#second-twin-skeleton

[pillarsalt]

I went on a Crying Quest tonight and found myself gently weeping to a video of seniors joyfully playing wii bowling together at their living facility

[cloudyskydreams]

S/O wearing their clothes! UT,UF,UF,HT

Thought this was a cute idea actually got inspired from the last request but decided to make it its own thing. Small little drabbles and two posts for the day I feel accomplished! As always hope y'all enjoy!

Undertale:

Sans:

The rare occasion his jacket is to get washed and you pull it out of the dirty laundry to wear it. It smells like pine and ketchup and you relax into the smell as you stand in your shared bedroom. A chuckle from behind you has you spinning around and you see and amused Sans staring at you through lidded eyes. "was wondering what the jacket was in here" he puns and you smile as he steps closer pulling you into him. "you look cute starlight, you should wear my clothes more"

Papyrus:

It was a brisk autumn day and the air outside was cold enough to make goosebumps rise in your skin. You had only brought a jacket to the outing with your bonefriend and were regretting not bringing mittens or a hat or something of the like. Papyrus noticing how cold you were took off his scarf and wrapped it around your neck, it's a large comfy scarf too. "HERE YOU ARE SWEET PEA DONT WANT YOU GETTING COLD." He thinks you look just perfect in his signature scarf and plans to make you one similar.

Underfell:

Red:

Red had taken his jacket off while working on your car and you being the grateful partner decided to give him a little show when he got back. Slipping on a pair of booty shorts you know he drools over you in and his jacket you pose on the couch and wait for him to come in. It takes a bit and you end up scrolling on your phone but his reaction is priceless. He drops he tool in his hand and his mouth is open in shock as he takes in sight of you. "fuck sweetheart you don't know what you do to me," he growls as he practically pounces on you.

Edge:

Edge had left his clothes on the bed while he hopped in the shower after a long day and you saw your opportunity to try on his prized cape. You chuckle and slip the thing around your neck before impersonating the loud skeleton. He of course finishes much quicker than you anticipated and can't even pretend to be mad when he sees you parading around pretending to be him in his cape. He knocks on the doorframe and smirks upon seeing you're shocked face. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING PET?" he questions a fire in his eyes as he steps closer to you and pulls you flush against him by his cape. He enjoys seeing you in his clothes as it's sort of a way for him to mark you as his. He also thinks you just look great in his clothes.

Underswap:

Blue:

You had stolen blues bandana and had decided to center your entire outfit around the little piece of cloth as a little surprise for him. You dressed up a little and put on the bandana before getting to work on breakfast. About ten minutes later a sleepy Blue exited the room half dressed and rubbing his eyes. "LOVE HAVE YOU SEEN MY— oh…" He takes in the sight of you before smirking. "ISN'T THIS A SIGHT FOR SORE EYES, DRESSED UP ALL FOR ME?" He waltzs over and kisses you while adjusting the bandana. He really enjoys the look and might ask to twin with you in the future.

Stretch:

Stretch had simply switched out what hoodie he had worn that day and you had snatched his signature orange one when you had the chance. "aww honey don't you look cute," He snaps a picture upon seeing you and chuckles as he sends it to Blue ranting about how cute his s/o is. He definetly leaves clothes out more often for you to find and wear. He might doodle you in his hoodie in his free time the image is stuck in his mind.

HorrorTale:

Axe:

He takes his jacket off occasionally and forgets where he puts it. Was actually coming to ask if you had seen it when he found you wear it, and lemme tell you it dwarfs you. Let's out a little "…oh" and his eyelights dilates to fill his whole socket as he stares at you for a few seconds. Thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever seen and occasionally will simply take his jacket off and dump it on you because he enjoys your smell on it.

Willow:

His scarf is pretty torn and he wears it mostly out of sentimentality when he does. He has a new one but this one just holds so many memories he can't get rid of it even if alot of those memories are bad. You slip it on after finding it one day poking around the house, he finds you wearing it and he doesn't really react. "Hello Dearest I See You've Found My Old Scarf," He ruffles your hair and tells you the story of how he first got the scarf. Gently folds it and puts it up when you're done wearing it. He's happy to let you wear his other clothes too and as he's a giant they're all pretty huge on you and he thinks that's cute.

[neverniko101]

Doing Luminswap stuff in this style cuz a comic would be too much work TwT

Story:

Quasar and Nebula were twin orphaned skeletons who didn’t have anyone but each other. Quasar worked as a street cleaner but barely made any money, so Nebula turned to mugging and stealing to support them, soon forming a gang of sorts. Quasar quickly found out about this and begged Nebula to stop, but they needed the money to survive and Nebula refused. Quasar felt awful that he couldn’t take care of his brother and couldn’t stop him from hurting others, blaming himself for everything. Tensions between the two continued to rise as Quasar grew more depressed and Nebula more bitter.

One day while escaping from Royal Guards, Nebula stumbled across a huge tree filled with golden apples and guarded by a massive dragon. According to local legend, the apples granted unimaginable power to those who ate them, but the sacred dragon only gave them to those it thought deserving. Overcome by greed, Nebula brought both Quasar and a young Guard named Filigree to the cave, telling them that the dragon had been ravaging the local villages and needed to be killed immediately. Despite Quasar immediately seeing through his brother’s lie and warning Filigree, the young Guard was so desperate to prove himself that he slayed the dragon without hesitation. In addition to being very illegal, the slaying of a dragon imbues the slayer with the dragon’s magic and soul, forever scarring them with scales.

While Quasar was trying to help Filigree as he painfully sprouted scales and fangs, Nebula took the opportunity to start eating the apples. While shadowy veins began to curl across his bones, the full effect of the magic hadn’t taken place when a group of Royal Guards rushed into the scene. Barely managing to hide the tree and remaining 50% of apples before being taken away, the twins had a shouting match mid-arrest as Nebula found out that Quasar had been the one to call the Guards, both claiming that their actions were for the sake of the other and that they were betraying them. Nebula was taken to the Royal jail, Filigree to a doctor, and Quasar was allowed to leave.

When they discovered that Nebula was the leader of the gang that was the source of much of the Kingdom’s crime in addition to being responsible for the murder of a dragon and Filigree’s scarring, The King sentenced Nebula to death. Upon finding this out, Quasar was absolutely distraught, unable to eat or sleep for days. Upon being beheaded, the magic from eating the apples exploded out of Nebula, turning him into a shadowy beast covered with spindly tentacles and uncountable eyes. Nobody knows what exactly happened afterwards, only that Nebula fled into the forest with the axe used to kill him and covered in blood, the King, Captain of the Guard, and anyone else present never to be seen again.

Nebula was immediately accused of murdering the King and Captain and hunted by Guards. Managing to contain the overflowing magic and revert to a somewhat normal form, Nebula ran to the only place he thought was safe, he and Quasar’s house. Quasar, upon hearing of the murder his brother was accused of and finding Nebula on his doorstep covered in blood and head reattached, freaked out quite a lot. Nebula, extremely traumatized and upset, accused Quasar about not caring about him, second shouting match ensued, and Nebula ran away after disowning his brother. Quasar understandably loses his shit and eats the other 50% of the apples, turning into owl jester man and joining the King’s son Aster and Filigree as they try to fix the Kingdom and also catch Nebula. Nebula befriends Lark, a doctor gathering rare ingredients to cure Filigree, and Abyss, a dark priest. Chaos ensues.

Folktale:

(The rumor that the public says)

There once were two twins, one a shadowy trickster named Nebula. Out of greed for the legendary golden apples, he tricked his brother and a brave knight into killing the dragon that guarded them, taking all the apples for himself. After killing the other two, he attempted to flee the scene before being caught by the guards and executed. Because of all the dark magic, though, he transformed into a beast instead of dying and murdered the King, Captain, and anyone near before escaping into the woods. He now lurks in the shadows, devouring any human or monster that strays too far into the forest.

Characters:

Quasar:

Pronouns: he/they/it

Height: 5’6” (pre apples)/8’3” (post apples)

- He just wants everyone to be happy.

