#Python Beauty and the Beast

[weyounthevorta]

Enemies & Lovers

You will have a wild and decadently hedonistic love affair with one of these men. The others, spurned and spiteful, are now out to exact vengeance on you.

[holofizz]

fuck it, posting the lineart for these ones too

PYTHON

He was such a little shit in that episode it was great. Also as a bonus, character gets throttled... to death! :D

I am so sorry that I have drawn a one off character from beauty and the beast when it could have been Dino bob. Consider this the warm up for a Dino bob sketch somewhere down the line.

I want to render these ones as well.

[milton-dammers]

Look at him.

[pretend-i-don-t-exist]

hm more heavenly demon!sy thoughts,,, i am invested

the system had an error bc sj's body and soul are still very much together bc he hasn't even experienced a single qi deviation yet, so it tries to find a good substitute to throw sy's soul in

when it can't find any, it decides to make a body that sy is most familiar with (it should be a human, but the system was impressed by sy's very passionate rants about lbh's heavenly demon abilities) so boom. heavenly demon sy

he wakes up in the endless abyss. the system has to hibernate bc the body has taken too much of its power so: here is sy, with an almost invincible body, alone in the endless abyss. oh, and he doesn't know about his heritage. all he knows is that he's in the abyss of pidw

ofc sy immediately geeks out over the demonic beasts and all the plants!!! look he could never visualize what a wyrm-mule looks like or how a porcupine-quail could possibly work, and now he gets to see them! irl!!

well not irl exactly, but if this isn't a very weird dream and he's really transmigrated into some background npc, then it's all well and good. his knowledge of the endless abyss should be enough to keep him safe

he does get very weird urges tho like wdym he's suddenly not squeamish with blood?? why is tearing off his arm now a good strategy to get out of the jaw of a black moon python rhinoceros??? sure his body weirdly could regenerate (tested and proven when he keeps tripping over roots that just keep popping up in his way somehow) but he should be a bit more against that, right?

he also gets the urge to bare his teeth when aggressive beasts crowd around him. his teeth are suspiciously pointy when he feels them, and somehow, the beasts are... intimidated? just like that? when he snarls at them. things also bend to his will for some reason? he was irritated with a swamp (he does not want to wade through that), and then the next time he looks back at it, it's gone???

the demons he came across are very polite, too. completely unlike his expectations. sy thinks he's lucky to meet civilized demons with human-like mannerisms, and does not notice that they're batshit terrified of this one heavenly demon conspiciously leaking out so much demonic qi that it's a miracle he hasn't passed out (which is even more scary bc that is a heck ton of qi)

then because sy is sy, he wifebeams the terrified demons. he talks so animatedly with them, asking questions about their customs without judgment! his smile is so pretty and charming! even in his dirty clothing and unkempt hair, he still looks like a beauty!

then sy takes a bath when he arrives at the demons' village and takes offer to wash up, notices his reflection, and promptly freaks out

is he tlj??? no, tlj does not look like this in pidw's official art, but demons can shapeshift, right? has he messed up the plot??? what date is it even?? is lbh even born yet?? is he lbh's grandfather?????

the demons are rightfully frightened but also worried when sy accidentally destroys a wall of the bath in his haste to get out and get some answers. luckily, this is the demon realm, or his tendency to wear only inner robes will be heavily scrutinized!

sy then plans to get into the human realm (he knows of a few ways) to change the plot! he can't possibly leave lbh to suffer like in pidw if he has the ability to change it...

except lbh is not even born yet.

he does meet tlj, and woooo the demon is so chill and has an entire library full of the worst novels sy has ever read in his entire life (still better than pidw). tlj seems like a sweetheart, how could he possibly wage a war against the human realm that led to his imprisonment? smth is fishy here!

(behind him, tlj kills an entire horde of demons for daring to plan to capture sy. sy is now his little brother. sy does not have the choice of refusing)

and so they travel to the human realm together. tlj immediately fucks off to the nearest bookstore, and sy would have loved to follow him except he has Seen the Plot. then he's suddenly trying to pass off as a wandering cultivator that forgot most of the human customs (very suspicious) bc he's spent most of the time researching plants and animals (ok, his infodumps make that believable) in front of cang qiong cultivators

and then cang qiong offers him to become a teacher in the beast taming peak bc why not (they heard of rumors of a kind wandering cultivator with incredibly accurate portrayals and info about demonic beasts, and also sy is acting Very Sus so they kinda want to keep an eye on him)

(tlj is laughing at him so hard he dislocates a shoulder)

look i just want sy to have the time of his life exploring the endless abyss without the system or the plot breathing down his neck and then i want to throw him into the most stressful situations of his life (coexisting with the disciple versions of the peak lords, and also not getting himself killed for being a heavenly demon, and also tlj's steadily increasing panic on how to court a cold human cultivator who could bodyslam him and throw him over her shoulder and walk off to the sunset)

[strawberryhenisey]

You drew stars around my scars

Ror men asking about your childhood scars (silly) pt. 1

Hades

He has a crazy childhood because he and his brothers had to defeat their father after getting swallowed whole as infants

But he was intrigued about knowing your childhood memories too

In spite of curiosity he wondered why you have a scar on your knee

He was expecting a story that you got attacked by lions or something, but no, he overestimated that scar

"Dear, I'm just curious how'd you get your scar? Did you fight any wild beasts as a child?"

The man asked with a mix of curiosity and concern about the scar

"Oh this on my knee? I was playing with my classmates and they made me sit on the trolli bag, and boom I landed with my knees"

Hades was expecting something more intense than that story but hey at least he knows

Apollo

He has a crazy childhood too, his mother got delayed to give birth to him and Artemis because of Python, and when his mother gave birth to Artemis she literally HELPED their mother to give birth to Apollo which us crazy when she just came out of the womb!

Sunshine boy is very curious as to why you have a scar on the edge of your eyebrow

He was curious if a former lover of yours threw a discus or a frisbee at you Hyacinthus flashback iykyk

Apollo couldn't sleep for nights thinking about your scar

It's bad for his beauty so he has to know the reason of your scar!

"Sunshine, I am very curious as to why you have a scar underneath your brow!"

