#uhhhhh do i need a tag for this

[nymphoutofwater]

just discovered this thingy, so thought i might as well make one :>

send me yours if you make/made one <3

[keferon]

I keep drawing Roddy as this (•‿•) thing lol. I need to give him a proper design asap haha

[stiffyck]

was thinking about the fact that peter currently has like absolutely no one (fuck no way home) and i just think that he should get attached to moon knight.

(i need to see marc accidentally adopting a very lonely teenager okay. steven would love peter i know this in my heart.)

[chryso-chryso]

sorry man i don't think you're going to beat the cat allegations with this one

[loud-whistling-yes]

so as literally everyone following me in the past 24 hours knows, im fucking obsessed with her. take her shes everything i have

[marblerose-rue]

click for better quality!

the perched king / tigerstar I

[squeemy-adventures]

NO SQUEEMY!!! HOLDING IT IN DOESNT DO ANYTHING!!!

[the-haven-keepers-collective]

Unreasonably long post about plural shit

So I'm gonna be honest and uncharacteristically vulnerable for a second because I think people might relate or have internalized similar things. My name is Pyre; at least that's what I'll be going by on Tumblr. I'm a fictive, some of you might've already seen me sign off on comments or something using my source name but I don't really care. Also I'm not Techno, he's open about his source. Thought I'd get that out of the way for those of you who know us. Pyre is a very Techno name though and I just stole it faster.

Anyway, to the point: We've seen posts shouting out systems/collectives who are "too similar," particularly median systems and such who experience a lot of internal fakeclaiming and imposter syndrome because of that. This is for the non-median systems who are "too similar," though. This is part a post to point out their validity, and part a post talking about my own experience so far with that.

In my source, I'm kind of a badass. I was admittedly an asshole, and very misguided, but at least within my canon (within the shows canon is questionable, we never did finish it rip) I was fighting for what I believed was right. Fighting for those who fall through the cracks for no good reason, for those that get hurt for things they can't control. If I were brought here, in this world, in my own body, I wouldn't afraid of shit. I'd gladly punt a transphobe. I wouldn't shy away from conflict; sometimes conflict is how progress happens.

In reality, I don't have my own body. And one of the things about our body is, well, its nervous system is wired to treat any small amount of conflict as a threat. We're incredibly risk averse, and this isn't a personality trait, it's built in. No one in our collective is likely to ever take an opportunity, no matter how well laid out, to call out someone being an asshole or have some witty comeback to a transphobe or whatever. We won't even think of one. That's wired into our nervous system, it's just how our body reacts to danger. We stumble over ourselves if we try to do anything other than freeze.

This isn't a fault. This wouldn't be overwritten by sheer personality and willpower in a "real system." Some systems, maybe, but not all. So for those of you who feel like you "should" be a certain way and just can't because it's built into the body you're in to act differently; you're not any lesser for it. Whether you're a fictive, sourced in some way, have a certain role that "should" be different, your personality is just like that, or some other reason I can't think of- don't be too hard on yourself for things you can't control. The body you're in just wants to protect you.

Even if sometimes, you (and I) strongly disagree with it on what exactly that means.

-Pyre

[hotdogmchiggin]

Ma there’s a weird fucking dog outside

I drew spice from @hoofpeet’s replacement ingo au because he’s just a spicy lil guy :) very creachure. Very good.

Bonus: He’s thinking 😈evil thoughts😈

[avacdavra]

Blessed be the Daughters of Cain

[pigswithwings]

back at it again at Krispy Kreme

[ihearnocomplaints]

me if uhhhh me if you uh if you reblog my art and give me love and attention

[rking200]

Stratford Handoff

Simon is tasked with bringing Markus the uniform he needed during the Stratford Tower raid. They overlooked the option of hiding the uniform with the help of the ceiling tiles, so Simon stands in a closed stall and awaits Markus' tap at the door, a neatly-folded uniform in his hands.

2.5k words, chapter one of a three chapter SimonxMarkus angst/hurt-comfort/R18 fic. Nothing R18 happens in this chapter, just a bit of kissing and making out. Angst will be next chapter, then hurt-comfort into R18 for the last. Will be posted to AO3 upon completion.

