the air, beginning to write a message:

Sebastian, give my Charlie back his house. Give him and Erik their wages. Give Erik his land. Then get out of here. If you don't, we will get you. We will get you like you got us. We are watching you, Sebastian.

There is a great commotion as Shaw passes out on the floor in shock. He's carted out of the school. He leaves the brick house within a day. Reportedly, Brian Xavier's will turns up. Charles and Erik move into the great house. Charles is appointed headmaster of the newly christened "Big Friendly School." (Note: this is taken from the source material. I don't think charles would name something after himself in this au tbh). Jean is a welcome visitor anytime.

Then, one day, arriving back from the brick house in the evening, she finds her parents packing up the car. They're moving to spain, they say. Her father has been caught, which they don't say, but is clear.

Jean runs all the way back to Charles and Erik's house. Jean begs them to let her stay -- she doesn't want to leave, and she certainly doesn't want to be trapped with her parents forever in a foreign country.

Charles and Erik come with her back to her house. She takes some adoption papers out, which, funnily enough, she's had since she was tall enough to use the copier at the library! Boss move, Jean.

her parents don't fucking care, so they sign the papers. Charles and Erik are pretty much about to cry. They're parents, now, something they never thought they could be. They hug Jean, something her own parents never did, and don't bother to watch them leave.

Now, they all live in the big brick house together, and it's a house full of reading and laughter and life, all three of them, daughter and her fathers, finding a kind of happiness they never thought they'd be able to have.

and that's it. Why did I spend two hours writing this. 😂

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Sasha using the title "Lord" in RiAAU after taking over Toad Tower and presumably killing Grime and stealing Barrel's Warhammer from him, and other political and military leaders assuming she's a man because, well, Sasha is a gender neutral name, so they hear Lord Sasha and assume they're talking about an adult male toad warrior. The second most powerful person in the known world and only real threat to the Leviathan reign!

Cue princess Marcy fleeing Newtopia and her father seeking refuge with his worst enemy hoping to offer information and political levarage in exchange for protection, perhaps even offering herself in marriage to transfer eventual inheritances and whatnot, and she finds out that Lord Sasha is not, indeed, a dark and domineering toad warlord, but a beautiful, terrifying girl her age that looks like her and oh god her poor little lesbian heart can barely take it.

[zivvis]

guy who crossed the country just to buy a necklace instantly gets roasted by the guy he bought the necklace for

genuinely tho this line got me so good. like yes I thought it would be that easy but I'm so glad it isn't! feels like gore wouldn't even be gore if his romance started with or hinged on a piece of jewelry

[rathayibacter]

Draconic Reproduction

The first dragons were born from man's fear of the unknown: a dragon would be born slumbering in the heart of a terrible storm whenever it tore apart a village, or would come crashing from the mountaintop when a volcano erupted. As science and magic have progressed, the unknown has been beaten back, and these forms of spontaneous generation have become rarer. As a result, dragons have found new ways to reproduce.

Some dragons practice Budding, where they grow multiple heads from the same shoulders. These heads are new consciousnesses just as brilliant as the original's, and upon being severed will become great winding serpents. Oftentimes, a dragon with more than five or so heads will begin actively seeking out foes to decapitate them, as the bickering and politicking between heads becomes too much to bear.

Dragonblood, when it falls to earth, mixes with the dirt and stone to form kobolds. A single splatter of blood might just make one or two, but a ferocious battle can sometimes give rise to a whole community of kobolds, who very quickly set about getting themselves into trouble. Kobolds don't tend to live longer than a few years, but in the rare case when one manages to molt a hundred or so times they'll become a whole new dragon.

Some dragons collect great glittering hoards of gold, which they use to transmit the Glimmering Curse. Dragonslayers and thieves alike find themselves tempted by such impossible riches, and will attempt to flee with whatever they can carry. The obsession grows roots in their soul, leading them to greater and greater acts of avarice, until eventually they cut the last ties holding them to humanity and instantly erupt with wing and claw and fang.

A rare few dragons still maintain the ancient art of Dreamsong, most closely related to the births of the primordial dragons. With Dreamsong, the dragon appears in a mortal's dreams in a strange and wonderful form, and spends many tender hours with them there. The mortal wakes up remembering little but a warm feeling, but weeks later will stumble upon an egg, half-buried in the earth, from which will hatch a beautiful child with golden slitted eyes.

[cream-and-tea]

oh pallas and agnes power dynamic you really are SO unbelievably fucked,,,,,

[originalcontent]

If good and evil did exist as immutable forces (a la Gary Gygaxian-style alignment chart) and as attributes of personhood irrespective of actions one takes upon the world what's the foundational tenet of each? Is good about striving to help others and evil about indifference to the suffering of others? Or is speaking purely about outlook rather than actions, does evil necessitate some sort of active malice? Or is it better to just throw the words out there and let them be interpreted however by whoever?

[zu-is-here]

Deceived child

Thank you @fructik-shu for inviting to join the chain! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)♪ (Your babies and manosaldibujo's Caleb are ow wow (//∇//))

It would be unfair to deprive many others of the opportunity to try out this interesting challenge, so mb the tag "like a villain" would work for everyone? (*ﾟ∀ﾟ*) I would love to see more bad guysss ☆

[glitter-stained]

Oh hey check that out:

This is from BoP(1999) #34

Fanon invention my ass

[ratatatastic]

men who have a normal relationship with each other and the cup

[ladymidnight-goesforth]

Tamlin Week 2024, Day 4: (a belated) Happily Ever After

@tamlinweek

We stood atop the hill in silence, until the setting sun gilded the house and the hills and the world and Lucien called us to dinner. ~ A Court of Thorns and Roses, ch. 45

This was inspired by the meadow scene in Studio Ghibli's "Howl's Moving Castle", hence the Ghibli-esque illustration style I went for here.

Many pro-Tamlin fans prefer to think of ACOTAR as a standalone book, and I am no exception. So my contribution to the "Happily Ever After" theme is them walking off into the sunset at the end of book 1. I hope you like it.

I am the artist. Please do not repost without permission.

[icewindandboringhorror]

sneeping with his legs up over his head for some reason... weird boye

[rocktis]

fanon my beloved vs. fanon my beloathed

beloved - zack's nicknames for cloud (spikey, sunshine, cloudy, etc) - kunsel has hacked into shinra's database and could cause massive damage to the company on a whim by tapping a few keys beloathed - "zack's so stupid lol he's such a himbo" - "cloud's just a cocky asshole who doesn't care about anything but money and himself"