He asked curiously

"Oh this? Because when I was a kid my sibling accidentally dropped me and my eyebrow got scarred because when I fell I bumped into the edge of a table"

He didn't know if he should laugh or feel bad

Thank you for reading!

[talesfromawannabewriter]

The Beast and the Goblin

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

Once upon a time there was a grand kingdom called Paradisus. It was filled with the most beautiful people in all the land. But the true gem above all the rest was Prince Adam.

He was the first born son of Queen Sera, a single woman who died shortly after their daughter Princess Emily was born.

Both were beautiful beings in their own right but none so than Adam. His skin was kissed by the sun, His head was full of thick brown curls, his body and face were as if it was crafted by the Heavens themselves.

But it was his eyes that were his most prominent feature. They were the most dazzling honey filled orbs that one could simply get lost in.

But what made him truly beautiful was his kind character and love for nature around him. His ability to charm others and make them laugh made those who met him fall in love with him.

Everyone in the kingdom who saw him ,even if it was only once, wanted him. That included the all powerful fairy Lilith.

One day she approached the young prince and asked for his hand in courtship. She told him, two beautiful souls such as themselves deserve each other.

However, much to her shock he rejected her. He stated that while indeed she was gorgeous he simply had no interest in her.

Disheartened and humiliated the fairy had promised that this handsome but foolish prince would pay.

And she knew exactly the right way to do it.

—

It was a quiet night in the castle nothing but the rain outside made much sound. The guards were patrolling the grounds while the servants slept in their quarters. The royal family each in their own chambers.

Sitting at his vanity Prince Adam admired himself as he stroked his chocolate locks with his comb. The Prince had nothing but a black nightgown in, for secretly he always did prefer gowns from pants.

Nightgowns especially were the most comfortable. They also were best for he only wore them in the privacy in his own chambers.

However, that was about to change.

A strike of lightening spooked Adam causing him to drop his brush to the floor. He bent down to retrieve it and when he was staring at his mirror again there he saw Lilith in the background.

Adam screeched turning around in terror: What the Hell are you doing here!? How did you even get in!?

Lilith chuckled darkly: Oh you stupid prince don’t you realize who I am? I can literally go anywhere I want and not a single thing can stop me.

Adam: But not my personal guards, LUTE! VAGGIE HELP!!!

He screamed at the top of his lungs but he didn’t hear a single step towards his doors.

Lilith: They will be no use to you dear, I made it so no one can hear what I’m about to do. I’ll need full concentration on this one.

Adam suddenly felt fear grip him like a python: W, what do you want with m, me?

Lilith: Nothing much, just this.

Adam screamed as he was hit pain unlike any other racking all over his body.

Lilith: Hehe, and so it begins, with this pain I bring another make it so they’ll be smothered. I ask your spirits to curse this man, to bring upon him the curse of beast. Make him brutish, meal him ugly, make him so another would never cast a glance his way, make it so that they scream on sight from his wretched looks, make him so he will never find love of his own kind. Make that a promise.

Adam fells to the floor as he writhed in agony. He shut his eyes, tears still spilling through as he felt his body start to change.

He felt something sharp protrude from his skull, and the hair on his body grew rapidly. Wrapping him like a coat. He felt and heard his gown ripped from his middle as his stomach twisted.

It was all just too much.

Soon though it was finished, the pain subsided, and he could hear his tormenter cackling.

Lilith: Oh, this is even better than I ever thought it would be!

He yelped once more as Lilith picked him up and dragged him back to the mirror.

What he saw made him almost faint on the spot.

There in the mirror was a beast staring right at him. Its fur was black as night, with skin grey like ash, it had sharp, long horns that curled around its skull.

Its fangs glistened as its muzzle was gapped opened, and its long goat-like ears flicked with life.

It was the most horrid creature he had ever laid eyes on. With horror, he watched as Lilith lowered herself to the beast ear and heard her whisper right into his,

Lilith: Who will think you're beautiful now?

[kasarasun]

what if I made a thing or it already was that while Airplane wrote the world, Peerless Cucumber illustrated it (only the animals. And Binghe, fighting the animals.) And then then then

He'd totally do it on an alt account, right?? Peerless Cucumber can't be seen making fanart!! (And he's good at it. Like, wiki is using his art in the monsters and beasts pages (that Peerless Cucumber volleyed for. He also separated it from the plant section.) Because 1 its good 2 the artstyle is consistent 3 there isn't a lot of monster official art, other than that one with the black moon rhinoceros python and those other ones and 4 it's really that good)

Haha incomprehensible parenthesis nesting aside, Airplane is watching the forums, right? Not sure about other stuff in canon but he looks at the forums and the fanart and the fiction and most of it is probably corn and binghe and just a little bit of mobei-jun and also the wives tm but!! There's also that guy!!! The monsters guy!! (People would probably suspect 'Drawing the Beast's Ire'- or some other sex euphemism I'm not good at making those- of being Peerless Cucumber because 1 the writing style is the same 2 Peerless Cucumber is the number 1 contributor to the PIDW wiki and a lot of it is the monsters and beasts section and it makes sense, yes??) Anyway, Airplane shooting towards the sky suspects but not too seriously suspects Mr ire of being cucumber's fanart alt but uh uh that ends pre-transmigration section

So, Shen Yuan starts running about, right? Things seem really... familiar, maybe thats the word?- for some reason. This is because every animal and plant he's ever drawn, sketched- maybe even thought about but that's a stretch?- is his design. The firefly parallels hold their forelimbs like butterflies. That is how far down it goes. Maybe it doesn't come up until later, but beasts and monsters from fanfiction get involved, oc species, too... anyway,

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky transmigrates 30 years (iirc) before Peerless Cucumber. He was an avid enough follower of Drawing the Beast's Ire to recognize that these are their designs! Here's where it gets really crazy. Xiao-Mobei comes along, and while he's still pretty young, Airplane can tell that this is Drawing Ire's design! Some aspect, maybe his ears or teeth, (this isn't a well built theoretical tangent) of Mobei isnt canon. Its Drawing Ire's. From that one Northern Kingdom collection. Whatever stretched his world building into coherence, completion, didn't just pull from fanwork, official art, whatever it could find, it went for Drawing the Beast's Ire's designs specifically. Damn that's crazy Airplane ahahaha moving on,

This is getting really long so I'll be a bit more concise, (want to know more? Talk to me. Please talk to me. I want to interact with the fandom. Ask me questions. Poke your fingers into my cage.) This all comes to head at the Immortal alliance conference. The monsters and beasts really start pouring in! And Shen Qingqiu/Yuan remembers his creations. However, he assumes that this is because like 1 other person maybe was Drawing ghost head spiders.