- Works for Prince Aster as a Court Jester and advisor

- Feeds off and senses positive emotions

- Has the habit of kidnapping sad people and keeping them in the castle gardens until he releases them

- The ribbons are prehensile and can grab stuff

- Very jingly whenever they move

- Physically cannot close eyes or stop smiling (unless EXTREMELY upset)

Nebula:

Pronouns: he/they

Height: 5’2” (pre apples)/5’5” (post apples)/7’4” (beast)

- Very grumpy 24/7, hates most people (but not as much as he hates themself)

- Feeds off & senses negative emotions

- The corrupted magic from the apples is concentrated in his right eye and very sensitive to light, so covering it helps him stay calm & Magic explodes from there when startled or upset

- Constantly on the run from Royal Guards and moves from place to place constantly, acting as basically a vigilante

- Physically unable to lie

- Shadows & tendrils can take on any shape & randomly sprout eyes, can also access a hammer space storage that drains the magic of whatever’s inside it

- His head’s still not fully reattached so he keeps it secure with a little bandana

Filigree:

Pronouns: he/him

Height: 6’9”

- Became Captain of the Royal Guard after the previous one’s disappearance

- Wants to capture Nebula on the desperate hope that he knows the cure (also he’s pissed at getting tricked)

- Scales continue to spread, in addition to being itchy they represent the dragon’s soul overpowering his body, give him episodes of irrational anger and animal instincts

- Is actually a silly fella who really just wants to help people, he doesn’t deserve this :(

- He doesn’t realize that Quasar is Nebula’s brother- nobody really does except Aster

- Best friends with Lark, the plague doctor

Abyss:

Pronouns: he/it

Height: 6’8”

- Alchemist and Priest of the Dark God

- Chaotic little shit

- Wanted by both the Royal Guard and the Cult of the Dark God for using ancient black magic to make his cat immortal

- Was captured by Royal Guards and freed by Nebula, feels like it owes him a debt

Lark:

Pronouns: they/it

Height: 5’2”

- Plague doctor

- Just a little guy

- From far outside the kingdom, came here to study & befriended Filigree (the only person actually nice to it)

- Wants to cure Filigree, but most ingredients of the cure are rare, illegal, or expensive since so they have to use unconventional means

(Prince) Aster:

Pronouns: he/they/it

Height: 4’0”

- Son of the missing King

- The Kingdom used to follow the Dark God, but a ritual involving the fallen human ended in the human’s death and Aster losing the majority of their soul. Following the Dark God was outlawed and Aster ran away to train as a Royal Guard, only returning after the King went missing and the Queen ran away.

- Drains the color out of things they are around for too long

Chips & Mocha:

Pronouns: he/they (Mocha), she/her (Chips)

Height (Mocha): 6’6”

- Ranger of the woods

- Takes care of Chips (Abyss’ immortal cat) while Abyss is on the run

- Runs a cafe with Fen

Fen:

Pronouns: he/they

Height: 5’5”

- color sans but his bones exploded

- just a guy

- Runs a cafe with Mocha

Castor:

Pronouns: he/they

Height: 4’3”

- Force of chaos

[calcifiedunderland]

please do a oneshot using 7 + 14 from the promts. Angst/comfort with yuu or the reader and one of the mer trio✨

💌 Request received! Thank you for your message, your order is ready~

Okay so this isn’t super angsty, I hope that’s ok 😭 I got carried away while writing this. I went with all three of them instead of picking one. Hope you enjoyyy ♥️

Octotrio, ft. Trench & Deep Sea Gigantism

You supposed this could be a fools errand.

You’d heard whispers that, deep in the trenches of the Coral Sea, there was a cunning sea witch who granted wishes. You’d hoped he could help you find your way home, back to your world. And you heard there was nothing he, or his two assistants, couldn’t do. With that, you drank your underwater breathing potion in one go, leaping into the ocean.

You gasped, taking in the glittering, colorful beauty of Atlantica before you. Merfolk swam through the ‘streets.’ As much as you wanted to stay and meet merfolk though, you had a mission. You clutched your bag and started swimming.

You swam until you reached the trench. You peered over the edge. You couldn’t see the bottom, and you felt a lump in your throat. You had to press on. You’d made up your mind to swim into the darkness when a smooth voice made you go rigid.

“Ah~ a human? How strange.”

You flinched to see two glowing eyes in the darkness, that only seemed to get bigger as the creature approached. You were startled to see that it wasn’t one creature, but two. You clutched your bag to your chest, eyes wide as the two mermen slinked closer to you.

You studied each other. The two of them were identical eelmers. You hadn’t seen any merfolk like them. The adventurer side of you was fascinated. “H-hello,” you said cautiously. “I’m looking for… for the sea witch.”

Their smiles grew, and they swam closer to you. One loomed behind you, while the other looked at you with keen interest. “And what could bring a human to the Coral Sea, hmm?” he mused as the other wrapped his tail around one of your legs. You swallowed, maintaining eye contact. “My business is with the sea witch and myself.”

The one behind you barked in laughter, “Azul’s gonna have a riot with this one!” The one in front grinned widely, hand to his mouth, “I agree.” He nodded to you, “We will take you to the sea witch. Come along, human.”

You yelped as the one behind you swooshed past, turning back to look at you. “Heh, the way you keep shrinkin’ up makes you look like a shrimp,” he grinned, before swimming back to you. “Y’know, I’ve been wanting to squeeze something all day!” He grabbed you in his arms, and nosedived straight down into the trench behind his twin.

Your scream was lost in a flurry of bubbles, but soon he stopped. You peeked, and gasped. “This is where the sea witch lives?!” The lair was a massive skeleton with coral and other decaying bits still clinging to the bones. The other twin in front of you hummed, looking rather amused at your fear, “yes, it is. Not having second thoughts, are you?” You shook your head.

The twin holding you squeezed you tighter, swimming into the lair. You passed little floating polyps that looked up at you mournfully, and yelped when they tried to grab your toes. He laughed “I’m gonna call you Shrimpy now~” You opened your mouth to retort, when something from the darkness called out. “Oh? A visitor...”

The darkness seemed to curl and move toward you - wait, no, you realized. It wasn’t darkness, it was tentacles. They unraveled and came into the light from the decayed ceiling, and you locked eyes with a blue-eyed octomer.

“Floyd, please let my client go.” The one holding you - Floyd, you guessed - perched you on a rock, patting your head, grinning with his twin. “This one’s all you, Shrimpy~”

The octomer sat behind a desk, watching you intently. His blue eyes and silver hair seemed to glow, and he smiled charismatically. “I am who they call the sea witch, Azul Ashengrotto at your service. My associates are Jade,” the sly twin smiled pleasantly at you, “and Floyd,” the squeeze-y twin grinned sharply. Azul continued, “Now, how may I help a poor and unfortunate soul such as yourself?”

You took a deep breath. You explained everything - how you’d fallen into this world, your confusion, and your wish to go home. Azul listened, tentacles slithering over your legs. “Well, now this is quite the predicament,” he said sympathetically, leaning closer to you. “Well, my dear, I’m sure we can do something for you.” With a flourish, a golden contract and fishbone pen materialized in front of your eyes.

Azul put a hand on his chest, other waving in the water, “I am the renowned sea witch after all! No miracle is beyond my grasp, but I am a very busy man. And, as generous as I am,” he was face to face with you now, and you saw Jade and Floyd swim behind him with their golden eyes staring at you. “We will need to discuss the subject of payment, after all.” He was close to you now, blue eyes practically hypnotizing. “Perhaps I can take… oh I don’t know, your voice-”

“I brought stuff!” you cut him off, eager. “Human stuff!” Azul frowned, “but- but I think more fitting payment is- oh!” You hurriedly looked down into your bag, knocking foreheads with Azul as you started digging into the rucksack. “Agh- ouch…” he muttered. You heard snickering, but you ignored it.

You mumbling as you pulled out some things to find the treasures. Your mushrooms you were saving for a snack for later floated in the water, as did some change coins. “Aha! Here!” You presented some golden jewelry and goblets to them that Kalim had cheerfully given to you as a gift. You reasoned they’d be more useful as payment. “Will this be enough?”

Azul eyed the gold trinkets with disinterest. Truthfully, he didn’t have too much use for more golden goblets, since you couldn’t really drink under the ocean, and neither he nor the twins cared to wear jewelry that could inhibit swimming. He did, however, seem very interested in your coin pouch. He grabbed it gingerly with a tentacle, but you saw through his attempts to look nonchalant. His eyes gleamed at the coins, and you also noticed Jade touch the mushrooms with shining eyes.

“I will accept this instead,” Azul cleared his throat, focused on the coins. Jade hummed, looking at your mushrooms with adoration, “Yes, this shall suffice nicely.” You frowned in confusion, before accepting it. Hey, now you could maybe pawn the jewelry and goblets off.

“So… is that decent payment?” Azul’s face had a lavender blush, and he nodded, clutching the coins. “Yes, this will be sufficient for my collection- I mean, as payment.” Jade nodded, holding his mushrooms close to his chest.

Jade looked over at his twin, “and you, Floyd?” The eelmer looked serious for once. “I want squeezing rights.” You blanked, then shrugged. “Sure?” Floyd cheered and you were knocked over in a tight hug. You cried out, tapping Floyd’s sides, “air! Air!”

As Floyd laughed and hugged you, Jade stared at the mushrooms with adoration, and Azul looked between you and the coins, you had a feeling that this deal would be memorable, for better or worse.