The plan made perfect sense, and while carrying it out had been no easy task for Simon, he did appreciate knowing how much Markus trusted him. Markus blending in as a working android was such an integral part of the plan and the uniform pristinely folded in Simon's hands hadn't wound up there by pure chance. Part of Simon believed that he was seen as expendable by Markus--that he had seen merit in North and Josh and was worried about putting their lives in danger for the plan, while it might be worth it for Simon's life to be lost for their cause. Of course he tried not to heed the dark whispers, but they were there nonetheless. Simon's eyes darted to the stall door handle in front of him at the sound of the main door opening, but was able to relax when he heard another stall open and close. He shifted his weight and begged his hands not to wrinkle the uniform as he gripped it, closing his eyes and pushing his dark whispers and his anxieties out of his head for a few brief moments of respite: standby.

Simon was quick to move when he heard the gentle rhythmic tap of Markus' knuckle against the stall door. Quiet enough to not alert any human in the bathroom, but loud enough to give Simon's thirium pump a start. Flicking the lock open, Simon shifted aside to allow Markus to enter and lock the door back behind him. Because he had been the first to leave Jericho to start putting their plan in motion, Simon had yet to see Markus all dressed up in his suit. He really wore it well, and passed for a human perfectly. 「Simon?」

Simon pursed his lips at Markus' voice in his head, shaking his head and closing his eyes tight in order to focus them again. 「Sorry, Markus.」 His hands quivered slightly as he loosened his grip, allowing Markus to take the clothes from him. 「That suits you.」 Markus' perplexed look sent Simon slightly on edge. He hadn't meant to think that thought loud enough for it to connect with Markus, but there was no doubt that Markus had heard it. He let out a quiet yet audible chuckle, his eyes trained on Simon as his hands fumbled with his tie.

「Was...was that a pun? You didn't seem like the type, Simon.」

Simon blinked a few times, and his LED must have turned yellow because Markus' playful eyes darted over to Simon's temple. Ever since he fell into Jericho's hull, Markus had a permanently planted serious expression, and this was the first time he saw his brow relaxed, his eyes sparkle, and his lips parted in a smile. With a few more blinks, Simon tilted his head to the side, looking down to both physically remove his gaze from Markus' kind eyes and parted lips, and to blatantly put his stress on display by fully showing his blinking, yellow LED. He shifted his jaw as he searched for the words that he could not find.

「Relax.」 Markus took a step towards Simon, who couldn't help but take a half step back. His eyes were gentle but stared at him with the intensity of their cause shining through. He reached out and planted his hands firmly on either of Simon's shoulders. 「The plan is airtight. There's nothing to worry about. We get up there, send out our message and leave as quickly as we can. We've got this.」

Simon's eyes moved between Markus', and he let out a shaky, held breath. 「I know. We've got this.」 Markus offered a gentle smile before moving away. Simon watched him fumble with his tie a moment longer before moving forward, holding his breath once again and gently pressing his fingertips between the layers of fabric, unknotting it. 「First time?」

「My owner never wore ties. Josh, uh, Josh helped me tie it.」 Simon thought that was rather nice of Josh, but he'd be lying if he said the image of Josh stooping down to help a struggling Markus wasn't a funny one. He'd have to remember to ask him about it when they got back to Jericho. Simon didn't have a chance to step away from Markus before he started unbuttoning his white shirt. Simon's hands had barely let the two ends of the tie go before Markus pulled at his vest and shrugged his jacket and shirt off his shoulders, and he found his hands reaching for the warm, discarded clothes as Markus held them out to him. Simon was used to wearing more layers than what was provided in his current disguise, and for a split second he considered holding the bundle of warmth closer to himself, but he was worried that he was already making this situation tense enough. Simon closed his eyes in an attempt to stop them from wandering, but found them open again and trailing down Markus' chest. He watched Markus shift and tilt his head as he held up the uniform, attempting to make sense of it. Markus leaned over towards Simon, who straightened up and kept intense eye contact. What was he doing? Why was he getting so close? Markus shifted on his feet, pivoting away from Simon after depositing the hat, pants and over shirt momentarily. Simon's eyes were free to dart over him with his back turned, and he only had a moment until the long-sleeved undershirt would cover up his skin. He followed the curve of his side, pausing to notice the dip in his lower back before following his spine to his shoulder blades. He attempted to commit the image to memory, unintentionally furrowing his brows in the process. He noticed as Markus pulled the shirt down over his head, following the black hem down to his waist, but was not attentive enough to see Markus glance at him over his shoulder as his fingers tugged the hem down to his waistband. Simon was far too focused on the intake of information, as well as the intent to not openly share his thoughts with Markus. Markus turning, however, was a different story. Simon's eyes snapped up to his as he held the rest of the uniform out to Markus. Markus held his gaze as he took the pants, only breaking their eye contact to briefly glance to his own shoes, stepping out of them before reaching for his belt. Simon knew it was better for his own sanity to look away, and he did. He tilted his head to the side to give Markus privacy, but couldn't help but wonder why Markus didn't turn away like he had done before. Arguably, taking his pants off was more revealing than his shirt, but of course Markus probably wasn't thinking like that. There were more important matters at hand, and Simon shook his head in disappointment with himself, ever so slightly sighing. He needed to be better than this.