Hey, Peerless Cucumber really liked the monsters, right? The deadlier, crazier, more intricate, the design the better! So maybe, when he was drawing, he... added some things, really believable, logical additions, really just small creative decisions...

Anyway, the monsters that Drawing the Beast's Ire made were where it came to a head.

Lets have another Canon divergence. Maybe, during or after Binghe gets pushed in, out of the rifts comes a species that Drawing Ire created. It's beautiful, poisonous, beloved, and really quite deadly. Shen Yuan/Qingqiu, Peerless Cucumber, Drawing the Beast's Ire... realizes, quite like airplane before him, that he's illustrated, practically sculpted with his own hands, monsters from the Endless Abyss with claws and teeth and poisons as deadly as Peerless Cucumber thought that the really cool monsters could deserve. It feels like he's the one cutting, biting, poisoning his sweet little sheep. It feels like he's digging out the marrow from his little white lotus disciple's bones.

Ok it is shut up time 👍

[these-written-reveries]

Cuddles with Joker (Ft. Grumpy J)

‣ Pairing: Ledger!Joker/Jack Napier x GN!Reader

‣ Summary: Cuddles with J can be sweet...but quite dangerous too...

‣ Genre: fluff

‣ Warnings: grumpy/soft!J, super tiny suggestive hint somewhere, casual mention of murder, lightly proofread.

‣ Word Count: 947

‣A/N: Was going through my old notes and found this. While I haven't written for Jack in a long time, and probably won't write any new material anytime soon (unless inspiration miraculously hits again), I figure the Joker fandom is always in need of more content, right? So, here you go! (Maybe I'll post some of my other old J notes/drabbles sometime as well?)

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

◆ J would never say it, but he loves cuddling. HUGE cuddler, this one.

◆ He loves to be enveloped by you.

◆ Sometimes he'll come up to you, no words spoken, but distinct intention in his eyes as he crawls into bed, wraps his arms around you, and dives into your neck.

◆ You're not even surprised by this anymore. In fact, you look forward to it. These moments don't happen every day.

◆ When it does happen, you are quick to wrap your arms and legs around him, giving him what he wants.

◆ Each time, he lets out a sigh as his entire body relaxes.

◆ Doesn't matter the position, so long as all of your limbs are wrapped around his body.

◆ You're like his personal weighted blanket, pillow, and teddy bear all in one.

◇ (He's the real teddy bear in this relationship, but you better keep that to yourself.)

◆ You plan to wake up early in the morning to get things done? FORGET IT. Work? HA! AS IF…

◆ No, no, no, YOU are gonna stay right where J wants you to. Safe and sound in his arms.

◇ (More like chained and bound in his arms because there's no way in hell he's letting you go anywhere.)

◆ You try to move and suddenly he's growling a warning into your neck like a predator to its prey.

◇ "Nuh-uh...Don't even think about it."

◆ Sometimes no coherent words are spoken, and all that's heard is a low grumble of annoyance.

◆ Like a python, each time you move, even slightly, his arms grow tighter around you.

◆ Don't worry, though, he makes sure to leave just enough room for you to breathe (barely).

◆ It's a borderline hostage situation, but so long as you give the man what he wants, you'll be just fine.

◆ Now, it is no secret that J is NOT a morning person. At least, not in the usual way…

◆ He does his best work in the darkest hours of the night through early morning, scampering around the city of Gotham and leaving chaos in his wake.

◆ If he happens to be home, the only way he'll ever get to bed is if you physically drag him to it—usually at some ungodly hour of the morning. Otherwise, he'll go for days without sleep until his body completely crashes on its own.

◆ Even when he's asleep, he holds you tightly, almost as if he's afraid you'll go running off during his slumber. He can't have that…

◆ If you do manage to get him to bed, especially if you're lucky enough to get him to bed at somewhat of a reasonable time, you best leave him be.

◆ At this point, there is an unspoken rule between the two of you. You want him to sleep? You're staying with him the whole time. And if you wake him up too early? Be prepared to face the beast that will certainly arise.

◆ See, you may have had your full beauty sleep by the time the morning hours hit, but J certainly hasn't. Waking J up too early is a hornet's nest you don't wanna go poking at.

◆ That said…You secretly love grumpy J…

◆ Grumpy J has been known to kill anyone who disturbs his sleep on the spot. He's ruthless and unforgiving. Downright dangerous.

◆ But to you? To you, he's harmless. Cute, even.

◆ J would NEVER hurt you (minus a few exceptions, *wink, wink*).

◆ He may still be grumpy and growly and demanding. And he may certainly deny your lungs from being filled with the proper amount of oxygen. But he would never hurt you.

◆ In fact, you tell him his grip is too tight, he'll loosen up for you. Not too much, of course. And if you're REALLY lucky, he'll even press a little kiss to your skin, wherever his lips can reach—one of the smallest, yet loudest forms of fondness and care that Grumpy J is capable of showing.

◆ Don't get me started on how much J LOVES your affection during cuddle time. Even Grumpy J would never deny your love, though he may pout and grumble his way through it.

◆ One thing about J is HE'S A LIARRRR… An exceptionally honest man in most cases with you, except for when it comes to how much he adores your love for him—in all of its many forms.

◆ As much as he tries to hide this, his body always gives the truth away.

◆ You pet his hair, or—even better—run those gentle fingers through it? He's already melting into you, borderline purring like a cat.

◆ Kisses? Your lips? Anywhere? He's fucking done for. It may not appear as so on the outside, but so help him, he's spinning out of control on the inside. His heart is racing, his body is tingling, his head is spinning. Only you give him that kind of rush. And, oh, does he love you for that.

◆ Your hands caressing his back, fingertips gently tracing over the scars on his chest and arms, drawing new shapes on his skin. If you've reached this stage, he's already a big pile of mush. There's no hiding it now and he knows it. Your touch makes him go loopy in the best fucking way.