Thank you for your request!!! Until next time, xoxo Calci~

[gnomewithalaptop]

Thinking about timcassie post Conner's death again

Teen Titans Vol. 3 #34 | The Skeleton Twins, dir. Craig Johnson | Dark Crisis: Young Justice #6 | Lighthousekeeping by Jeanette Winterson | Teen Titans Vol. 3 #35 | These Violent Delights by Micah Nemerever | Teen Titans Vol. 3 #35 | Jamie Anderson | Infinite Crisis #6 | Infinite Crisis #7 | Thomm Quackenbush | Teen Titans Vol. 3 #55

ID under cut

[Begin ID. The entire collection of images is a webweaving for the TimCassie ship from DC comics.

Image 1: A comic panel from Teen Titans (2003). Cassie Sandsmark (Wonder Girl) glares at Tim Drake (Robin), who is out of frame. "What did you do after Superboy died?" she asks.

Image 2: A screenshot of a movie transcript. Text reads: "Three other men. I wasn't in love with any of them."

Image 3: Two comic panels from Dark Crisis: Young Justice. In the first, Tim and Cassie kiss while crying. Tim's narration box reads: "...I'm sorry." In the second panel, Cassie cries in a graveyard, Tim's retreating silhouette visible in the distance. Tim's narration box continues: "For how you and I... after Conner died."

Image 4: Screenshotted quote. Text reads: "This is not a love story, but love is in it."

Image 5: Two comic panels from Teen Titans (2003), set in Tim's underground cloning lab. In the first, Tim looks up at Cassie, having fallen to his knees. A single tear escaping his mask, he says: "I miss him so much." In the second panel, Cassie kneels down in front of him and takes his hands.

Image 6: Screenshotted quote. Text reads: "It wasn't about anything so shallow as physical desire. They wanted each other in the way of flesh wanting to knit itself over a wound."

Image 7: Three more comic panels from the same Teen Titans issue as before. In the first, Cassie has begun to cry as well. She says, "I do too." In the second panel, Tim and Cassie both lean closer to each other, still crying. The third panel is an extreme closeup of their lips, inches apart. Still, the tears are visible.

Image 8: Screenshotted quote. Text reads: "It's all the love you want to give but cannot. All of that unspent love gathers in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go."

Images 9 and 10: Two cropped comic panels of Cassie and Tim kneeling on the battlefield, hunched over Conner Kent's body. Their poses mirror each other eerily.

Image 11: Screenshotted quote by Thomm Quackenbush. Quote reads: "There is no harm in being used. We all use one another daily. But were you misused by me? I can think of no one alive who could have performed better under the demands of your fate."

Image 12: Two comic panels from the Teen Titans issue where they break up. In the first panel, Tim stares out the window, looking melancholy. In the second, we zoom out to see that he is watching as Cassie flies away, her bag in hand.

End ID.]

[sunny374940]

Fic masterpost

Hello, I'm sunny. I write fanfic for Dragon Age: The Veilguard, Arcane, and also original stories. There's fluff, angst and convoluted plots. And the occasional smut.

This here is a list of all my stories so far, for anyone who wants to read them. I love chatting with people in the comments, if you feel so inclined <3

My ao3 is Sunny_Under_Mountain

Here's a Q&A about my darling Rook for anyone interested. And here's a vibe moodboard for him, because it's pretty. And OC wardrobe. I'm just playing dolls with him at this point.

The latest stories are up here, the rest (and boy, is there a lot) under the cut.

Skeletons can have sisters too (ch.5/?) - a collection of drabbles from Manfred's POV, centering on his interactions (and inevitable shenanigans) with his little sister Ellie.

Shadows Falling (ch.11/?) - I got another original story going!

Ciaran is a thief on the run. He disobeyed orders and now he will have to pay the price, one that haunts his nightmares. Rhys is a mage, trying to save his sister. And catching a thief and bringing him to his employers might help him get her back. But it probably won't be that simple. And feelings will begin rearing their heads, ones that neither of the men expected.

Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Multi-chapter works:

Alone with you (chapter 4/?) - Emmrich and Rook leave for their honeymoon and have a nice time. There are flowers and sex, and swimming lessons and wildlife encounters and who knows what else future holds

May I have this dance (chapters 2/2) - Emmrich and Rook attend a ball and Rook hates it. Until he doesn't. cw: short mention of sexual harrasment, lots of consensual gay sex in the second chapter

I will be waiting with open arms (chapters 3/3) - Emmrich dies at the age of ninety seven and Rook, who is seventy two now, receives one last letter from his love and then they get reunited in the afterlife (bring your tissues to read this one)

Did you hit your head? (chapters 2/2) - a fun little story about Rook and Emmrich pining and Davrin and Assan being the best wingmen

Love and (almost) loss (series):

Our love is not to be hidden - Rook gets badly injured and Emmrich has to deal with his feelings for him

I fall apart without you - Emmrich has a nightmare about losing Rook, hurt/comfort

I will stay with you through all of this - hurt/comfort, little bit of gore at the start. Emmrich almost dies in the process of saving Rook, who is quite upset about this.

Happiness is a noise you make (series):

The sound of your happiness warms my heart - fluff. Emmrich finds out Rook can purr.

Let me hear your joy again - fluff. Rook receives a gift from Emmrich

The family we've found (series): stories about Emmrich and Rook raising their daughter Elanora

Orphans and foundlings - a little story about Rook and Emmrich getting a baby. Fluff, tiny bit of angst

You are safe with me - babywearing Emmrich. Just pure self-indulgent fluff

Any questions? - Emmrich takes baby Elanora with him to be a guest lecturer in one of his lessons (fluff)

I missed you, little brother - Rook has a twin sister, Willow, and here she meets the little family for the first time.

Sleepless nights - Emmrich and Rook comfort a crying baby

Being a father - Emmrich worries about fatherhood, fluff and angst

When I see your light shine, I know I'm home - fluff. Emmrich and Rook get married, the whole gang is here and it's so very sappy

I will teach you all I know - fluff. Emmrich learns that his daughter Elanora is a mage

Coming home - Emmrich returns home after a week away and his family have a surprise for him! Featuring Nevarran hazelnut torte and a sentimental necromancer.

Safe in my arms - Emmrich sings his and Rook's daughter to sleep. That's it, that's the fic. It's very sweet.

Your happiness is all I need - fluff, humor. Emmrich’s daughter is not a morning person, Emmrich has to deal

Have you learned your lesson, darlings? - fluff. Emmrich enjoys the snow with his family. There is a snowball fight.

Love is enough (series): here we follow Rook and Emmrich during the events of Fade Prison and afterwards. There's a lot of hurt and also a lot of comfort.

Nothing will keep you from me - saving Rook from the Fade prison

Don't leave me, please - what Rook was going through in the Fade prison (a lot)

May I kiss you? - Rook is not doing well in the aftermath of Fade Prison and Emmrich wants so badly to help him, but he keeps getting pushed away (angst with happy ending)

I have my moments, darling - Emmrich gets revenge at Solas for hurting Rook in the Fade Prison. It's glorious.

The smut (not a series):

Tell me I'm yours - Rook has a praise kink

Let me take care of you - a little bondage, some feelings. Rook is angry and tries to pick a fight with Emmrich

There is nothing I want more than you - Rook wants Emmrich's attention and he gets it

Is that a new shirt? - Rook wears a crop top and Emmrich is very much into it

Patience, darling - Emmrich makes Rook wait for what he wants.

Why don't we try something new? - Rook wants to try topping Emmrich for the first time and it goes quite well

I would like to make you blush, if I may - Rook is a bit inexperienced and flustered at just about everything. A blowjob happens

Let me show you how beautiful you are - Emmrich is insecure about his looks and Rook shows him how much he adores him.

The hurt/comfort (also not a series):

Don't do that again - Emmrich gets sick, Rook gets worried

You are worth any danger, love - Emmrich gets caught in a building collapse and almost dies, Rook comes to his aid.

Feeling better, darling? - Emmrich helps Rook through a migraine

I will rip the world apart for you - cw: gore, torture. Rook gets captured by the Venatori and Emmrich comes to the rescue

Assorted fluff:

Adventures in baking - Rook wants to impress Emmrich by baking him cookies, but things don't go according to plan

I am yours - Rook gives Emmrich flowers.

Love is stored in the hat - domestic fluff about first snow and gifts

Damn Sky Whales universe:

Damn Sky Whales (ch.14/14) - (modern fantasy, romance, adventure) The story follows the romance of Fern and Gareth. Fern is a half-elven researcher in the field of thaumology, who is trying to figure out why dragons started disappearing. He gets assigned a bodyguard, whom he doesn't at all need. Nor want. Until he finds himself wanting him. Gareth is a former mercenary turned bodyguard, who is very much a professional and is not going to fall for his client. And what starts as simple research into dragons turns into something much bigger than either of them expected.

A Unicorn's Children - set in the Damn Sky Whales world, the chronicles of Pointy the Unicorn

An interesting side effect - Fern gets his hands on energy drinks. They seem to affect his magic in quite fun ways.

