#with a sprinkle of canon

[the-badger-mole]

Clouds, Fog and Mists

The scholars and archeologists that Aang had been working with had come out of their museum basements and dimly lit studies with a wealth of Air Nomad histories and artifacts that had been lost during the war. Aang now had access to recipes he hadn't tasted in years, scrolls that gave historical context to the things he had just begun learning at age 12, and objects he had never seen, but was excited to learn the use of. At 22, he was just now learning that the Air Nomads had a variety of subcultures and customs he'd never encountered, even though he had visited every Air Temple that existed back then.

"Did you know..." became as common to his vocabulary as "hello" and "custard tart". Every day, he approached his wife with some new bit of lore he'd learned.

"Did you know that the Southern Air Nomads had a Festival of Remembrance?" he'd excitedly asked as Katara was hanging the laundry out to try. She was only half listening while she tried to keep Bumi, their nearly three year old son out of the basket of wet sheets, but she gave a polite hum of encouragement.

"For a whole week," Aang continued needing no further prompting, "no one was allowed to play music or speak. They even wore velvet over their feet so their footsteps wouldn't be too loud. Then, at the end of it, there was a huge party! Loud as anything with music and plays and games. I think I remember going one of those ending parties, but I didn't know about the vow of silence before it."

"That's fascinating, sweetie," Katara said, rubbing her heavy belly with a look of discomfort. She was seven months along with their second child, and this one was very active. "Bumi, last warning. Do not touch the clean clothes!"

"Okay, Mommy!" Bumi said before swatting at one of the sheets Katara had hung on the line. She sighed and turned to her husband.

"Can you take him?" she asked. "I'm tired, and I'd like to take a nap after I finish this."

"Oh," Aang said reluctantly. "I was going to have an afternoon session with the Acolytes. I'm dying to tell them what I've been learning."

"Aang, please?" Katara sagged tiredly, taking Bumi's hand and pulling him away from all her hard work.

"Alright," Aang sighed. "I'll watch him for a bit. Come on, Bumi! Let's go practice some air katas! I want you to be ready when your airbending kicks in!"

-:-:-:-:-:-

All Air Nomads were airbenders. That's what Aang had always been taught. He had to account for late bloomers, of course, but at age four, going on five, if Bumi was going to be an airbender, there would've been signs by now. Kya was a lost cause. She had started waterbending just before her second birthday, and despite the fact that her father was the Avatar, there was no chance that she would inherit the ability to control more than one element.

"Well, maybe it's not true that all Air Nomads were benders," Katara said with a shrug. "After all, not every Water Tribesman is a waterbender, and not everyone in the Earth Kingdom is an earthbender."

"It's different," Aang insisted. "The monks told me that all Air Nomads were benders because we have a unique connection with our spirituality." Katara didn't quite manage to hide her annoyance from him.

"Then explain our kids," she said. "Unless you're the first Air Nomad in history to have children with a non-Air Nomad, someone somewhere got something wrong." Aang went quiet after that. He had no response.

"Just because the Air Nomads may have had children with people from other nations doesn't mean that their children were Air Nomads," an acolyte named Qiao said. She was one of the most apt and studious of Aang's Air Acolytes, and they had spent many hours together pouring over the newly discovered texts. Sometimes, Aang thought that she had a better grasp of Air Nomad culture than even he did.

"I suppose....I suppose that's true," Aang said thoughtfully, taking a sip of his tea.

"The Air Nomads were mostly not monogamous," Qiao pointed out. "I'm sure there were a lot of Nomads who had understandings with their lovers from other nations. Especially among the Air Acolytes of the day."

Aang pondered that for the rest of the day. Then the next. Then the rest of the week before he finally approached Katara. He found her by the fountain with Kya and Bumi. Kya was busy making imperfect little shapes with the water while Katara was teaching Bumi how to put his hair into a warrior's wolf tail.

"You look just like your uncle Sokka," she laughed, pressing a kiss on her son's cheek. "I bet you'll be a great warrior just like him, too." That twisted Aang's gut uncomfortably. He cleared his throat to get Katara's attention.

"Hey, sweetie," he said.