◆ The moments when you wrap yourself around him, encasing him with your entire body are quite literally the only moments he feels truly safe and content. Will he EVER say any of this to you? ABSOLUTELY NOT. But, he doesn't have to. You know. And he knows you know. And that's all that matters.

◆ So please, for his sake and yours, give the man his cuddles. And don't expect to be released for quite some time after…

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

L!Joker/Jack Napier Masterlist

Main Masterlist

‣Taglist: @jslittlebirdie @alittlesmartcookie

‣ If you’d like to join the taglist for Ledger!Joker/Jack, let me know by sending me an ask/message, or comment on this post!

💜 Comments and Reblogs mean the world to me! 💜

[gojosatoruwifey]

ㅡglub glub glub glub glub

✑ happy happy happy birthday to our red fishie ♡(◕ᗜ◕✿) as usual, this fic is written the day before my finals exam (・ω ・✿)

✿ warning/s: fluff, short, blushy! rafayel is the best rafayel, simps, let me know if i missed something!

✿ character/s: rafayel, fem! reader

📜🖋️🎀SUPPORT MY KO-FI🎀🖋️📜

it’s his birthday so you follow what he does that makes your heart skip a beat

rafayel is in for a surprise.

he already suspected that you’re doing something fishy behind his back, especially the date in the calendar that tells him that his birthday is around the corner. a good boyfriend that he is, he will just let you do your thing.

rafayel didn’t, in fact, see this coming. 

the smooch landing on his cheek was so swift that if he didn’t know you’re standing before him, waist bent down as you put your weight to your one arm and the other retrieving a small pillow beside him — he is thinking to check himself into the mental ward, complain to the doctor there that he is having a hallucination of you kissing him randomly and so suddenly at that as he lazily sprawled to the couch, phone in hand.

you, with all your might, maintained a composed face as if you didn’t just copy one of your boyfriend’s cute antics that he is unaware makes your thoughts haywire. rafayel’s gradient stellar eyes stare wide at you, perplexing surprise swirling behind those beautiful pools as he looks up at you from the couch.

a successful cheer erupted inside your mind. satisfied with his reaction, calling forth every cell in your brain to commit his face to memory. rafayel’s reddening cheeks all the way to his ears, doe eyes round and shiny. 

turning on your back with the pillow hugged by your arms, you act like you don’t mind him and continue on your way.

success!

to be honest, when rafayel gets whiny, begging for attention or dragging you to a spontaneous date, it awakens a dormant beast within you.

so, when it’s your turn to act cutesy around him, you’re looking forward to it.

internally, rafayel is losing his mind. whose fault is it? you, who else. what in the world have you been up to? your recent actions have become unpredictable and difficult for him to anticipate.

you're doing it again! he bit his lower lips he’s afraid blood would soon appear as you had a python grip on his arm, pouty and sulky dripping on your voice, “i want that one, win me artsy birb plushie! please? rafayel?”

“i…” where did his usual nonchalant of a bodyguard go.

he felt you get closer, “i will! i will!” rafayel maneuver the claw, his arm still pressed to your body, clinging to him. oblivious to the grin curled on your lips. the heat on his cheeks and ears hasn’t gone away, staying there much to his chagrin.  if he were to glance at the couple in the reflection of the claw machine plush’s glass, he might have not missed it.

another success!

now, onto the last one. you are not so sure how to proceed with this one. it’s not that you’re not confident to pull this move to him but rather, how to make the timing right. should it be on the day? to have better lighting? what of the place? should you hold this in the destiny cafe or at his home or yours? a date is a go-to since you can create a more romantic atmosphere so a date it is, then. you nodded to yourself.

on the other hand, rafayel’s heart will explode the more he lets you hold the reign. it's bad for his health. what will happen to linkon were their precious artist gets sick? he will blame you, really.

if you pull another one…

shit, he curses. it's late morning, brunch, unoccupied second floor with just the two of you, the muffled tappings of laptop keys below, the occasional bell ring when a customer enters and the staff greeting them, the beeping indicator of the hot water in the kitchen, the sound of beans hitting the bottom of the container, the rush of coffee cascaded in a cup.

and the warm sunlight pouring into the table where you two are sitting.

a finger lightly brushed the strands of his hair near his eyes. rafayel watches mutely. the words he has been practicing and the dramatic actions he thought last night are gone in an instant. you move away from the strays as you make eye contact with him, muttering, “there. i can see you better. don’t look down like that or you will hurt your neck.”

red bursts completely all over his face. steam coming out of his head.

“what’s the matter with you? you look like reddie.”

k.o!

[sinn-bee]

[Excerpts from the studies of the Beast Taming peak]

The Gilded Mane Corpse Wolf

A demonic beast from the wastes of the demon realms, they are solitary creatures who seldom form packs. They begin life as scavengers, the pups setting off on their own and surviving off of scraps as they seek out the strongest demonic beast they can find. They learn to hunt and stalk, waiting for the powerful beast they have chosen to meet an untimely end and on the rare occasion delivering the final blow to carry it to death’s door. The Gilded Mane Corpse Wolf will then make its territory around its chosen one’s resting place, guarding the decomposing monster, feasting on it, and waiting for its bones to be picked clean by vermin as it grows to a size comparable to the dead beast.

When the bones are clean and free, the Gilded Mane Corpse Wolf will arrange the bones and roll in them- tangling them into its long golden fur until they are secure. With a surge of demonic energy the fur hardens into a metallic material, permanently affixing the bones as armor.

It is less of a scavenger at this point, depending on the kind of beast skeleton the Wolf has grown to don, it can range from a sleek and quick deadly predator equipped with sharp spurs of bone to a nigh impenetrable foe with thick armor. It then stalks its territory, expanding its borders and driving away strong beasts, inflicting them with deep wounds.

The pups are often sought out by demonic courts as trophies. Plucked from their pilgrimage for their clean and untangled fur that has many uses from a brilliant conduit for demonic energy to being used for beautiful embroidery to hardening into its metallic form for weapons. Less commonly, they are captured to be trained as war hounds. They are difficult to tame and raise, the confinement making it difficult for them to grow and become suitable for the handpicked bones its captors try to make it don. But on the rare occasion that its owners are successful they make formidable beasts on the battlefield regardless of their unpredictable temper.