A second crib - Fern and Gareth want to adopt a child. They end up with a bit more than they bargained for, but they're happy all the same.

Shadows Falling

Shadows Falling (ch.11/?) - Ciaran is a thief on the run. He disobeyed orders and now he will have to pay the price, one that haunts his nightmares. Rhys is a mage, trying to save his sister. And catching a thief and bringing him to his employers might help him get her back. But it probably won't be that simple. And feelings will begin rearing their heads, ones that neither of the men expected.

Arcane

A light in darkness - What happened to Jayce and Viktor after they disappeared at the end of the series? Something good for a change, because they deserve it.

[merakiui]

perverse phantasmagoria: a tentacular theatre for the timid.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, somnophilia, mentions of death/murder, obsession note - something short to satisfy the craving for shadow monster azul.

The monster under your bed is a marvelous magician.

Most marvelous indeed—for he can ensorcell with all manner of fantastical tricks! In flickering candlelight, shapes shift in shadow—a rabbit hopping to and fro or a bird taking flight in a flurry of feathers. A ship sinking in a sinister sea or a worm wriggling through soil. Illusions waltz upon your wall in a graceful ballet, a comforting distraction meant to soothe you to sleep when you grow somnolent.

You are the only one to witness the magnificence of this tentacular theatre. It is confined within the cubic space that is your bedroom, a nightly display projected onto the walls and ceiling, just beyond the curtains of your creaky four-poster bed. He entertains until you’re properly heavy-eyed, slipping through the slivers of reality into fruitful slumber.

While cradled in a sea of sheets, buoyed by curious, curling limbs, you dream of devilish pleasures—of treacherous temptations so visceral they would certainly scandalize the sisters at the church.

The monster under your bed never utters a word, but you know he is there.

He is cold and calm like Death, yet merciful and mystical like an angel. He carries with him odors of the ocean, enveloping you in his briny embrace every night. Tentacles loop gently around your body, sliding beneath silken nightwear, and he plays in the same skillful way he manipulates shadow. You’re strung along the highs and lows of bodily bliss, rocked gently by a creature who dwells in the darkness.

The monster under your bed does not possess a true form, but he holds bright shallows in his eyes.

Shapeless and transient, wavering through dozens of features, he mesmerizes with his stunning hues. They blink at you in the darkness, twin beacons set into a towering lighthouse. You reach for him, pushing past pitch-black phantasmagoria, and beg to see his face. He swallows all light sources, so you will never truly know if there is anything more to those beautiful blues.

The monster under your bed does not have a name, so you call him Azul. Much like his eyes when they pin you to the bed, the name sticks.

A terrible tempest rages outside, rattling the windows in their frames, battering the glass like bullets, and howling through the trees in a most fearsome gale. You lie in your bed, wide-awake and disturbed, and gaze at the canopy. Lightning cracks across the sky in a violent arc, brightening your room for a single second. The thunder follows, rumbling in deep, foreboding notes. With a shiver, you pull your duvet up to your chin. Fear is encroaching. You steel yourself, steady your pounding heart, and inhale sharply.

The monster under your bed is gentle.

He has never hurt you and you suspect he never will. But he is vindictive, a dangerous force who lurks in forgotten corridors and corners during the day. Though he remains out of light’s reach, avoiding the sun’s fingers as they spill in from windows with parted curtains, nothing escapes his glance. He is always watching. You can feel it.

The monster under your bed is brilliant pest control.

He rids the manor of rats and insects alike, swabs the ceilings of cobwebs. He feasts on venomous spiders and snakes, blood drained from carcasses small and large. Trespassers wander far enough to find themselves tangled in the tendrils of a beast. Skeletons snap and shatter in his grasp, so startlingly fast and brutal. There isn’t a scream. No tears. He does not grant them the permission to confess last words.

Flesh rots away, stripped clean from the bone. There is no distinction to be made here. Suitors are trespassers. Thieves are trespassers. Trespassers are trespassers, and they will die as such.

The monster under your bed has a sweet tooth, a discovery you’ve only recently determined. You plate pastries and slide them under your bed, and the porcelain china is returned by morning, licked clean of crumbs.

For all of his mysterious qualities, the monster under your bed is your paramour.

“Azul,” you whisper, your voice much louder in disconcerting quiet. “Are you there, Azul?”

Shadows slither up the expanse of your mattress, crawling over wrinkled linens, to meet you in the gloom. The tip of a tentacle nudges your cheek. The monster—your monster—is here.

“A detective came by today…” Blue meets you in the dark, snapped open at once. “To inquire about a select few.”

He blinks, offering silence as his stubborn reply.

“Missing lords and ladies. They say my manor is cursed and that it is these very disappearances that keep the grounds so lush. An immature accusation.” You search the shadows for a response. “You mustn’t send them to their graves, Azul.”

Another tentacle peels the duvet back to find your hand. It fits into your palm, wrapped tight like a bow on a present. Slowly and slyly, more appendages rise from the space beneath your bed to coil around your person. They massage soothing circles into your skin, exploring eagerly and peppering your flesh in frigid kisses. The effect is soporific. You slacken against the sheets, eyes fluttering shut.

“Mmh… Azul, I’m quite serious…” You close your hand around the tentacle. “You mustn’t—oh!” Your legs are yanked apart then, and a thick tentacle presses up between your thighs. You peer into his narrowed eyes. If you could see his mouth, you’re certain it’d be turned down in a petulant pout. “Won’t you listen to me?”

The tentacles curled around your thighs constrict. He teases your special spot, fine-tuning your body to sing the sweetest of songs. Two more attach to your chest like lecherous leeches, tweaking your nipples under soft suckers. You sigh, pent-up emotions unfurling from their ravel. Lightning flashes again, the rain insistent, and so he drapes a tentacle over your eyes.

“There’s no need to do that.” You run your fingers over it, but you don’t pull it off. “I want to see you. I want to hear your voice. Tell me—” you whine in relief when he pushes in, your anatomy accustomed to his size after months of midnight whimsy— “Let me… Oh, won’t you speak to me, Azul? Tell me—promise me you won’t act so callous the next time I welcome visitors.”

“Intruders,” he finally answers. Despite the malice shot through those three syllables, it is a musical intonation. His voice is deep and dulcet, tickling your ears in the best way.

“You’re being rather unfair in your narrow-minded assessment.”

“And you are not narrow-minded enough,” comes his rumbling reply, synced flawlessly with the thunder just outside. “I shall protect you and this property for as long as I continue to exist. That is my priority.”

Your lips part in a retort, but all that comes out is a shuddering sigh.

“Visitors are not villains,” you manage after you’ve found your voice. “P-Please—aah—be kind… You mustn’t hurt them. They’re—haa—only visitors. I promise you I’m safe.”

“Visitors are the same as intruders. They’re unwanted. Unnecessary. Nuisances. Pests.”

Azul rocks the tentacle deeper inside you. Your nails dig into the one in your hand, and you heave a wobbly sort of groan.

“I won’t arg—ooh—won’t argue with you. I only ask that you understand. They are not dangers.”

“They are,” he snaps, pistoning roughly. You cry out when he pierces a specific spot nestled within. “They will take you away from me. Poison your head with foolish ideas. Destroy our home…”

“T-That will never happen. Not if I can help it.”

Another beat of lightning. Thunder follows suit. Gingerly, he lifts the tentacle veiling your visage. Blue blinks back at you.

“Promise.”

His whisper is broken and sad. Strangely, your heart aches.

“Only if you promise to cease your slaughter. It’s not—” A tentacle presses against your mouth, silencing you. When it draws away to give you another chance, you sigh, knowing just what to say. “Thank you…for protecting me, Azul.”

Satisfied with your submission, he smooths his pace out into slow, sensual lovemaking. You ride the waves of mutual merriment alongside him, no longer fearing the raging storm beyond your room. The world shrinks down to fit inside your bedroom, where paradise is found in the sheets, and nothing else matters here. Swathed safely in shadow, wrapped around the monster under your bed, you drift off into sleepy delirium.

He remains, ever-present like a parasite, the sole actor standing on the stage in this thrilling, tentacular theatre.

[loverstrings]

A warm night in Wakanda - Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

At the end credits of Civil War, where Bucky gets offered rehabilitation in Wakanda. Y/N decides to tag along—not just to keep Steve company, but out of curiosity about Wakandan culture… and maybe a little curiosity about Bucky, too. She never realized peace like this could exist for people like her and Bucky.

a.n - I PROMISE IM ALIVE!!! I've been packed with work and my summer classes atm so project spindle updates will be a little slow this week, so take this little drabble :3

| can be read as a standalone or apart of project spindle |

The sun was setting, a wash of gold spilling across the treetops as silence settled over the outer edges of the compound. The air buzzed faintly with the hum of distant tech and the rustle of leaves stirred by the breeze—but down by the water, it was quiet.