「You know, Simon...」 He risked a glance to meet Markus' eyes at the mention of his name. It was definitely a mistake--Markus was still in the process of putting his new pair of pants on. That mischievous look was still playing in the reflections on Markus' eyes, and Simon felt trapped no matter where he was looking. 「I thought having you helping me here was the safest option. Maybe--」 Markus' eyes darted to Simon's LED, which Simon was unaware of the color, 「--maybe I was wrong.」 Red, probably. At least it was now. 「Well.」 Simon had meant to immediately continue the thought, but the image of Markus buttoning his pants was too much to allow that to happen. Markus shook his head slightly, and Simon was relieved for the smile that plagued his lips, and that he didn't seem outwardly angry with him. Markus moved closer to place more warm clothes in his hands. His fingers hovered over the brim of the hat, but he didn't move away. Markus tilted his head to the side, as if asking for Simon to continue his previous thought. 「I think it was the best option.」 The thought was very forced, and he hated watching Markus take notice of his LED yet again. It really wasn't fair, especially since Markus had gotten rid of his own...Simon momentarily considered when he'd have time to remove his. But now wasn't the time for his mind to wander, because Markus was still right there, he wasn't moving. Simon felt his brow furrow ever so slightly as he searched for something in Markus' eyes. Some reason why he wasn't leaving the stall. North was waiting for him, and Simon had another part to play before they met up on the broadcasting floor. 「Simon.」 Markus' voice was gentle and innocent in his head, and Simon unconsciously shifted his jaw to the side, wearily casting his eyes up to meet his. Simon almost couldn't physically take their closeness, and felt his mind race as Markus leaned closer still, his eyes burning through Simon's thoughts, leaving him nothing but an incoherent jumble in his head. He felt a breath escape his lips, and Simon couldn't help but feel that Markus had stolen it. A hot huff of air escaped Markus, as well, and Simon breathed it in, happy to steal his breath in return.

Simon kept unwavering eye contact as Markus' lips barely brushed his own, sending a shock through every fiber of his being. Markus' firm hand rested on top of the bundle of clothes in Simon's hands, pressing down ever so slightly on him. The tension between their lips was unbearable. Their warm breaths collided between them, Simon's shaky and wavering ones against Markus' warm and steady ones. And when Markus finally did give into Simon's pleading, shivering lips, he kept his eyes trained on Simon's. Simon felt violated: it wasn't a negative feeling, but he felt so laid bare against Markus' gaze and against his lips. Simon couldn't handle the feeling any longer, and shut his eyes so that he could focus more on the physical part of this and less on the soul-searching gaze Markus was trying so hard to hold.