It is not recommended to approach this demonic beast alone, given as each one is unique outfitted it is impossible to plan ahead to fight. They are best fought with a team of cultivators that possess a wide range of fighting styles and experiences. The bones of the Gilded Mane Corpse Wolf are potent with Demonic energy but if harvested and cleansed can be used for crafted powerful spiritual objects with a strength for detecting evil. The ivory crafted this way always carries a lovely golden sheen. The fur can also be used as a potent material for weaving spells and talismans into fabric. It is unknown if humans are capable of taming these creatures as the pups reside very far in the demon realm and are experts at evasion. On the few noted experiences of cultivators finding escaped trained Wolves, they do not seem keen on taking human instruction.

[end of excerpt]

Did I write a whole journal entry on the Pidw creature I made up for a fic? Yes. Yes I did <3 Fun fact, I sketched this on paper first and then colored it digitally! The specific wolf here is wearing bones based off of a rhinoceros skeleton a dark moon python rhinoceros maybe…

[ronnykins-needshelp]

🐍 Beast tamer’s petty kidnappers agenda

Chapter 2 is now out on AO3 - link

Preview

Shen Yuan decided to be the most obnoxious little shit he could while he was draped over Luo binghes shoulder. He screamed profanities, bit, scratched, whined, complained, you name it!

But that fucker still didnt put him down!! Usually, such tactics worked – his entire family can back that up! – but this man didn't even budge. Was that even humanly possible?

Not for him because he was a motherfucking demon!!

Due to adrenaline, Shen Yuan’s brain didn't actually process the fact that the demon lord of the 2 realms was carrying him. All he had in mind was the poor black-moon Rhinoceros python that was killed.

He took a minute to catch his breath while rubbing his throat, his asthmatic ass couldn’t take such long periods of screaming.

“ All cried out? “ The demon snarked under him. Shen Yuan felt a rush of smugness to hear that his pestering did, in fact, affect the demon.

“No. “ Then, he continued his antics until they arrived at their destination.

Which were unfortunately bed chambers. He was plopped down onto the luxurious bed in the side of the room. He looked around as he tried to determine his predicament.

The room was crudely simple. Not like how he would style his room – which was an organized chaos of bestiary notes, food, plants, and his special fan collection. This, however, harbored a single desk and nightstand. There were scrolls on top of both, but they were organized in a way that made the impression they had just been left there a day prior. But Shen Yuan knew better, he could see the layers of dust everywhere in the room. It made him wonder what exactly is the significance of this bedroom.

Oh shit.

He is in a bedroom

_______

He had only just reunited with his Shizun for a few hours, but he knew already that it would be a tremendous effort to get him back to his old self. It never really occurred to him that maybe this was his shizun’s real personality, with how much emotion he guarded that also included smiling.

So he marched towards the private courtyard that he had built with his own two hands and kicked the door open — not hard enough to break, but enough to get the message. He heard before before his eyes fell upon the scene before him that left him breathless.

“ The monster's gone. “

The floor that surrounded the bed was filled with servants looking in awe.

“ He’s on the run. “

Long, slender, and delicate fingers gently caressed a face softened by tears.

“ And your daddy’s here. “

Green and white robes rested on a dainty frame that leaned forward as the light shone from the window; it gave the sight an ethereal radiance no other dared replicate.

“ Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful, “

The lips that sang the sweet melodies of earthly birds were curved in the gentlest smile that could rival the brightest star.

“ Beautiful boy. “

The tune heightens at the last moment as if a mother was soothing her crying child.

[weyounthevorta]

Boy Band Beauties

You’re getting married next week, and gosh dang it you were put in charge of selecting a local boy band to play live at the reception. You royally goofed and waited until the last minute. With this kind of short notice the pickings are sorta slim.

You searched high and low and found four bands with availability on your wedding day.

Who are you hiring?

Idea from @kaptainandy

[suzdin]

Washed Up Has-Been: a Dieter Bravo one shot

Dieter Bravo x F!Plus Size!Reader

Warnings: soft!Dieter, sweet!Dieter, smut, angst, bodily insecurities, reader is plus sized but no other physical attributes are described, Dieter is a little chubby as well, mentions of drugs and alcohol, oral (m receiving), mention of sex toys, fluff? (gasp!), did I forget anything? I know next to nothing about the film industry, don’t judge me :(

Word Count: 2,800

Enjoy and feel free to reblog and comment if you wish! 💜🙂

——

Dieter Bravo had not been the same since Cliff Beasts 6.

What did they call it? Losing your spark? Your mojo? Your moxy? Whatever it was called, he’d lost it, along with his marbles… if he ever had any to begin with, and he was sure many would agree he hadn’t.

The reviews were bad, abhorrent, really. ‘Dieter Bravo as Gio Ricci baffling’, ‘Bravo couldn’t act his way out of a paper bag’, ‘I can’t believe this man has an Oscar’, ‘Did he get his Italian accent at an Olive Garden?’, on and on the critics wailed and lambasted.

He’d had a mental break shortly after the premier, firing everyone he could in his vicinity — his publicist, his hair stylist and manicurist, hell, even his agent of twenty five years. He’d hired a new one, of course, a potential script FedExed to his door that morning, fist curled and white knuckled in anger around the thick stack of papers as he perched himself like a sentient gargoyle on his couch, in the tattered clothes he’d been wearing for nearly a week.

A dad. They wanted him to play a fucking dad, some sort of buddy comedy family film opposite Dwayne Johnson, it might be a good move for your career, buddy, his agent had explained. But seriously, him? Hollywood heart throb Dieter Bravo, reduced to playing someone’s bumbling father, opposite THE FUCKING ROCK?

He couldn’t believe it.

He had put on some weight since his last film, sure, but that was no reason or excuse to allow himself to be typecasted as a dad.

Or was it the ever persistent graying in his hair and beard? The laugh lines? The crow’s feet?

‘Dieter Bravo is a washed up has-been’ the internet screamed at him daily, leading him to drown himself in an endless stream of drugs and alcohol…more so than he was already doing, anyway.