Y/N sat cross-legged on a flat rock, tracing a smooth stone across her knuckles like a nervous habit. She didn’t look up when she heard footsteps behind her—didn’t need to.

“You’re late,” she said, voice soft but teasing.

“Sorry,” Steve replied, stepping up beside her. “He wanted some air. They’re still getting everything ready.”

Y/N finally glanced over—and there he was.

Bucky Barnes.

The infamous Winter Soldier. The ghost in the machine. Steve’s best friend.

And, for a long time, just a name in a classified file. One she’d seen back when she was still running missions for Strucker. Before Sokovia. Before Wanda and Pietro had thrown in with Ultron. They’d tried to find her back then. The twins had come looking, eyes wide with fury, asking why she wasn’t standing with them.

But Y/N had already made her decision. “I’m done,” she’d told them.

And when that wasn’t enough, when she saw the betrayal starting to bloom behind Wanda’s eyes, she’d used her power—just once more. A swirl of nightmare-fog, soft as sleep, sharp as sorrow. By the time it cleared, they’d forgotten she was ever there.

Steve found her months. Hiding in the skeleton of a crumbling outpost, eating canned beans cold. He offered her a blanket, and a second chance.

They’d fought side-by-side ever since.

Now, she saw the man who’d nearly torn the world in half—haunted and cautious as he lingered behind Steve, arms crossed, body still like a coiled spring. But his eyes weren’t cold. They were… tired.

“Hey,” she said simply, nodding once.

Bucky didn’t speak right away. He just looked at her, brow slightly furrowed, like he was trying to place her.

“You’re the one with the pink magic,” he said at last.

She smirked. “You’re the one with the metal arm.” A flicker of guilt tugged at her smile. “I mean—were. Sorry.”

Then, like a flicker of something long dormant, Bucky’s lips twitched—just barely. “It’s fine. I’ll grow a new one.”

Steve stepped away without a word, letting the moment settle between them.

Y/N patted the stone beside her. “You can sit. I won’t bite.”

Bucky hesitated… then slowly lowered himself beside her, posture stiff.

The silence felt loud, so Y/N leaned back on her hands, tipping her head toward the sky. “Y’know, when I first got pulled into all this… I don’t really remember much. Just… pieces. Flashes. I knew I was being used, but I didn’t know how to stop it. Didn’t know how to live without someone barking orders at me.”

Bucky let out a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”

She turned her head to watch him. “Steve ever tell you how he found me?”

“He said you left Strucker before things fell apart. That he and Nat tracked you down. Gave you a shot.”

Y/N nodded. “I wasn’t ready to be saved. Thought the only way to stop hurting people was to disappear. Steve didn’t buy it. Kept showing up, talking like I was more than what I’d done.” Her voice softened. “Eventually, I started believing him.”

Bucky looked down at the running water. “Guess he’s doing the same for me.”

“Shows he has a type.”

That earned a quiet huff of laughter.

The silence stretched again—this time, easier. The kind that says I see you, without needing to explain it.

“You stayed with Steve during the airport fight,” Bucky said, his voice low.

“Course I did,” she said, tossing the stone into the river. “He gave me a second chance. Figured I’d return the favor.”

He looked back at the water.

They sat like that for a long while. No grand speeches. No apologies. Just quiet understanding.

The sun dipped below the horizon. The first stars appeared.

And for the first time in a long, long while, Bucky didn’t feel like a weapon.

He felt… almost human. And sitting next to Y/N, he wasn’t so sure that was a bad thing.

[velnoni]

Jesus, I LOVE how you interpret ford. Can NOT emphasize how much I enjoyed reading ur hcs for demi!ford! (and then I also have a much more personal appreciation as someone who’s prob demi. so, I’m excitedly shaking your shoulders a little.)

So how would things progress romantically for demi!Ford and reader, building off ur last set of hcs??

It's so nice to hear this, honestly 💓 and ofc, I'm glad you can enjoy these hcs on a deeper level! This ask is also gonna be a long one so buckle up.

Ford x Reader Romance Headcanons

Link to previous headcanon mentioned in ask

As mentioned in the last post, the two of you would consider a romantic relationship after Ford finished traveling with his brother. Something like traveling the world for anomalies would definitely take a minimum of a year to be frank. And you genuinely missed the guy. You missed the way he fixed his glasses (why doesn't he get a new pair?), the sassiness that came with him debuking theories, and his deep voice. Work wasn't the same without him.

Seeing postcards of him and Stanley always made you happy. And sometimes you would trace his clean penmanship in the letters he would mail to you. There would be days when you would receive multiple pages consisting of findings, personal life, and so forth. And you'd do your best by updating him about the Mystery Shack, your job & your own life in return. Because it was mail, there would be delays in the messages, but nothing neither of you could handle.

As time passed, the letters continued to pile in your drawer. You couldn't help but wonder if Ford and his brother would make it home safe. How does puncing an octopus in the eye even save the day? Those twins were such rascals, you swear.

Sometimes, you will dry out flowers and spray them with a light fragrance before mailing the letters away. Flower language is a wonderful thing, and on a particular night, you placed a chrysanthemum in the mail for the twins' safety. You were sure Ford would understand immediately.

The next letter you got back had a hydrangea. At some point as the days grew longer, you'd recognize your feelings towards Ford, especially after Mabel learned one summer you were the pen pal Ford spoke so fondly of.

When the brother touched back to land, you didn't find out until a couple of days after, both twins greeting you after work. You were incredibly excited over their return, noticing the differences in their behavior and how happy they both looked. The sea did them well, especially Ford. If your eyes lingered on him for a second longer, he didn't notice, but Stan will.

When Stan retires to bed, he shoots you two a wink, you being perplexed and Ford grumbling from his chest at his brother's implications. With the two of you alone, it reminded you both of when y'all started hanging outside of work. The night consisted of jokes, bantering, stories, and one too many cans of soda.

"May I be frank with you for a moment?" he asked. You turned your head in his direction and nodded, "What is it?" Ford would look away for a moment and then clasp his hands together, playing with his fingers, a tick of his when nervous. "S-Stan had told me recently you seemed interested in me. Ahem, well, allow me to elaborate. Romantically. Typically, I don't listen to Stan's gibberish, but he pointed out some discrepancies in your behavior." You made a small show of it by looking at Ford brown eyes and the way his peppered eyebrow creased in presumed concern. Leave to Stan to catch you red-handed. You reach out for an open bottle of soda and sip on the lukewarm contents. Ford was kind enough to be frank with you, and you appreciated that, a pro from a man of science.

"Yeah well...he's not exactly wrong." You swish the soda around in the can, wishing the sloshing sound could be more distracting than Ford's lips parting in surprise. "I genuinely do like you. You're a good man and company, Stanford. Got a few skeletons in the closet, but who doesn't? You're kind, enthusiastic about your work, and you're doing your hardest to move on. It's so easy to speak to you, and I really enjoyed your letters. It made life more bearable, y'know? And yes, I also see you as cute, but that's beside the point."

You glance at Ford, noticing how the tips of his ear were beet red and gave a tiny smile of reassurance. "Look, I wasn't planning on telling you at all. If this makes you feel uncomfortable, I can—" your cut off mid sentence when the older twin raised his hand to stop you.

"I'm sorry, I—" he coughs a bit and stares at you, clearly ready to speak. You prepare yourself to be let down gently. "I...I also feel this way towards you as well." You could hear the anxiousness in his voice and see how his lips turned down.

He would continue to confess about how you were someone he didn't want to let go of. But that even though he was confident enough that he had romantic interest, he was unsure how to go about it or if he wanted to tap into the potential of such a thing. It's been so long...

You reassure him he doesn't have to do anything and that you're happy he would be so open about it towards you. You can't help but chuckle at the irony of it all— the both of you felt like teenagers. He questions you about relationships, your experience, expectations, and so forth, and you answer to the best of your ability.

In the end, you two decided to give it a go. For Ford, he would like to go slow with the dating process, preferring outings that didn't require much physical contact. This could consist of book dates, picnics, movie marathons, dinner, etc.

For the most part, this worked great, Ford is very calculating even while dating, but you hope he'll be more comfortable eventually. It would be months until Ford kisses your cheek, and if it weren't for the scratchiness of his stubble, you wouldn't have noticed. It happened after watching a movie, and you returned the kiss. Ford will shyly cup his large hand into yours.

Ford at first will overthink everything in the beginning of the relationship, wondering if he's competent enough for you or if he's asking for too much. You reassure him that's not the case but sometimes he'll worry.

He's a superstitious man at heart and would prefer for your relationship to be quiet but not out of embarrassment. Half a year will pass before he would be okay enough to cuddle with you in a bed (clothes on). The most you two would do is give small kisses and tight hugs that led into the best naps.

He's an old man, he's bringing flowers when he picks you up for date night because it's classy and he enjoys the smile on your face when you smell them. Sometimes, he will offer you a ride home as well.