Their lips parted before Markus pressed again, tilting his head more to press their lips together tighter still. Simon unknowingly let down his guard, but he did, sighing into his lips and relaxing against him. His lips tingled with sensations he very well could handle, but that drove him so unbelievably insane. Without thinking twice, Simon's lips were void of the human façade that always incased them, and he took a moment to take a short breath of hot air before pressing them against Markus' own silver and blue-toned lips, feeling something so much more than before. The feelings of tenderness and understanding laid before him, and all he had to do was press his lips against Markus' to feel utterly engulfed in them. He's sure that he thought a lot of things to Markus: his name, about how nice it felt, about how incredibly warm Markus was, but Simon wasn't in the mindset to control how loud his thoughts were right now. He was in the mindset to enjoy this blessing while it lasted. Markus deepened the kiss, moving his hands to Simon's hips and pulling him closer as his tongue passed over Simon's bottom lip. Simon hadn't meant to let go of the clothes he had been entrusted with, but he heard the soft sounds of cloth fall to the floor between them. He placed his own hands ever so gently on Markus' chest, not pushing away but just feeling his warmth beneath them. If Markus was throwing thoughts in his direction, Simon was none the wiser. Their lips parted for a moment before Simon moved forward to close the gap, prompting Markus' hands to grip his hips tighter. Simon couldn't take the slight, continuous pressure from Markus and he leaned back into the wall behind him. Markus followed, the fingertips on his right hand sending a shock through Simon's system as they snaked under the hem of his shirt. Slowly, Markus ran his hand over his side, resting it along the back of his hip. Instinctively, perhaps, the skin on Simon's hip reacted to the lack of faux skin on Markus, and their true skin--smooth and white--met with an intense shock, as if Simon had been tossed into the waters by Jericho. Their bare lips touching had felt so different than the touch of his hand on him, and he wasn't sure if it was purely the intent of the action or if he was just that weak to someone grabbing his hip, android skin or not. Either way, Simon knew they had to stop here, before his resolve fully melted away from the extended close proximity with Markus' burning form.

Simon's hand moved before his lips could, disconnecting their android skin by grabbing Markus' wrist from over his shirt. "Markus." His voice was gentle, pleading even. He was sure he had the most pathetic look on his face, while Markus was paired with a furrowed brow and a warm smolder in his eyes. Everything about him was just so warm. He moved away, stooping down to gather the clothes Simon had dropped. Simon took the clothes back, watching him closely for any signs of anger, but Markus only took a moment to compose himself before slipping back into his shoes and placing his hat neatly atop his head. He glanced back, holding Simon's gaze for far too long before offering a gentle smile. 「I'd like to try that again, back in Jericho. For now, let's focus on the plan.」

Simon felt a chill go up his spine, and he wasn't sure if it was brought on by Markus' voice in his head, or if it was merely that Markus had taken that warmth with him when he left. 「Right. I'll meet up with Josh. ...Markus, stay safe.」 Markus merely nodded before taking his leave of the stall, leaving Simon alone with his thoughts and these not-as-warm clothes after having pushed the lock back into place. He waited a moment. They didn't have a lot of time, but he could afford to steel his nerves for a second longer. His hand instinctively touched where Markus' had previously been, both on his hip and then gently reaching up to his lips. Simon couldn't think about how perfect all that had been. He stepped up on the toilet, pushing up on the ceiling tile in order to put Markus' suit away from prying eyes. Pausing, Simon thought that maybe this would've been easier had he dropped the uniform off up here, allowing Markus to change into it without the need for a hand-to-hand exchange. He pushed the thought out of his mind because he wouldn't trade their last interaction for the world.

Stepping out of the stall, Simon focused on looking natural and controlling the color of his LED. He briskly left with his own stolen keycard, ready to meet up with Josh and wait in the service elevator for the last leg of their plan. Things were changing already, and for once...Simon felt optimistic. Everything was going to be okay because Markus was here with them now. They were going to earn their freedom via his lead, no doubt about it.

[mirrortouchedsea]

dark. that was all he had ever known. cold, dark, damp. the boy shivers in the small room, painfully alone, only a book and his magic to keep him company. he tries not to use his magic very often, though. it seemed that the people above knew when he used it and they always always always refused to give him food until he “woke up” next, if they bothered to keep track of that. maybe this time he’ll learn their lesson. the boy whispers his spell, cur memini, and creates a small light in his fingers. this is the only spell he can cast safely, too small to be noticeable by the people above. he holds his hand over the fading book on the floor. the boy can’t read the letters on the page, but this book has pictures. he flips through it again, careful of the pages that were falling apart, admiring the figure in armor who always comes to rescue the figure in the tower, cut off from the world, just like him. the boy frequently dreams of a figure in armor coming to save him, despite the years he has spent alone. dark and cold and damp. 