"Hey," Katara smiled at him. "We're just about to have story time. Do you want to stick around for How Umiak Rowed Her Boat to the Stars?"

"Oh, um..."Aang shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Sure. I was just...thinking of something."

"Yeah?" Katara raised her brow at him. "What?"

"I was just thinking of how all the Air Nomads were benders." Katara didn't bother trying to hide her disgusted snort or the rolling of her eyes.

"Okay, and?" she huffed. "Did you draw any new conclusions?"

"I can't have been the only Air Nomad to have children with someone from a different culture," he said. Katara stared at him blankly for a long moment.

"I told you that," she responded finally. "It's just now sinking in?'

"No, I understood you," Aang told her. He kicked at the ground. There was a loose pebble under his toe and he focused on rolling it back and forth. "It's just...well, the Air Nomads, they weren't strictly monogamous."

"Monogamous," Katara scoffed. "That's a big word for you." Aang bristled a bit at that, but he took a breath and let it go.

"I was just reading," Aang said with a shrug. "It occurred to me that maybe because the Air Nomads weren't monogamous, they just didn't bring their non-bending kids into the Air Nomad society." Katara looked up at Aang with her eyes wide.

"That's awful!" she said. "So because their kids didn't bend the right elements, they had to be cut off from one of their parents?"

"No, I'm sure it wasn't as bad as all that-" Aang started to protest.

"What exactly are you saying, Aang?" There was a dangerous edge to Katara's voice. A warning.

"Nothing, nothing!" he scrambled back, tripping over his tongue, trying to call back his words, and cursing himself for trying to bring up the subject without a plan. Katara eyed him coldly. She was angry and trying not to show it.

"It's time for lunch," she told her children. "Let's go inside and fix something to eat."

"But Mommy," Bumi protested. "I want to hear about Umiak!" Katara turned to him with a tight smile.

"That's okay, sweetie," she said. "I'll tell you while you help me fix lunch." With one last scowl at Aang, she took Bumi's hand and swung Kya up onto her hip and went inside.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Aang felt vindicated when it was discovered that he and Qiao were right. The Air Nomads would often leave non-airbending children with their non-Nomad parents. Sometimes the Air Nomad parent would stay with their non-Nomad partners and build a life with them and their children (something he made a note to tell Katara about). Then it was discovered that they were only partially right.

Some of the Air Nomads stayed and raised mixed heritage families. Some left their non-airbending children behind with their non-Nomad partners. That was expected. Reasonable, even. What Aang was not expecting, however, were the accounts of non-airbending children being given away. Some were adopted, and those adoptions were traceable through documents and letters. Others were sold. Those transactions were traceable, too. By most accounts, those children went into indentured servitude and many of them learned trades and were able to start businesses once their indenture was up. Aang tried to focus on the positives. Katara, however, was horrified.

"What right did they have to sell those children into...into slavery?" she demanded hotly while they were getting ready for bed.

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," Aang insisted. "After all, the Air Nomads wouldn't have put children into situations where they could've been hurt."

"Yes," Katara sneered. "I'm sure their new owners were very gentle with their exploitation."

"That isn't fair!" Aang protested. "Do you know how difficult it would've been for those kids to live among the Nomads?"

"Probably about as easy as it's been for our kids." Katara glared at Aang meaningly. He felt his cheeks heat as he looked away, pretending not to understand.

Bumi was going on eight now, and Kya was five. They were both old enough to ask questions about why it was so difficult for them to move around their own home. Katara and the Acolytes had an easier time being adults and able to maneuver obstacles that short legs and small hands couldn't without help, but it was still a regular challenge to get around the Air Temple for them. Aang was in the process of building a complex near Republic City where non-airbending Acolytes could live and learn with more ease, but it wouldn't be ready for anyone to move into for another year or so. It would be safer for children with no airbending ability, too. Aang glanced over at Katara from the corner of his eye, at the soft swell of her stomach, already showing signs of pregnancy at her second month.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Tenzin was the last of Aang's children with Katara, and the only airbender. When he was almost one, he airbent for the first time, and Aang couldn't stop celebrating for an entire week. When Tenzin was two, the first of the burial mounds were discovered.