Please don't play Mario Kart with him...

He likes when you give him back massages (sweater on) and will gladly return the gesture.

Arguing with him is a nightmare, though. Man is stubborn as an ox and will not listen until you both properly calmed. And even then, he has his pride to uphold—something that has to run in the Pines family. Try to bribe him with hot chocolate if there needs to be a sit down.

Are sexual encounters on the table? Yes but he'd appreciate a discussion about it and if he even feels comfy enough to do so at the moment. He's trying his best to be more open minded and honest, you're his safe place. He's the type of guy to schedule sexual intimacy and no I'm not joking, he's a stickler for time. You don't know whether to be flabbergasted or amused. Probably both.

All in all, expect a simple and healthy relationship with Ford. He's learning just like you are.

Thank you for the ask! Please like and reblog, I'd greatly appreciate it.

[mikimakiboo]

The Favorite Uncle

I know I'm supposed to work on both the Bitty fic and the next Time Travelers chapter but shhhhht I wanted to write some Dream x Killer first because I just noticed I never wrote about it so I had to fix that

This a sort of part two to A Second Chance ! Featuring Driller ( Dream x Killer ship ), I say sort of because it's more of a short story taking place after the events than a real follow up, but anyway !

Short summary: Dream and Killer are competing with each other to be Moroz's favorite uncle, it ends up in a very close tie

Tw: suggestive but nothing too explicit or nsfw

Killer was on the couch, watching the little kid play with some wooden construction blocks on the coffee table in front of him. Moroz, Nightmare and Error's kid, he had turned five years old a few months ago, who would have thought the two most dangerous skeletons in the multiverse would have such an angel of a son together ? Killer really liked this kid, they all did, and he very much wanted his little nephew - because they all considered themselves his uncles - to like him too. He wanted to be somewhat special to him, he didn't know if it was because it was the first time in years that a child wasn't afraid of him, or because it was his boss's - his friend's - kid, or even because it was something new again, something new but not destructive, something new that wouldn't keep him up at night with his soul aching with guilt, the only thing he was sure of was that he loved this kid so much.

But there was an obstacle: Dream. Him and Nightmare had made peace when he was still pregnant, and Dream really did his best to improve himself and gain his brother's trust again, Killer had to admit he came from far but did great progress. But, he was Moroz's biological uncle, often came to visit them, and never arrived without a gift for either the child or his brother. Killer knew it was stupid of him to feel irritated by that, after all Nightmare was more than happy to have reconnected with his twin and Moroz was happy to see his uncle, but Killer had that hovering, displeasing, thought that Moroz might prefer his biological uncle over him. He kept repeating that he didn't have a favorite, he loved all of his five uncles the same, but Killer couldn't help but feel behind Dream. He knew who Dream was after all, he knew he could get anyone to love him if he wanted to, so what guaranteed him he wouldn't soon be the favorite uncle ? Killer couldn't stand that thought, even more when Dream gained the right to babysit three years ago and his anxiety doubled.

And so a rivalry began between them, a harmless one, that consisted mainly on spoiling their nephew more than the other would. It was a little war that they had been taking very seriously. No one got in the way, seeing how the two weren't hurting anyone, how Moroz was simply happy to spend time with them, and how they both seemed to slowly start to consider it as a game more than a fight, because upping each other was fun, but Killer soon started to make some well placed teases, to which Dream never hesitated to answer with more teasy remarks. Ironically, they started to know each other better with their rivalry, to lower their guard when around the other, they couldn't say they trusted each other, but there wasn't any animosity in their interactions anymore, they weren't scared to mess a little with the other from time to time.

Dream wasn't as insufferable as Killer first thought, but still, hearing his name so often in Moroz's mouth was rather annoying. Was he that special that the kid loved staying at his place so much ? What was Dream doing that he wasn't ? He didn't like the thought of missing something, not when it had to do with his nephew. He got up from the couch.

- Hey 'Roz, I'm gonna go pay a little visit to someone, you stay here and be good, kay ?

Moroz looked up at him, a red cube in his hand, and nodded before turning his attention back to his construction, putting the cube on top of a yellow one. If there was any problem, his other uncles weren't far and his parents were on the floor just above. Killer smiled at him before teleporting away.

He appeared in a small house, decorated in a way that made it look warm and welcoming, much different than the castle, even if the warmth improved with the arrival of the baby. Killer heard noise from the kitchen and went straight to it, knowing where it was as it wasn't the first time he came here. He sat at the table.

Dream was cleaning the counter of his kitchen, his dishes were drying on the side of the sink. He turned around to grab a dishcloth and almost dropped it when he jumped, surprised by the newcomer sitting at his table, staring at him with a sharp smile and empty sockets. Killer. Since when was he watching him ?

- Will you ever learn to knock before entering ?

Dream complained, turning to his counter to resume drying it. It wasn't the first time Killer intruded in his house, he often payed him visits, at first to warn him not to try anything against Nightmare or the baby, then to "make sure he wasn't plotting", and finally to annoy him as a past time activity.

- Why would I ? Scaring you is way funnier.

Killer replied, satisfied to have succeeded once again in surprising him.

- Why are you here ? Dream asked, ignoring the mockery.

- Can't I just pay you a visit because I missed you ? Killer joked again.

- As if you would ever miss me. Dream huffed.

Killer didn't reply right away, looking at the guardian taking the dishes one by one to dry them off with the cloth and pile them on the now clean counter.

- You're not special. He finally said.

- I'm sorry ? Dream turned, confused.

Killer didn't move, his head resting on his fist with his elbow on the table, he was still smiling, but Dream could tell he was irritated.

- I said you're not special.

- I heard you. Dream cut him. But I never said I was special.

Killer straightened his back.

- The kid seems to really like you. He keeps talking about the stuff you two do and how cool you are.

Dream arched a brow.

- And ? You've got a problem with him liking his uncle ? He asked as he resumed drying the dishes. Or maybe you're here for advice ?

Killer's smile twitched.

- I don't need your advice, Star Boy.

- Well you sound like you do, why would you be here then ?

Killer stood up, slamming a hand on the table.

- I do not need advice !

Dream put his cloth on the side, grabbing the plates to put them back in the cabinet.

- Really ? Then why are you here ? Are you scared he might like me more than you ?

Dream smiled, knowing what string to pull to get a reaction out of the murderer. It always worked.

- You think I'm scared ? I'm not scared, if anything you should be the one who's scared. Killer replied through gritted teeth.

Dream turned to look at him, a faint smile on his face. Killer hated that stupid smile, like he knew something but didn't want to say it. Dream had changed a lot since the truce with his brother, his behavior changed, and some new facets of his personality were showing. Being mischievous was one of them, and Killer couldn't decide if he hated or liked it, given that he always fell into his traps.

- Scared of what ?

- Scared of me.

Dream chuckled.

- I'm not scared of you. But I scare you.

Killer took a few steps closer as Dream put his back against his counter, crossing his arms as he looked at the taller skeleton, smiling.

- You do not scare me. You think you can intimidate me ? Please, I've fought you countless times, I know your weaknesses, you're no match for me.

Dream's smile only widened as Killer approached.

- Why are you smiling ? You think I would hold back just because you made peace with your brother ?

- I know you wouldn't. But I also know that you're not dumb, you know it wasn't what I meant.

Killer stopped in front of him. Dream didn't stop smiling, and the intensity in his gaze told Killer that he really wasn't afraid. He knew he wouldn't start a fight, they hadn't fought in years, Dream knew they were past that, he didn't have to worry. If really Killer was pissed, he would leave, he knew better than fighting his boss's brother when they established a truce.

- I am not scared of you. In any way.

Dream tilted his head.

- You think so ?

Killer frowned. He didn't like this conversation, where Dream was slowly guiding him. He came here to tell him he wasn't special, that he should give up trying to be the best, he didn't intend on losing control like that. He got closer again.

- Why would you think I'm scared of you ? You think just because you're my boss's brother you're above me ? Think you could hurt me ?

- I don't. He tilted his head the other way. You're not necessarily scared of me, but I make you afraid, that you can't deny.

Killer slammed his fists on the counter, on each side of Dream. He didn't flinch.

- I'm not afraid !

- Then why are you so defensive ? He asked with the same calm tone he used since the start.

- I...

Killer didn't know what to say, staying right in front of him, so close to him, as Dream was looking so sure of himself, so confident, while Killer was only losing his composure. What was Dream doing to him ? It wasn't because of his aura, it couldn't be, it didn't work on him, his soul was too damaged to be affected by Dream's aura, and yet he felt so... vulnerable. He never felt vulnerable in front of Dream before, if anything, it would normally have been the contrary.

- I am stronger than you...

- I know. Dream bent forward, a little closer.

Killer looked at him, his fists shaking on the counter.

- I.. am not scared of you...

- Then what are you afraid of ? He whispered.