the room the boy lives in, the only room he has memories of, is empty besides himself and the book. sometimes the people above would give him water and stale bread to eat, and then there was a cup and a dirty plate, but otherwise it was just the boy and the book. the boy knows why the people above have locked him away, they told him that he was a freak of nature, unnatural, dangerous. but the boy could only make lights in his palm, and that wasn’t very dangerous at all. he thinks to himself that the people above are the dangerous ones, locking away a child for something like this, but he can’t say that out loud. he doesn’t want to die again. 

the boy’s stomach grumbles and he curls in on himself, the light in his palm fades out. he longs to see the sun again, to play with the other children he can hear through the ceiling, to be normal. the people above must have decided to punish him again, though, as he doesn’t remember the last time he had anything to drink, to eat. his stomach would eat through his skin and he would still wake up the next day. why can’t he just die once and for all and be rid of the pain? why is the world keeping him here? why was he even born?

the boy closes his eyes, and falls asleep. maybe this time it won’t hurt so much. 

--- 

how long has he been here? the boy doesn’t keep track of time. he knows he’s died at least a dozen times, but how long does it take for a dozen lifetimes to pass? 

--- 

a clattering on the floor wakes the boy up. the people above decided he can eat today. stale bread and water again, but better than nothing to the boy. he crawls closer to it, listening to the door. it closes and the voices disappear. where was the sound of the lock? did they forget? 

the boy scarfs down his food and water before tiptoeing up the stairs. he doesn’t hear any voices, but he needs to be careful. he doesn’t remember what the above looks like, but he needs to leave. he needs to be free. 

slowly, quietly, he opens the door. it’s dark on the other side of it, but still much, much brighter than his room ever was. he closes his eyes but keeps the door open. breathe in, and out. opens his eyes again, blinking the brightness away. pushes the door further open. steps on the hard ground outside the door. he’s so close. closes the door quietly. turns around and holds his breath. where was outside? pick a direction and go. his legs hurt. turn the corner, listen for voices. voices are dangerous, get away from the voices. whisper his spell, create a small light. keep moving keep moving keep moving. window ahead. break it? open it? is he strong enough? lift the window up. too weak. voices coming. hurry hurry hurry must get out now. whisper spell again, hand on window. break the glass and jump through it. cuts on feet cuts on legs deal with that later. voices getting louder voices shouting. run run RUN. 

the boy runs away from the building, away from his room. freedom is so close. first get to the trees, then… he hasn’t thought that far, but he will find a way. gunshots from the house. he runs faster, must get to the trees, must hide, must be free. cur memini, he whispers again, crossing into the forest. his spell can make lights and now break windows, but he needs it to protect him at this moment. run run run until the voices are quiet again. his legs are giving out, but he needs to run. he can’t die now or they’ll find him. keep running. bare feet on sticks and stones and sharp things, everything hurts but he can’t stop. he keeps running until the sun comes up. his heart beats out of his chest. 

--- 

when he wakes up he doesn’t know how much time has passed. his heart beats fast and he sits up. did they find him? he looks around. trees, rocks, a gurgling stream. he’s free. he’s free. he sighs and lays back down. how far did he run? he needs to go further. away from other people, away from anyone who might lock him up again. he sits up again and forces himself to stand and walk towards the sound of the stream. he can start there. water is important, and he might be able to get food from the little stream too. 

his first drink of the stream water is icy cold, quenching his lifelong thirst in just a few swallows. he washes his face with it, removing years of sweat and grime. he wants to sit by the stream forever if only he could, but the people will find him eventually if he doesn’t keep moving. but he allows himself a few minutes to bathe in the water, savoring the feeling of water on his skin. his stomach still growls, wanting something more filling than the freezing water of the stream, but that would have to wait. he needs to get his bearings. 

the light of the outside world is almost blinding, he realizes. the sun and the snow made it almost impossible to see anything. he should get up above the trees. can he even do that? cur memini, he says, trying to get his voice to be louder than a whisper. his feet float a few inches above the ground. he closes his eyes and says his spell again with more conviction. Cur Memini. he feels himself shooting into the air before he opens his eyes. he can see the forest stretch out for miles around him. trees covered in snow in every direction. if the old house is behind him, he should fly straight ahead, towards the forests on the mountains. tentatively, he leans forward and focuses his magic on keeping himself afloat. 