Archaeologists working at the mostly restored Northern Air Temple found it at the base of the mountain. There were several layers to the grave, suggesting generations' worth of use. Most of the bones were small. Infant and toddler sized. The largest bones were about the size of an average eight year old. The bones were all jumbled together, as if they had been tossed in a heap. Some of them wore the clothes they were buried in, but most of the bones were too broken to hang on to any frabric. There were also no signs of any shrouds or anything indicating that they had been given any of the customary funeral rites of the Air Nomads. The fact that they were found at the base of the mountain in itself was unusual. All the different groups of Air Nomads had their own unique funeral customs, but one thing that remained the same was that they were laid to rest as close to the sky as possible.

When the first reports of how the children came to be at the base of the mountain came out, Aang was certain it was the rankest propaganda. None of the Air Nomads, no matter how stringent they were about non-airbenders living among them, would ever harm a child. For a while, he seemed to be right, as all the proof was from secondary and tertiary sources.

"Lies the Fire Nation used to justify genocide," Aang said confidently.

"But how did the children get there?" Katara asked. Aang had no answer for her. Yet. There must have been a good one, though. Maybe a plague had run through the Air Temple, forcing them to bury the bodies at the bottom of the mountain to prevent contamination, or something equally tragic. Aang began talking to the archaeologists about giving the bones a proper burial as soon as they could be sorted. The count at that time was 700 bodies in the pile and there were still so many more to go.

A few months after that, the oldest of the Air Nomad accounts were uncovered. It went back a good 300 years, and it spoke about a surplus of infants born without the gift of airbending. There were too many to be disposed of the normal ways, and many of the non-bending parents were unwilling or unable to raise the children themselves. The anonymous monk wrote of a meeting to discuss the crisis. They wouldn't be able to care for so many that couldn't get around the temple, or travel with the Nomads. There was a food shortage. A water shortage. An everything shortage. So the head monk suggested giving the children to the air. That had been the first time the practice had been recorded, near as anyone could tell. But some of the bones were older than that.

That's what they called it. It sounded lovely. Poetic even. In practice, though, the babies were carried to the edge of the temple grounds and held in the air. A short prayer was said for the souls of the children, and then they just...let go. They were so high up, they probably couldn't hear the children hit the ground.

The public began to call them the Fog Children. They were babies born to Air Nomad parents, but without airbending abilities themselves. People clung to the term and it soon spread all over the world in hushed whispers. Aang hated it. Katara hated it. It was the only thing they could agree on by that time.

"It isn't fair!" Aang bemoaned. "It's like people are using it to justify the Fire Nation killing all the Air Nomads."

"If it bothers you so much," Katara said after she'd put the kids to bed, "then speak up! Condemn what they did."

"I do!" Aang insisted. He had protested, loudly that all of the Air Nomads shouldn't be judged by what one fringe sect did.

"Not just them," Katara said. "All of it. It's just like with the Fire Nation. Remember what Zuko said? You can't expect to move forward without acknowledging the past. All of it was wrong. The Air Nomads treated their non-bending children as if they had no value. Condemn the adoptions and abandonings and the selling of the children!"

"How is it my responsibility to make up for all of that?" Aang demanded.

"You're the only one left," Katara reminded him, trying to be gentle. "I'm not saying you have to call the Air Nomads monsters. They did something wrong. They were human. You can acknowledge that and commit to being better than that."

"How?"

"Start with your children."

It had been a frequent argument between Katara and Aang how Aang treated their children. Bumi was 13 now, well on his way to becoming a man. Kya was 11 and Tenzin was five. Often, Katara would quiz Aang on his children- what Kya's favorite color was, or the name of Bumi's best friend. Aang could admit that he was correct about Tenzin more often than the others, but it was only because Aang had so much he had to teach his youngest. Katara should've understood that. After all, there were things she did with Kya that she couldn't do with Bumi or Tenzin.

"It's not the same," Katara told him. Aang could never remember why, though.