What was he afraid of ? He wasn't afraid of anything, he certainly wasn't afraid of Dream, but his fists were shaking and he could feel his breath fasten. Why was he so nervous ? He shouldn't be nervous. He was the one who came here, he was the one who had something to say. He just had to tell Dream he would never take his place and leave, why was he still here ? He just had to warn him, to remind him he wasn't special, that he wouldn't be the favorite uncle, that he wouldn't erase him. Did Dream want to erase him ? If he did, would Moroz let him ? Would Moroz prefer Dream over him ?

- I don't... want to be behind... he shakily admitted.

- Is that what you're afraid of ? Being left behind ?

Dream looked at him, his soft gaze planted in Killer's empty sockets, his face so close to his. There wasn't mockery in his tone, he wasn't playing with him, he wasn't tricking him. Killer stared back, shaking slightly, why was he so weak ? Whow did Dream make him look so easy to read ? He was supposed to be a constant enigma, even his friends couldn't quite tell what was happening in his head sometimes, and yet Dream seemed to put his finger on every little secret he had. How did he do that ? How did he manage to pierce through his layers with such ease ?

- I... have been a tool for so long... I want to be special.. for someone... really special...

All he wanted was to be someone's special person, sure he had his friends in the castle, but Error had Nightmare, Nightmare had Error, Dust and Horror were practically if not already dating, Cross had his best friend Epic... the only one Killer could have been special to was Moroz, and he tried so hard to be, to make him happy, be present... and Dream was so nice, so sweet, so bright, how could he ever hate him ? How could Moroz not prefer him ? He was everything Killer wasn't, and he couldn't help but fear he would take his place...

- That's what I wanted to hear...

Dream murmured, and with that he put a hand on Killer's shoulder, and closed the small distance between their lips...

It was soft, soft and warm, unexpected, but not unpleasant. Killer didn't move at first, not fully believing what he was living, but when Dream drew back he put a hand on his hip, bringing him closer once again to take a new taste of his lips.

When they looked at each other, Dream smiled.

- I'm not looking to take your place, it has never been my intention, you don't have to be afraid about that.. he gently caressed his cheek, looking at the faint gray eyelight in Killer's right socket, you are one very unique person, I don't think I have ever met someone even remotely like you before.. you're very special.. so very interesting.. I would love to know more about you..

Oh how Killer liked hearing those words, feeling this delicate touch, feeling Dream's body pressed against his... without thinking, he wrapped his second arm around the guardian's waist, and kissed him again, bending over on the counter, Dream bending with him as he passed his arms around his neck. He only drew back to catch his breath, staying close.

- Maybe you're not that bad either...

Dream chuckled, biting his lip as he felt Killer's hand start to caress his side, and with one look, they both knew how they would spend the rest of their day...

Their little war seemed to cease after that day, and even though nobody was supposed to know why, they all noticed that Killer seemed less anxious, calmer, and Dream and him were bad at hiding their hickeys, and what a coincidence that they always appeared after Killer's little visits to a "friend's house"...

They found it amusing, they were all expecting it, and Killer seemed happy. Why wouldn't he be ? Dream made him feel special, he had seen him in ways that nobody else ever saw him, he knew how to read him but never used it to harm him, truly, Killer felt more peaceful with him, more vulnerable, but it was a type of vulnerability that he could get used to...

And Moroz was very happy to get to do activities with his two uncles at the same time.

[stwinsgstdrop]

Chapter 1.

Polite Stranger Smile

Characters: Ford Pines, Stan Pines, mentioned Bill Cipher

Tw: swearing (from Stan)

Ford didn’t know what he'd expected. He hadn’t spoken with his brother in a long time, hadn’t even seen him aside from his infomercials. Ford didn’t like that his face was plastered in those ridiculous things, but it did bring him comfort to see his brother's smile.

Stan's smile was something only he had, one of the few traits they didn’t share. Ford's smiles had always been a bit tight, a bit nervous, because he was never quite relaxed in his own skin; it's hard to be so when you have such a huge sense of alienation. Stan's smiles were bright enough to light up a room. It could be a wide toothy grin, with a playful tint to it, or a small subtle smirk of someone you know is proud of you. Ford had loved Stan's smiles, and used to have a mental list of their differences and meanings.

The one Stan was using right now was the Polite Stranger Smile #2, mostly used during festivities when they met relatives they were supposed to know but didn’t quite recall who they were. It was a funny smile all things considered, specially because it was usually followed by his favorite, the I Don't Know What I'm Saying, which Stan always directed at Ford as they greeted the unremembered relatives. But right now Stan wasn’t looking at someone else with the Polite Stranger Smile. It was at Ford.

Ford, who had a crossbow pointed at his twin and could not afford to get lost in memories, even though those thoughts pulled at his heart in a way that made it hard to breathe. He had to focus, focus.

"Were you followed?" He inquired, looking over his brother's shoulder but never leaving the crossbow unaimed. Stan narrowed his eyes and cocked his head, his smile straining. It was now more akin to a grimace.

"Hi, nice ta see you're alive too." Stan chuchkled, but Ford sensed no humour from it. "No. And I know 'cause that's totally a concern normal people who aren't doing anything wrong have." He said, and Ford couldn’t tell if Stan was being sarcastic or not. He couldn't do it without much concentration in good days, so trying now would be futile at best. He decided not to press the matter further, and tried to pull Stan in to check his eyes.

Only, Stan stayed firmly planted in his place, looking at him with that same grimmace, slightly furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. He was suspicious. Scared? It was hard to read him, now. Ford would not think about the implications of it, he didn’t have time nor energy to afford getting emotional over a face. Even though it's an important face.

"I'm sorry bro, I'm sure you don't have any terrible or, uh, vengeful intentions, but I'm not getting in while you have that crossbow pointed at me." He said breathily, like he was trying to say something serious with a humorous delivery. Ford frowned and slowly put down the crossbow. "Now we talkin'."

Stan followed Ford's pull, and Ford checked his eyes. Stan stared at him, not even pretending he wasn’t weirded out by the situation at this point. He rolled his eyes.

"Good to see you don't think I'm a junkie." He said with what Ford knew to be sarcasm, so he had to stop for a second. Upon further thought, yeah, he could see why Stan would think he'd thought that.

"No, no, I just had to... You could've been..." Ford looked away, trailling off. "It's complicated."

Stan seemed fine. He could handle this task, right? But what if he couldn’t understand? What if it was too much? But if he didn't explain, what if Bill got to him? He had to explain everything. Yes, yes. He could do this. Stan could do this.

"Uh, you gonna explain what's going on, here? You're acting like Mom after her tenth cup of coffee." Stan said, interrupting Ford's musings. Ford looked at him and took a deep breath.

"Listen, there isn't much time. I've made huge mistakes and I don't know who I can trust anymore." From the corner of his eye he saw his research skeleton (for anatomycal comparisons with gnomes) flash a bright yellow eye at him, and quickly turned it away. They weren't safe. What if Stan didn’t understand? What if they really were just strangers sharing a face after all these years? Ford started pacing, muttering to himself.

"Hey, uh, easy there." Stan had both his hands extended like he was trying to calm down a wild animal. Which, fair enough, Ford could concede he might look a little... rough. "Let's talk this through, okay?"

"I have something to show you. Something you won't believe." Ford said, rubbing his hands. Everything felt scratchy, like his consciousness was just barely there. Stan smiled, and this time it was his reassuring one. Ford liked this one. Their childhood was filled with this smile, reflecting how their own mom smiled at them.

"Look, I've been around the world, okay? Whatever it is, I'll understand." Stan said. Ford hoped he was right, but knew he couldn’t be.

Ford led his brother towards his secret lab, and only as they stood in the elevator, did he stop to notice Stanley himself. Ford was hungy and exhausted and on the lookout for a demon who threatened to gouge his eyes from its sockets. He couldn't afford to pay attention to these details at every waking moment, but it didn’t mean he didn’t care. He just had a lot in his mind.

Stan had a tidy jacked that looked well worn, but cared for. His hair was wrapped in a ponytail, and he had a bit of beard on his chin. He looked nice. Didn’t have huge bags under his eyes like Ford, and didn’t look too thin. He wasn’t as big as when they were teenagers, but strongly built. Ford was glad. He'd always had a tiny voice at the back of his head worrying if Stanley would be able to make it alone in the big world, specially when they were teens. But by the looks of it he'd been fine.

It almost made him mad. Stanley was here, a fully functional adult with his 5 normal fingers and no demons to haunt him, after costing Ford everything. No, no, not now. He couldn't let himself go that way. He had to finish this. He turned on the lights as they walked into the lab, revealing his beloathed portal.

The room was cold, as to keep the machinery cool and avoid overheating but also because Ford constantly forgot to turn up the thermostate when they were turned off. The portal itself was of a large triangular shape with an opening at its center, where his muse were to come out of, before Ford's realization of the demon's true intentions.