He was barely a functioning person. A husk of his former self, he could no longer get it up, unsure whether to blame the drugs or his steadily fleeting mental health, and even putting brush to canvas felt more like a chore than an escape nowadays. He’d become a hermit in his own home, the ghastly, aging 1970s mid-century horror he resided in the Hollywood Hills, that he thought was amazing when he originally bought it a decade ago.

Well, much like him, older things fall apart, and the house was a piece of shit, which was apt.

He had hired you as his assistant and he was so vague as to what that entailed that you were sort of a jack of all trades as far as helping was concerned, acting as his maid, his cook, the middle man to screen his calls, his emails, so on and so forth. Hell, you even took care of the large python he’d bought ‘because it looked cool’, that he was now too scared to touch, himself.

You did it all, and although he never properly expressed as much, he was more grateful for you than he let on.

He always found you pretty, too. Beautiful, even, and not in the fake way he’d grown used to, living in Hollywood. You were kind, sweet, and uncorrupted by a crueler world, always happy and eager to assist him with whatever he needed.

And if he was being honest with himself, the thought of you sheathed around his cock was the only thing that could even get him half hard anymore.

When you arrive for the day, you find him on his couch, glowering at what you can only assume is another bad script, graying hair disheveled and curling away from his skull, teeth gritted in disdain. A look you had come to recognize and were more than familiar with.

“Let me take that to the garbage for you,” you offer, as you normally do in these situations, stepping forward to reach for the offending script.

His eyes clock the way your breasts sway when you walk, the roundness of your belly, the plushness of your arms. He can’t help but stare; he wants to bury himself in you and stay there forever.

He swallows, moving the script away from your extended hand and tucking it behind a cushion, distracted by your body.

“No — no, it’s okay,” he replies and his voice feels like gravel in his throat, realizing he hasn’t spoken all day until now.

Although the script sucks and he doesn’t want to do it, he needs the money. “Thanks.”

You notice his eyes on you and you sit, leaving about a foot of space between you to maintain a modicum of professionalism, observing the sadness behind his dark brown eyes and knowing this has been the norm for several months now but still hating it for what it is.

“What’s on the docket for today?” you ask him and he shrugs, unhelpfully, his lips pulled into a frown, shadows staining the lines of his face. You haven’t seen him this bad in a while.

“I can… make you some hot tea?” you ask, looking down at the schedule in your lap, of which nothing is jotted down for the day.

He shakes his head, carding a hand through his hair. “No. I’m out of tea.”

You chew your lip. “Okay… well, then I guess I’m running to the store today. I have a list already, but can you think of anything else?”

Once again, he shakes his head. “No. I’ll just order it or something.”

You frown and tuck the schedule away, crossing your legs and turning to face him, contemplative.

“Then what do you want me to do today? You’re paying me to be here,” you note. “Unless you’d rather I go home.”

“No!” he damn near shouts, making you jump, and he immediately regrets his lack of impulse control. His gaze traverses your subtle cleavage and you clear your throat, heat warming your skin. “Sorry, it’s just… I don’t want to be alone right now. Can we just hang out?” he queries.

“Dieter, are you okay?” you question and he shakes his head in response.

“No.” A single word that says so much more than that. It pulls at your heart strings, seeing him like this. “I — I’m a nobody.”

“You aren’t a nobody, you’re Oscar winner Dieter fucking Bravo,” you counter, and he snorts, picking at some dry skin on his ankle.

“Yeah, Dieter fucking Bravo, the aging has-been who can’t act his way out of a paper bag,” he snorts.

“If you keep talking like that, I’m going to take away your internet access so you can’t read all the mean tweets about yourself,” you threaten.

“You wouldn’t.”

“One call to your financial advisor and I would and could,” you retort and Dieter scoffs, trying to remember if he’d fired him yet or not.

You cross your arms and flop back against the worn and flattened couch cushions, eyeing him smugly.

The movement pushes your chest up and out, his gaze on you once again and he isn’t subtle about it this time. You clear your throat and stir, staring back at his soft, plush lips.

“Dieter—“

“Come here,” he murmurs quietly and the spontaneity of it catches you off guard, your jaw hanging agape in disbelief and confusion.

“…What?”

It had been months since anyone had touched him, had wanted to touch him, and now, as he stares at your body and smells your light vanilla perfume, after the shitty week he’s had, he needs to be touched, even if only briefly.

“Come… here,” he repeats, more dogged than before, and in spite of yourself, despite how unprofessional it is, you find yourself scooting forward.

He grabs your hips when you’re within reach and drags you the rest of the way, pulling the cushion partially off the couch in the process, a small yelp of surprise escaping your lungs as he softly grips your face to bring his lips to yours.

They’re plush, dry, lightly chapped and he tastes a little like whiskey and weed, but you don’t really mind, his coarse, wiry mustache scratching and tickling against your nose.

Suddenly, with a soft groan in the back of his throat, his hand is under your shirt, cupping your breast, and you break the kiss, looking down to where his arm disappears beneath the fabric, shock settling over your features.

“Dee… are you… are you sure?” you ask. You don’t exactly look like the people Dieter had been confirmed dating in the past, and you feel a wave of trepidation, your self conscious nature bubbling to the surface. You’ve always felt Dieter Bravo was more than a little out of your league.

Not that you’re dating him, but, you know.

“I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t sure,” he tuts and kisses you again, rougher this time, palming your breast, making your cunt throb.

He groans. You’re so good to him, always taking such good care of him, and you feel exactly the way he thought you would, warm and luscious and supple, his dick already fighting with the seam of his pajama pants, the first time in weeks.

And you’ve wanted this, too, as long as you’ve worked for him, never confessing your feelings for fear of losing your job. You never imagined Dieter fucking Bravo would feel the same way about you.

You know Dee needs this, you need this, and you want to make him feel good.

You brush a hand over his hardening cock and he damn near bucks himself straight off the couch with a grunt and a sharply uttered, “Fuck” against your lips. You grin into his mouth at how much composure he’s already lost from so few touches.

You pull away after a moment and scoot off the couch, sinking onto your knees in front of him, nestling yourself between his broad thighs.

He watches you, rigid cock tremoring in his pants at the sight, the outline of it clearly visible and straining against the fabric. “You… you don’t have to…” His voice is thick, haggard.