For the next year or so, Aang spent much of his time doing damage control. He did his best to separate the practices at the Northern Air Temple and the particular sect of Air Nomad culture that grew around it from the rest of the Air Nomads. Every criticism of the culture was met sharply by Aang's rebuttals and justifications. Penning article after article espousing the virtues of the Air Nomads at large became his full time job, and obsession. It took him two weeks to notice that Katara had left with all three of his children, and another month for him to find the letter Katara had left in his bedside table telling him she was seeking a divorce.

He got Tenzin three months of the year. It was all he could manage, being completely unused to parenting alone. Aang taught his son what he could of airbending and the Nomad philosophy he could in that time, and did his best to ignore the people whispering fog children in the same breath as his oldest children.

[herebecritters]

Can you draw flippy x flaky please

You’re lucky I love them ❤️

[corneredcopia]

xmas eve setup 🫶

[jorrated]

idk why sonic fans care so much about canon timelines. classic sonic is past sonic or an alternate version sonic? who gives a shit sonic canon is the definition of fuck it we ball have fun with your blue rat

[ghost-proofbaby]

“I’m out of wine and flowers, so I hope an introduction will suffice,” his blood-red eyes meet hers, and something in her gut twists. As if she already knows. As if she’s just realized that she’s missed the obvious. “My name is Astarion. I was in Balder’s Gate when-” Astarion. Save Astarion. Astarion.  All the breath leaves her lungs as she interrupts, “You’re Astarion?”

summary: how far would you go to save the one you love? what about a stranger?

pairings: astarion ancunin x sorcerer!oc (aruna)

warnings: canon angst, canon trauma, canon violence, memory loss, sort of enemies to lovers?, sort of soulmates au?, overuse of pet names, eventual smut. 18+

cross-posted on ao3

spotify playlist

P R O L O G U E

S T R A N G E R S

C H A R C O A L A N D D A G G E R S

W I L D M A G I C

S H A R P A X E , S H A R P E R H A N D S

H E R S H A D O W

T H E K I N D E S T F O O L

I N T O T H E C H A S M

F A I L E D C O N N E C T I O N S

F R I E N D L Y E N C O U N T E R S

C I N N A M O N G I R L

A D V O C A T U S D I A B O L I

S O L D I E R D O W N

S T A Y W I T H M E

[sera8273]

“Say something!” Eurylochus yelled out.

“Say something?” Odysseus deadly whispered, his voice cold and devoid of any emotions. Eurylochus flinched harshly at the change. “Say something?” He spoke once more, more slower, more louder. His anger rising out with every breath he took.

Without warning, Odysseus ran over to Eurylochus, who fell on his bottom out of shock, grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and screamed out all his pent up anger.

“What in the gods name do you want me to say!? Your pissed with me for willingly sacrificing six of my men so we- no, so that I could get home quicker while you killed 557 of my men all because you wanted to open the Windbag that I specifically said not to open and had to stay up for nine days STRAIGHT!?” He all but spat in his second In command face.

Eurylochus couldn’t find his voice. He couldn’t even move from the absolute pure fear he felt. But Perimedes, who was watching the whole thing with the rest of the crew, suddenly found his.

“We wouldn’t even be in this mess if you didn’t give that cyclops your name!” He screamed “It would’ve been better if you had just killed it!”

Odysseus snapped his neck towards Perimedes who flinched, after a while he dropped Eurylochus on the floor leaving him gasping and clutching his chest while looking at Ody with fear as he walked toward the man moving backwards from him.

And perimedes, and the whole crew, could only think one thing in common.

They’re gonna die

They’re gonna die

They’re gonna fucking dies from their captain

They’re gonna fucking die because of their dumbass move-

“So you’re telling me that Killing the Cyclops, Polyphemus, who is Posiden, the god of the literal water, would’ve been the right choice?” Their captain coldly asks. Devoid of any emotions.

“I…yes?” Perimedes asked meekly.

Ody inhaled and exhaled very slowly before yelling in the poor man’s ear: “The only fucking reason he’s on my ass is simply because I blinded him and stole his sons sheep! That’s it! He’s targeting me because I was the reason that his son is blind! What in gods name would you think would happen if I killed him!?”