it doesn’t take much to exhaust what little magic he has, but he’s put more distance between himself and the old house and the people above now. he should be safe to rest, truly rest. but first he should find something to eat. is there anything to eat out here? something in his head tells him to look a little closer to the ground. to his left. there’s a bush full of berries. he’s never had anything but stale bread, and doesn’t know what to expect as he crushes one with his teeth. 

the sensation overtakes him for a brief moment. the berry is sweet, yet tart, and delicious. it’s the best thing he’s ever eaten and he thanks the little voice in his head for the information as he picks several more berries from the bush. the juice runs down his chin and makes him sticky, but it feels good. he feels truly alive for the first time. 

once he’s finished picking the bush clean of its fruits, he needs to find a place to rest, to stay warm. he’s shivering in the intense cold of the north, but it’s nothing he isn’t used to. the room was never very warm after all. he listens to the little voices calling out to him, guiding him towards a small cave, instructing him on how to make a small fire to warm himself up. a small rabbit brushes against his leg and he swears one of the voices is coming from it. and with the fire going, he thanks the rabbit before it hops away back into the snow. he would be roasting that same rabbit over the fire a few months later. 

the boy can’t stay in the cave forever though. as days turn to weeks turn to months, he worries that the people above are getting closer to him. they’ll put him back in that cold, dark, damp room again. he needs to keep moving. he has been practicing his magic, casting stronger spells, and he needs to be ready to fly. it's been long enough. cur memini he says holding his hand out. a rough stick with twigs tied to the end flies into his hand. it’s a poor excuse for what he understands is a broom, but it will work. he climbs onto it and focuses. cur memini cur memini cur memini. he lifts off the ground and watches as the branches of the trees get shorter and eventually he passes above the treetops. 

he takes a moment to gather his bearings. he no longer remembers the direction the house was in, but going up is his best bet of staying away from the people above. he laughs, realizing that he is the one above them now. after a moment, he flies into the mountains. the small voices change into bigger, unfamiliar ones as he gets further into the mountain range. they tell him to hide, to stay away. he doesn’t listen. they cannot be more dangerous than the humans he is running from. 

the boy lands, still exhausted from using so much magic, but he was able to travel further this time. that has to count for something, surely. he gathers some sticks and looks for another cave to make his home in. the caves remind him too much of the room he left, so he chooses to stay close to the entrance, close to the light that reminds him he is free. the fire keeps the animals away, but the voices are curious about the new presence in their woods. they make him curious too. he should stay in the cave tonight though and regain his energy. maybe he can get some small game to fill his stomach before settling in for the night. he listens for a rabbit’s voice, or maybe a squirrel, anything that would be small enough to kill with his hands. 

at last, a small fox’s voice is heard nearby. he wonders if fox will taste different from the other game he’s eaten thus far. he lifts a hand-sized rock and slinks out of the cave towards the voice. it takes a few minutes to find the source, but the fox is curled under a tree, shivering, hungry, just like him. the boy hesitates before bludgeoning it and slinging the corpse over his shoulders. there are more foxes. he is much more important. 

the fox is only the first animal he hunts in those mountainous woods. he spends several years in that forest and eventually humans settle up there as well. the boy, or rather, the man now, has made a name for himself amongst the human populations of the north. he is no longer afraid of humans capturing him and locking him up. they are still terrified of him, but now he is in control of that terror. the hunters that left his territory alive whispered tales of the great wizard owen who inhabited the mountains and terrorized anyone who had the bad luck of running into him. 

all of this is perfectly fine with owen. eventually his reputation will grow beyond himself, encapsulating atrocities that were impossible for even someone as strong as oz to commit, but that would be a problem for future owen. for now, he is still young and living in his cave on the outskirts of a small village and scaring hunters who stray too far from their boundaries. the wolves don’t like these visitors either and gladly listen to owen’s lamentations. it keeps his hands clean of the bloodshed if he isn’t casting the spell himself. the wolves don’t care for owen either, but they respect him. and that is enough for owen. 