“Let me take care of you, Dee,” you mewl as you nuzzle your face against the squishy paunch of his stomach, lifting his shirt to plant small, reverent kisses in a circle around his belly button. He giggles and flinches at the contact.

“Sorry, sorry — ticklish,” he explains and you smile, placing a few more kisses there, more delicate than the ones that preceded them, trailing a line from his navel to the thick swathe of hair leading to his crotch.

Despite the pounds he’s put on recently, he doesn’t feel at all uncomfortable in front of you, eyes darkening as he drinks you in visually, lips tight and parted, breaths growing deeper in the barrel of his chest.

You look up and from your current perspective, he’s all wild haired and broad shouldered, panting, your cunt clenching with desire as you eye him with a wry grin.

You smooth his shirt down over his belly and move your face to the hard bulge below, nosing the bulk of it through the fabric and inhaling his natural scent, thick and musky and masculine in your nostrils. You both groan in unison.

“Dear god,” he grunts, “I feel like I’m about to— aaaaugh— fucking bust already.”

“Save it for my mouth, at least,” you snip and his head rolls back against the cushion at your words, the one with the sag in the middle where his neck always rests, eyes sliding shut.

“You’re so good for me,” he pants softly, already so close to falling apart, “I take you for granted and I’m sorry.”

“Dieter, shh.” You find the stretchy waistband of his striped trousers and drag them down his hips, not all surprised to see he’s gone commando, cock springing free from the cage of fabric, uncut and dribbling against the drag of soft cotton. He’s girthy, and you’ve never seen one intact in the flesh before — literally — a small puff of air escaping your lips, taking in the sight of him for a few seconds before coming to your senses.

“Is everything alr—“ he starts to ask, cutting himself off when you unexpectedly cup his heavy balls in your palm and lick a slow stripe up his length with the flat of your tongue, his hips quivering and bucking involuntarily. “Shit—“

You grin, humming satisfactorily to yourself and continue to tease him, his hands finding your hair, fingers twisting at the roots as the rings he insists on wearing get caught in the strands, pulling ever so slightly. You moan.

You feel incredible, your tongue working his most sensitive areas, and he’s having a hard time holding it together, torso heaving above you, tiny whimpers departing his lips, and he hasn’t even entered your mouth yet.

You sense how much trouble he’s having at keeping himself in check, so you back off a touch to give him a momentary reprieve, shifting to kiss along the meat of his inner thighs, nipping at the tiny elephant tattoos etched into his skin as you do so.

He cups one hand on the back of your neck, watching you through half-lidded eyes, your lips like pure velvet and heaven.

He’s already forgotten about the shitty script tucked into the couch, about the bad reviews and the critics with their cruel, baseless quips. Faded away to nothingness, akin to what he experiences when he’s completely blitzed, negative thoughts dissolving to the back of his mind to be discarded, and for now, for the moment, the only thing that matters is you, your beauty, and how well you take care of him.

After what seems like an eternity of small, worshipping, teasing touches to the insides of his thighs and the rim of his belly, your lips return to his cock, lapping at the precum that’s beaded up at the slit before taking him into your mouth, hand fisted at the base as you work him into your throat.

He’s impervious at this point to keep his hips flush against the couch, shuddering into your mouth as you take him and pushing further down your throat, not entirely on purpose, moaning as the wet heat of your mouth engulfs him.

“Wanna— fuck your pussy next time— with a vibrating plug in your ass,” he grunts, hardly able to string a single cohesive thought together, making your cunt throb and slick leak into the cradle of your panties.

Dieter wasn’t one to shy away from toys, and in fact had an entire drawer full of them, which you had accidentally stumbled upon one day when putting away some of his clothes; everything from butt plugs to cock rings to flesh lights with multiple attachments and bondage gear.

You steady his hips with your hands and hold him in place as best you can, difficult with how much stronger he is than you, jaw stretching to fit him, the musky tang of him flooding your tastebuds.

You steadily rock your head up and down his length, taking him all the way to the back of your throat, and you can feel the veins running the length of his shaft pulsating against your tongue, feel the way his balls tighten as he edges ever closer to the precipice.

He’s wanted you, needed you, for so long, that he can’t contain himself much longer. His hips begin to stutter and you feel his body growing taut, hear his breaths growing shallow and haggard, fingers curling against your scalp.

“I’m… I’m gonna… fucking cum,” he grunts deep in his chest. That’s all the warning he allows before his hips stall and he lets out a visceral growl of pleasure, spilling a hot and heavy load across your tongue, some of it seeping out at the edges and dribbling down his thighs until you’re able to steady yourself.

You hold him in your mouth until you feel the very last drop hit the back of your throat, slowly pulling off only when you feel him starting to go soft.

“You should really clean up this awful mess you’ve made,” Dieter taunts when you sit back to catch your breath, watching the cocktail of spend and saliva slide down his tan skin.

You grin and tip your head forward to obediently lap at the escaped fluids. He groans as he savors the delicious sight of you, affectionately brushing his fingers through your hair as you do so.

After a moment, you rise from the ground, your knees cracking from the exertion, joining him on the couch as he tugs his pajama bottoms back up his hips.

He snakes an arm around the small of your back and kisses you, deep and full, moaning when he tastes remnants of himself on your tongue.

He grins against your lips and then rises, yanking you off the couch and giggling along with you when you pass him a perplexed look.

“Where are we going now?” you ask, pleased to see him happy and relaxed again after all this time, to actually see him smiling.

“You took care of me, so I’m going to take care of you. You’re familiar with my special drawer, aren’t you?”

—

FIN. xx

[milton-dammers]

Beauty and the Beast (1987) Python (S01E04)

[satcnus]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ       𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐘

𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐘   - n.  balanced proportions. also: beauty of form arising from balanced proportions.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. ex-military widower ✖ runaway stray

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒. older protective male x vulnerable teen fem. widower x runaway. paternal elements within romance. male saviorism. size differences. opposites attract. ride or die. hurt, comfort, healing. v-rginity loss. dead dove do not eat.

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆! The following original fiction contains potentially triggering content, including: extreme age gap, homicide, child and spousal death, kidnapping, s-xual as-sault (background only), r-pe recovery, child abuse (background only), post-traumatic stress disorder and disabling mental illness, and mild ddlg themes (clothing, nicknames). Read at your own discretion.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐎𝟑 — EARLY RELEASE. 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑.