Perimedes back away and falls backwards. Quietly adding: “N-nothing-“

“Absolutely fucking nothing! Maybe he would’ve prolonged my torture by torturing you guys, sure. But it would’ve been the same damit!”

“Y-you could’ve not told the cyclops your name-“

“Ah yes! Because when Posiden gathers the news that someone drugged, stole and blinded his son and calls himself nobody from Hermes he obviously wouldn’t immediately go to the 12 ships, which I remind you, are the only fucking ships in the whole damn ocean and who suddenly have a suspicious amount of sheep on board!” Ody was practically foaming at the mouth when he was done.

No one moved. No one dared to try and talk to him in this raged manic state.

After a while (minutes? Seconds? Days?) Ody- their captain finally calmed down enough for the light in his eyes to return, and with a smile on his face he says: “What are you all waiting for?” Suddenly, it’s all gone. “Row fast.”

“Yes sir!” “Yes Captain!” “Got it!” “Yup!” “Sir Yes Sir!” “I I Captain!”

[star-synth]

Some mockups of how Cyn/The solver looks! Blurring the lines between "human" and something else. Cyn's been stitched/fused together with Tessa's skin. In my human au, alongside the fleshy horrors the solver can do, it also has some bio-mechanical horrors as well. The tendons/muscle in Cyn's neck have been replaced with metal and silicone, and her extra set of hands are more robotic. As another symbolism of Cyn and Tessa getting fused together, I gave her hair a mix of silver and the blackish brown. Human Au Cyn isn't wearing a skinsuit, but is rather an amalgamation of parts and flesh :)

[jelzorz]

202.

Corvus considers himself to be a pretty good tracker. He's just always been good at noticing the little things: broken twigs and disturbed soil and changes in the calls of native birds and such; things that take practise to see and an amount of training to hear. It's not that surprising, honestly, that he notices the change in Soren's behaviour before Soren ever does himself.

It's been how long now? Eight? Almost nine years? Terry's been with them for seven of those, and they've been out and about and adventuring the whole time so of course he notices the way Soren's eyes have started to wander whenever they're in Katolis.

It's subtle at first: a little smile here, a lingering touch there, the slightest pink in his cheeks whenever he and Opeli find themselves sitting next to each other in a meeting or at a meal. Corvus says nothing about it because it's not his place to say, and Soren is happy, which matters more than the little sting of jealousy that creeps unwantedly into his chest. He'd caught himself once hoping she'd just turn him down and had hated himself a little for it: Opeli is his friend too, and cleric or not, she deserves happiness just the same. If whatever is happening between them brings them joy, then Corvus would be remiss in wishing for anything else.

It's better now. He's grown used to it, and there's always something about the castle and its surrounds that Terry wants to know, so Corvus obliges him, and it's nice to hang around and just talk, no mission, no recon, no silly jokes.

Today is the same. The Yule season has settled over the city comfortably, and the festival the common folk throw every year is in full swing. The air is cold but it smells like cinnamon and spun sugar, the trees are lit with twinkling balls of Sunfire magic, the snow is soft and piles like pillows on every available surface, and Soren is wheedling Opeli (as always) to join them for the evening festivities.

Corvus hides his smile because they all know the answer is yes. Opeli has never had any resolve when it comes to Soren, and the facade of being stern and unyielding stopped fooling the three of them years ago, but it's Terry who intervenes.

"Actually, Corvus and I were thinking about going to the river," he says. "I was told I'd get to learn how to skate this year."

Opeli raises an eyebrow at Soren. "Then I can't very well tag along, can I?"

Soren flounders, very poorly disguising his disappointment. "What—I mean—Did I say that?"

"Oh, you didn't," says Terry. "Corvus did. Remember?"

"Um." Corvus' cheeks warm, because yes, he did, weeks ago, and he's somewhat ashamed that he'd forgotten. "Yes. Of course."

"Problem solved then," says Terry, clapping his hands. "You two enjoy the festival. We'll see you when you get back."

Opeli flushes a little. Soren flushes a lot.

"Oh," says Opeli. "I was under the assumption I'd be joining all of you."

"We're here for the month," says Terry, waving her off. "We can hang out anytime. Go have fun."