the first of the unwanted visitors was a young man, someone who wanted to provide for his family. he pleaded with owen and the wolves to let him go and he wouldn’t cause any problems. those pleas fell on deaf ears though as owen looked the man in the eyes. won’t your family be disappointed, he asked almost innocently, you don’t have anything to show for your efforts. the man stammered a response, they’d rather i come back alive with nothing than die trying to find food. is that so, owen reached out for the man’s chin, the distance between their faces was almost nothing. y-yes, sir, please just let me go and i won’t bother you anymore. owen grinned. oh i’m sure you won’t be causing us any trouble again. the wolves stalked out of the woods, drooling at the prospect of tearing a piece of that man for themselves. owen snapped his fingers, and they came running forward, only to stop mere inches from the now trembling man. there was a suspicious yellow stain in the snow beneath him. p-p-please sir, anything you ask, it’s yours! then make sure you tell the rest of your little village that this forest belongs to the great wizard owen. the man ran off, leaving behind a hunting rifle and a ratty sack. the rifle would be of use, but the sack became tinder for his fires. 

despite the warning from that first man, hunters continued to enter into owen’s territory. and one after the other, they ran off screaming with their tails between their legs. this should have annoyed owen, that people would ignore all of the warnings and stories that had started popping up about him, but it doesn’t. their fear feeds into his magic power, only making him stronger, and that is all fine with owen. he is no longer a weak child locked in the damp, dark basement, and he never will be again. 

[the-way-astray]

It’s suspicious that you guys haven’t blocked each other Almost like you’re the same person or something. That could be why she hasn’t revealed who her other blog is yet, because she would have a LOT OF EXPLAINING TO DO

i'm a senile old woman that has nothing better to do than pretend to be both a christian white girl and also a brown hindu girl on the internet. i'm debating myself in my own head and keepblr is an illusion . . . sanity feels so far away . . . is this what the ancients of kotlc experience . . .

anyway i make one, just one (1) simple request, and nobody can follow it . . .

naturally i need to tag myself so @myfairkatiecat come explain myself

[idunnowhattowriteheretbh]

Don't mind me randomly appearing in here, anyway-

Say hello to Alt22 "Horns"! :D

(NAUR WHY THE PIC LOOKS WEIRD TUMBLR WHY- also ignore the fact I don't know how to draw paws-)

@blackkatdraws @blackkatdraws2

He's an oc I created some time ago but I finnaly drew him a ref sheet for this thingy so here he is :]

Alr now I'm going to try and use my 3 braincells to talk about em--

Was heavily inspired by deer

Because deer cool but also kinda scary- Horns is able to sound like moose/deer/elk/reindeer which can sound scary on it's own skksksk

(yes I chose multiple cuz I'm indecisive)

Other than being able to make those sounds he also can growl, whine, roar and other noises

Behaves sorta like a Husky aka he's a drama queen and he also screams in Husky style

I don't think there's much to say to this and prob going to draw something to explain his drama queen personality lmao

And also a fun fact: he isn't behaving like a drama queen around most people

Black's child/guard dog

Even though Horns is a dumbass they're surprisingly smart

Believe it or not this fluffy bastard is able to use his brain and is quite intelligent for how dumb he can be /lh

For example: Horns gets stuck in walls because of his antlers way too often skksksk

Can be really fast so don't try to run away from them, they're going to catch you anyway

Long legs ✨️

The fur can harden as a protection if threatened, it then work like an armour

Horns can make his fur harden anytime he wants to but this ability would be used when someone would; attack him, he would get startled or when he wants to look more threatening

Aka turn into a pufferfish /silly

Uses the voice copying power to hunt most of the time, like screams, calls for help, etc..

Even though he probably doesn't look like it he likes to lure intruders with his voice copy power thingy.

Basically if someone gets into the dungeon and Horns is around, he is going to hide and lure the person closer to him. Then when he has the chance he attacks and if unsuccessful he chases them down and he's a fast boi.

Or he just straight up attacks the person if there isn't any hiding spot/the person doesn't get tricked by the calls he makes.

Also for the hunting he closes almost all eyes other than his two main eyes on head, and when he's hunting he's quiet and that happens rarely when you consider that he's screaming most of the time skskksks

Only some can touch him

Likes to follow around Stanley for some reason when he can

Horns definitely tried to eat Stanley before and got scolded by Black lmao

Crystal parts of the body

His tusks, claws and visible ribs are made from Black's crystals

Eyes on the body

The eyes allows Horns to see from all angles and it helps them to hunt down someone if they didn't hear anything and they can hear a lot of sounds so good luck on trying to sneak around em

Aaand that's all I can think of saying about Horns lmao

Now tags speedrun time-