Gods of deceit. 

Once whispered of through the cathedrals of Greece, Dolos and his descendants had taken on new masquerade. Sometimes the devil came with a beady-eyed, hungry gaze upon a girl’s flesh. Sometimes the devil was not a man at all. Sometimes the devil, sometimes Dolos, took the form of a blonde-haired, round-eyed free spirit with a giggle in her throat and a sense of self-assurance. 

And when Apollo slayed Delphi’s guardian beast, and in that dragon Python's ruin did Oracle speak prophecies of the universe, Apollo unleashed unto the world the lesson of bravery begetting awareness.  Only through courage could the universe’s secrets be revealed to the common man. What had been revealed to her, through her courage? When Dolos had crafted her mirage, a benevolent actress coined Jaime, did she look upon that woman’s features as Prometheus did, and forget to look down, and notice that the statue of her Veritas was not Veritas at all, but a fraud? A decoy? A doppelganger, strung up and puppeteered by that devil of trickery, luring her forward into his den with promises of freedom?

She was just an echo. 

Some fogged out mind, reverberating against its own stimuli.

Perhaps if she had slain her own Python, Oracle might have warned her of what was to come. Might have warned her of Dolos, and his trickery, and his deceit. 

She was slowed, shallow breaths. She was deadened body weight. She was blank, glossed eyes. She was nothing. She was nothing at all.

A plume of smoke. A black van, tucked far away from civilization, off in the desert, where no one could even pass by the misplaced vehicle. No one to look on, curiously, and think—hm, that’s strange. No one to investigate the conversation coming from behind the opened back doors. No one to save her. No one to save her. 

“Close your eyes, Nara. No peeking.”

Click. Click-click-click-click.

What?

The handcuffs had gone on when she was sixteen. Four months after her pioneered saviors had invited her on their journey across the western hemisphere of the United States. Four months after Jaime had blocked her on discord. Four months after Hunter’s insidious grip had snaked around her bare thigh, and secured it as his own. Taken it from her, and reclaimed it as his. Property. She was property. 

She tried to scream. 

Nothing left her lips. Not even a huff. 

Her breaths dragged slower and slower, without her permission.

DUE TO SENSITIVE CONTENT, CONTINUE READING ON AO3.

[nogetron]

Anansi, the eight legged trickster. Anansi was born between the union of his mother Asase Yaa and Nyame the creator. Anansi was a crafty and cunning deity, the embodiment of knowledge, preferring to use strategy and deception over brute strength. With his father, Anansi sculpted the Human body, with Nyame providing the breath of life, and Asase Yaa giving them their blood. Anansi lived among the humans, noticing that their lives were dull and held no laughter and excitement. So Anansi spun a thread to the highest heaven and climbed up to meet with his father. Anansi asked Nyame for ownership of the endless cache of stories that Nyame held. Amused by his son’s brashness, Nyame offered Anansi an impossible test, to capture the four most elusive beasts on earth, Onini the python, the Mmoboro hornets, Osebo the leopard, and the forest spirit Mmoatia. Anansi accepts the challenge and consults with his wife Aso formulating a plan to trap each of his targets. He tricked Onini into being wrapped up with a branch, he caught the Mmoboro by having them seek refuge in his cabalash, he ambushed Osebo with a pitfall trap, and the spirit Mmoatia became stuck to a doll Anansi covered in sticky sap. The spider gleefully brought his bounty to his father. Nyame was delighted by his son’s accomplishment, keeping to his word Nyame gave Anansi the endless stories he once held, however Nyame went further and bestowed Anansi as the Lord of Stories. Anansi ventured back down to earth and shared his stories among humanity, bringing joy and happiness to the people. But later on, Anansi felt that humans had misused the knowledge he gave, deciding that he’d take back all knowledge and hoard it for himself. He gathered every last bit of wisdom and stored it in his calabash, planning to hide it at the top of the tallest tree. Anansi held onto the gourd as he climbed, however his son advised him that he should tie it to his back as he climbed. Anansi disregarded his son’s advice and continued to climb until, because of the cabalash, he lost his grip and plummeted to the ground. The cabalash shattered, with Anansi shouting profanities in frustration. But as he calmed down he realized that despite him gathering all the world’s knowledge, his son still tried to put him on the right track. Coming to the conclusion that his knowledge should be shared and not hoarded, Anansi and his son blew the knowledge into the wind, spreading wisdom into all living things.

These stories, called Anansi stories, are incredibly prolific among west Africa, and even Africa itself. Anansi narratives are incredibly varried, from him fighting the embodiment of Jealousy, to him becoming bald. Anansi can play the role of the protagonist and the Antagonist of the narrative. According to some Akan beliefs, Anansi is viewed as being one and the same as Nyame others say that he’s the reincarnation of Nyame or the manifestation of Nyame’s Emanation Odomankoma, However in some beliefs Anansi isn’t connected to Nyame at all. Some tales elaborate on his family, describing his children as Ntikuma his firstborn son, Anansewa his beautiful daughter, Nankonwhea his gangly son, and Afudohwedohwe his last born son. Anansi is the epitome of the trickster god archetype connecting him with many a god and mortal across the world, such as the Irish Lugh, the Anishinaabe Nanabozho, the Polynesian Maui, the Australian Wahn and the Norse Loki. The trickster is an integral part of the numerous african mythologies, Anansi’s counterparts include the Vodun Papa Legba, the Yoruba Eshu, the Egyptian Set, the Dogon Ogo, and the San Kaggen, with their ancient ancestors possibly being the origin of the Tricksters across the globe. Anansi himself has given rise to other traditions as well, his stories being brought to the new world from the shackles of the slave trade. Slaves would tell his stories and inspire those who listened to rebel against their captors. Such stories intermingled and exchanged with other enslaved cultures, giving rise to the Bantu Br’er rabbit, in Haiti anansi was revered under the name Guede but in other cultures his personality splits into Ti Malice and Bouki. Anansi’s name is an ever changing one, in his homeland his was called “Kwaku Anansi” with his name being rendered as “Ananse” and “Anancy”, in the Americas his names were “Kompa Nanzi” “Nancy” “Aunt Nancy” “Sis’ Nancy” and “Ba Anansi”.