Soren flushes more. "You mean, like. Alone? At a festival?"

"Yeah," says Terry, giving him a look. Corvus has to fight back a laugh. "Is that a problem?"

"Of course not," says Opeli primly, her recovery always graceful. "I suppose I'll go and get my cloak." She eyes Terry suspiciously as she rises, but she touches Soren's arm before she goes. Soren mouths a thank you at Terry when she's not looking and offers them both a grin and a thumbs up.

He follows her to the stairwell leaving Corvus and Terry alone at the table, and they glance at each other and burst into laughter at once. The air is warm. Corvus' cheeks are sore from smiling all night. Terry leans back in his chair, his elbow brushing lightly against Corvus' arm.

"You'd think they were teenagers," snorts Terry.

"They're doing their best," says Corvus. "And y'know, strictly speaking, it's a little more complicated than how it looks, Opeli being a cleric and all but. Yes. They're ridiculous."

"You'll still teach me to skate though, right?"

"Yes, of course," chuckles Corvus heartily. "We can go now if you like."

"I would like that," says Terry, getting up. He grins at Corvus, and for a moment the world stills, and Corvus feels his heart do something funny, something unexpected, and when Terry touches his arm, it does it again.

Oh, he thinks. That's new. Or has it been something that's been happening for a while?

Corvus finds he doesn't know.

Perhaps there are little things he doesn't notice. Perhaps that's not so bad.

[drowxiv]

Then Vs. Now

2019 - The first screenshot Viedyn was created to ensure I had a connection to FFXIV that would make me want to play. He was the older brother of another OC, Durafein, who was a Drow from a TTRPG.

Viedyn was originally a ranger type character who used a bow/arrow as well as a sword. In the "lore" I made for him he held a choke point during the fall of his noble house but he was eventually slain. FFXIV was meant to be some "other life, after life, reincarnation, whatever" but that incident was always going to be his past and his face was scarred to reflect that.

2021 - Timeline split I switched to DNC and moved to a "friends only" FC that wanted to interact with Viedyn's character. So he sort of got his own "What If?" episode where he escaped the fall of his house. I tried to force "dancer" to fit his lore. It was a huge stretch and a big part of me regrets it. However it works for AU purposes, my FC needed a "softer" version of him.

2024 - What then should have been He's been reverted to his "canon/living" state. To better reflect his protective role within his house he wears heavy black armor and fights with a sword and shield. He wears a silver circlet to mark his position as the right hand of the Matron as well as (essentially) Captain of the house guard/troops.

The scars on his face have been removed, his hair has been cut short for combat, and his eyes have been changed to an "icy" blue to reflect the descriptions I've written of him as well as his canon personality. Thank you @vmbral for tagging me!

Tagging @cosmicharm , @il-mhegs , @ornerykarakul , @displaykitkats , @thedarknesssings , @houserosaire and anyone else who wants to create a "Then vs. Now"! You have my official permission! Be as detailed or not detailed as you like! (some just simply post two pics with dates!)

[gaeasun]

Dropping new theory for Rex's hair: As a child, Rex was born blond, but was given gene therapy by the Kaminoans to change it to the typical color. As an adult he now bleaches it back as a "screw you" to the Kaminoans

[imtrashraccoon]

Hmm... golden boys 💪

So, with Dream Sans, perhaps a reader who has snuck in a small puppy and is currently giving it a bath-

The only reason how Dream found the two is the strangely Reader-shaped footprints of mud tracked along the floor and into the bathroom... and the squeaky barking.

(For added effect, Reader is a muddy MESS from wrestling the puppy to stay in the bath 🤭)

I thought because you originally sent a similar ask for Lord Nightmare, I would do this in a similar style? So, enjoy a special Don't Imagine, just for you my friend...

Don't Imagine finding a small lost puppy behind the barn covered in mud. How it's big sad eyes instantly melt your heart and how you can't possibly leave it there. How you look around to see if anyone is watching but thankfully find no one.

Don't Imagine scooping the poor thing up into your arms when you realize it really is by itself. How you don't even care that now you're all muddy too. How it whimpers and whines, trying to break free from your grasp. How you wonder if it's had bad experiences with people to be this afraid of you.

Don't Imagine tucking the pup into your coat and slipping back to the cottage. How you open the door a crack and listen intently before stepping inside, just in case your master returned early. How you heave a sigh of relief when it seems that he's still out.

Don't Imagine heading straight for the bathroom. How you draw a warm bath and search the cabinets for a soap that would be safe for the puppy's fur. How you are forced to give up when its squirming proves to be too much to handle. How you nearly have to wrestle it into the tub.

Don't Imagine the poor pup absolutely wailing as you attempt to scrub the mud out of it's fur. How it struggles to get away but you manage to pull it back into the tub every time it gets remotely close to escaping. How you realize this would actually be sort of funny if you weren't in a bit of a rush to finish.

Don't Imagine nearly jumping out of your skin at the sound of a soft knock on the door that you had carelessly left ajar. How you can feel the affects of his presence and how you know that you've been caught. How your mind scrambles to think of any reasonable excuse but comes up short. How you know he would see through any lie you could make anyways.

Don't Imagine how Dream waits for you to turn around. How your heart sinks when he meets your gaze with an unreadable look. How you quickly look away and suddenly realize how big of a mess you've made. How you apologize profusely and promise to clean up the muddy footprints and the bathroom. How you wish he'd say something, anything, and not just stare at you like that.

Don't Imagine how he sighs and reassures you that he's not upset. How you tentatively look up, not fully believing him. How his expression takes on a pained look for a moment before he quickly hides it behind his usual smile. How he reiterates that you've done nothing wrong and how he actually praises you for helping the puppy.

Don't Imagine how he chuckles and kneels next to you. Definitely don't imagine how he carefully wipes some mud from your cheek. How he quietly compliments your kindness. How his touch lingers a moment longer than it probably should.

Don't Imagine how all the uncertainty seems to disappear. How your vision narrows until all you can focus on is his face. How you wonder why you were ever worried about him finding out in the first place. How he comments that the sanctuary could use a good guard dog and suggests that he doesn't mind if you want to keep the puppy. How quick you are to thank him, promising to take good care of it.

[galactaknightyaoi]

Silly rabbit??

Happy spooky month! Here's my obligatory Halloween profile picture. I'm a few days late, as usual. But I'll have the actual Halloween drawing(s) done in time... I hope.

Extra doodles and sketches of an alternative costume under the cut.

Originally I wanted to draw Galacta Knight as a witch, with little eensy Meta here as his familiar. However I wasn't able to work out a witch design I was happy with, and that wasn't agonizing to draw with his horns. Still a fun little concept!! Maybe for a future Halloween...

I still wanted to do something magic related, and from that I got magician. It doesn't match the spooky vibe, but I think it's Halloween-ey enough!! It's the shitty costume bought the day before the Halloween party, how does it get more Halloween than that? And it still allowed me to have Meta as a stupid little creature, so really, I think I still won.

As a bonus, concept doodles of the magician ft. the inexplicably skimpily dressed assistant!

[captain-sunshine-11]

kind of a crack headcanon BUT

the first song after Baltimore happened that andrew listened to was:

because it came up on the radio.

andrew refuses to listen to it from then on because the lyrics fit too closely to an event that scarred neil & him. usually he doesnt bother with trivial things like that but after aaron tries to play it, andrew feels lingering anxiety and skips it.

aaron glares at him and plays something else but aaron knows he wouldn't have done that unless it was for a reason, so he leaves it alone.

( @minyard-05 bc we were just talking about music )

[total-drama-brainrot]

Total Drama Psycho Noah AU, before Alejandro knew the truth, Noah would sometimes cuddle to the charmer while sleeping... Alejandro was amused and fond by this... But when Alejandro learns about Noah's true crazy colors and the sleeping Noah cuddles into Alejandro again, Alejandro is trying NOT to freak out! 😴

Wait no you're so right. Noah's sleep cuddling habit would've been seen as innocuous throughout the whole series, especially in World Tour when their sleeping arrangements were so cramped. Of course he'd always end up practically gluing himself to the nearest person in his sleep- who would usually ended up being Owen or sometimes Alejandro, as they were the two people Noah tolerated enough to spend most of his time with.

But as soon as everyone on the jet becomes aware that he's not nearly as harmless as he's portrayed himself to be? When he intentionally shows himself to be a threat to their safety/wellbeings?

Well, suddenly his "cute little quirk" has turned into a very volatile situation.

-

What is Alejandro supposed to do when he wakes up in the Economy cabin, not even twenty four hours after the London challenge, and finds everyone's fearful eyes trained on him. How is he supposed to react when he feels the familiar weight of the dangerous, downright vicious person they'd all watched snap someone's arms like uncooked spaghetti, draped over him like a blanket?

Especially when they all know that a Noah who's woken up before he's ready is cranky. And that was the Noah from before, who was apparently keeping a tight leash on his wilder instincts- now that he's given up on holding himself back, who knows how he'd respond to being woken up?

Oh wait. They all know how he'd respond- and it involves a lot of bloodshed.

He's trapped; waking up Noah is a guaranteed death sentence, and any movement could be enough to stir the other from his precarious slumber.

And the others know it too. Tyler and Duncan watch him like a hawk, their faces palid with pity and terror, though they thankfully remain just as muted as Alejandro himself. It's unnerving, being held under the terror-shrunk gazes of the two, but not nearly as unnerving as the soft steady breathing of the deranged bookworm sleeping on top of him.

For a moment, there's a tentative silence that hovers between the three of them like a sheet of ice over a frozen lake.

So of course, Owen's boisterous entrance to the cabin shatters it.

"Hey guys, Chef's serving breakfast in the-! Oh, did I interrupt something?"

Noah stirs from his sleep, and Alejandro's breath becomes an inmate in the prison of his lungs. He'd doomed.

"Wuzza'? Is it ch'llenge time?" The bookworm slurs, one hand wiping at his sleep-crusted eyes as the other finds purchase against Alejandro's shoulder. Noah pulls himself into a sitting position, his body subconsciously curling itself towards the nearest heat source- which just so happens to be Alejandro's terror stilled form- and the Spaniard in question internally prays to whatever God is listening that he'll somehow evade the psycho's inevitable ire when he realises that Alejandro is, in fact, not a pillow.

After a trepid second of inaction, Noah hums inquisitively against the warm mass beneath him, and blinks tired eyes up towards Alejandro's ashen face. A moment of incomprehension passes. Then another. And then realisation flickers over the bookworm's features like a dying ember.

Alejandro is so fucked.

Noah's face solidifies into something blank and unreadable- the complete lack of discernible emotion in is expression is almost eldritch in its uncanniness- and the latino doesn't know if its more or less unnerving than the unhinged, crooked smile he's graced the cast with yesterday. But then, unexpectedly, Noah wordlessly slides himself off of Alejandro's lap.

No broken arms. No stab wounds. Not even a threat against his person.

...What?

"Uh. Sorry for sleeping on you, I guess." The cynic says off-handedly, in his customary sardonic drawl, before he steps over to Owen and calmly asks what the blonde oaf was so excited about.

What?!

"It... is no problem, mi amigo." Alejandro chokes out, displacing the stationary air in his lungs.

Where is the vicious psychopath from last night? Why is Noah acting so... normal? Was his display of instability a fever dream or something?

No, both Tyler and Duncan shoot Alejandro matching looks of bewilderment from their seat on the adjacent bench. What happened last night was real, regardless of Noah's current docility.

Owen and Noah's conversation filters off into nothing, and the Archvillain spares a glance towards the pair. Only to find the both of them staring back at him, grinning; Owen's face scrunching up into his usual friendly smile, and Noah's smug smirk rapidly morphing into that same too-wide snarl he'd adorned on the bus- are those fucking fangs?!

"You make a pretty good pillow, Al."

[beannary]

little doodle of Mikey looking at some normal box turtles :)

[stimboard-central]

"Ain't life SWEET?!"

A Sweet Tooth from Moshi Monsters stimboard for myself!

🍬 x 🍭 x 🍬

💗 x 🤡 x 💗

🍬 x 🍭 x 🍬