Stan gaped. Ford expected something like 'there is nothing about this that I understand', maybe a joke about it being a doomsday portal, or just a questioning look. He hadn’t expected Stan to look at him like he fully understood what he'd done, the magnitude of the situation, how much danger they and the whole wolrd could be in, like he got it.

How could Stanley get it? Ford must've been imagining it, projecting wishful thinking onto his twin. He needed to explain the situation, how it came to this- and it had nothing to do with the look of abject horror his brother was pointing at him. He needed Stan to know he hadn’t meant for such danger.

"It's a trans-universal gateway, a punched hole through a weak spot in our dimension. I created it to unlock the mysteries of the universe. But it could just as easily be harnessed for terrible destruction. That's why I shut it down and-"

"Ford," Stan said in a raspy, breathy voice lacking any of his usual humour. "What the fuck did you do?"

Ford looked into Stan's eyes and realized the look of horror was filled with an actual understanding. That couldn’t be right. How could Stanley of all people know what was going on, even begin to comprehend the scale of what he was dealing with? His brother had to be thinking of some sci-fi movie. It was impossible.

"I- I shut it down and hid my journals, which explain how to operate it." He kept going. Stanley had to understand it. Once he did everything would be okay.

Stanley stared at him.

"There's only one journal left. And you are the only person I can trust to take it." He handed Stan the journal.

Stan looked at it, and then back at Ford's face. Before he could ask, Ford kept going. They didn't have enough time for questions and pleasantries or whatever else Stan might want. Bill was always watching, always waiting for an oportunity to possess him again, and he didn’t know what the entity would do when he found out about this.

"I have something to ask of you: remember our plans to sail around the world on a boat?" Stan frowned. "Take this book, get on a boat, and sail as far away as ya can! To the edge of the Earth! Bury it where no one can find it!"

Stan stared at Ford like he'd personally insulted him. Stan breathed deep, and exhaled slowly. When he opened his eyes again, it was as if he were a different person.

"I'm not asking again, Ford." He said in a serious tone Ford had never heard from him before. "What the fuck did you do?

Chp. 1; Next.>

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Centaur Worldbuilding

this one has been in the works for a really long time! but here it is at last: the details about how I personally have chosen to worldbuild with centaurs.

My centaurs are based on chalicotheres, popularly referred to as "gorilla horses". I thought they were a perfect base to start from when making people that resemble a horse combined with a human. Though my centaurs lean way more into the chalicothere look and don't resemble humans much at all.

here are a few variations on color/pattern for centaur coats, based mostly on paleoart of chalicotheres.

(image description: six illustrations of centaurs with different coloration. The two main colors are a red-brown and a duller tan color. the three main patterns are soft gradients, stripes, and spots. end description.)

and it is a really really long post so the rest is under a cut for convenience.

The reason centaurs have six limbs is because somewhere back in their ancient ancestry, chimeric twins became more and more common and then became the default. There was most certainly some meddling from a Life entity in order to make this happen (the immortal beings who channel the world's natural magic energy to mess with living things as they please, though they can only use a limited amount of power before they fade into that vast well of energy and disappear). This does mean that the front "legs" of a centaur are actually a pair of arms. The main differences between the upper arms and the front legs are the placement of the shoulder, the amount of muscle, and how the centaurs trim their hooves for dexterity or support.

(image description: two drawings of a centaur standing while bending down to touch the ground with their hands. the second image shows an overlay of their skeleton, illustrating the chimeric twin anatomy with its split ribcage and two pairs of forelimbs, or arms. They have three hooved digits on each hand/foot on all six limbs. visually, their face is a bit horse-like and their whole body is colored reddish-brown with a pale belly. end description.)

and yes, they can use use their front legs as a pair of secondary arms when needed. They're not as dextrous a pair of arms, but they do make a lot of tasks easier, such as being able to buckle a bag strap around one's own belly, or catching hold of a rambunctious foal before they run face first into your knees.

(any inconsistencies in these proportions from here onward is entirely down to my own artistic flaws, as keeping character/creature designs perfectly consistent is not easy)

Because they are chimeric twins, it is far more common for centaurs to be born with congenital defects than it is for any other group. The second pair of forelimbs and the added height of the upper torso may be extremely useful for leaf-browsing creatures like centaurs, but the messy nature of their gestation often causes problems. Much of the time, this leads to stillbirths and miscarriage. but some defects are survivable and every herd has a good number of disabled members.

(image description: simple sketches of three visibly disabled centaurs using mobility aids. The first one has underdeveloped forelegs, and is using a combination of crutches and a wheeled platform under their lower torso. the second one was born without the chimeric twin, resembling a chalicothere. they have a folding support stand strapped to their belly to support their weight when they need to use their hands. the last one has a ribcage that failed to split, resulting in a short torso like the twinless centaur, as well as a pair of underdeveloped forelegs. they are using a wheeled platform under their chest, which they can push with their upper pair of arms. end description.)

These are just a few of the more visible and survivable disabilities common to centaurs. wheels are a very important invention for centaur life, not only for their disabled population, but also because pulling carts is a much more effective way to carry a lot of items at once, which is very useful.

Centaurs are also enormous. twelve feet, or roughly 3.5 meters, tall from the base of their front toes to the top of their head when standing upright. They tower over pretty much every other people species, as they are basically just a remnant ice age megafauna that became sapient.

(image description: flat colored drawings of an orc, an elf, and a centaur all standing next to each other. the orc comes roughly to the centaur's upper ribs, and the elf is roughly as tall as the orc's armpit. end description)

it would be extremely rude, but anyone the size of an average elf or smaller could easily play limbo under a centaur's belly. it's a really bad idea though.

Orcs are also remnant megafauna, and it's not by coincidence. Their ancestors were the main predator of ancient centaurs. (this also means the ancestors of gnomes were the main predator of centaurs, but this fact is often overlooked since gnomes are so much smaller than their cousins). even into the modern day (of my stories) centaurs mostly live in their own isolated territories, actively keeping other people out. Especially the orcs. The journey from natural predator and prey, to sapient peoples who did not recognize each other as people, to enemies, and then to tensely peaceful separated populations, was a long and difficult journey, fraught with violence on all sides.

Where the line falls between animal and people is murky and difficult to define. When exactly did the natural behavior of hunting prey become grounds for warfare? No one is really sure. Even if the line is drawn, what would it change? nothing. the past already happened. their people already have an enormous divide between them; a chasm of blood that can't be forgotten.

(image description: a vividly colored digital painting of an ancient centaur trying to escape three ancient pig-like predators as they pounce and bite in their attempt to bring it down. end description.)

many orcish artifacts still remain in centaur territory as the result of many clashes and hurried retreats. The orcs conceded, in the end. they returned all their belongings that were made from the bodies of centaurs, allowed the centaurs to draw the territorial lines, and then kept themselves far away and avoided those areas for centuries.

Centaurs are a migrational species, so orcs were too. Orcish culture used to focus on centaurs as a sacred animal, and then they had to toss it all aside and build their culture back up from whatever they had left. and in the meantime, the centaurs who had spent so many generations fleeing predation, watching their most frail herd members be picked off, and fighting back at last to defend themselves, were free to rest and build their culture far beyond their prior means. they became master weavers, using a wide variety of plant fibers to create clothing and art and useful items they didn't have time for when they were more in danger of being hunted. Though most centaurs still choose to go around with very little clothing, if any, because it feels more practical.

(image description: three different centaur outfits. the first is minimal, all jewelry and simple gloves. the note on it says "small accessories and jewelry are often more practical for an active centaur." the second one is wearing bark cloth around both of their waists to act as a barrier between their body and the straps of large bags on their back. They are also wearing gloves and cloth wraps around their hands and feet. the note here says "centaurs are largely nomadic and have developed many durable weaving techniques to create high quality travel bags." and lastly is a ceremonial outfit, featuring a cape and gloves all dyed in vivid shades of green with leafy patterns in the cloth. the cape is decorated with a fringe of thin cedar strips, matching a headdress of the same material. behind their head, the centaur wears a skull. the note here says "Religious garb often uses centaur skulls to reflect the nature of their conjoined deities. The Withered Twins are more commonly represented because they are a healer and gentle guide." end description)

and one very common piece of clothing for all adult centaurs is the "I'm not your mom" blanket; a weighted cloth laid over the flank to deter nosy newborns during peak baby season.

(image description: a striped adult centaur wearing a cropped shirt with beaded straps and a fancy looking leaf-pattern blanket strapped around their lower waist shoos off a speckled foal who looks a bit confused. end description.)

nosy newborns very easily forget who their mom is and need to be redirected quite often. though some lactating centaurs are more than willing to share the burden of keeping all the babies fed, and their culture does involve a lot of communal child rearing. monogamous couples and exclusive marital bonds are uncommon in centaur herds.

Most herds are led by a council of elders, who are trusted to make wise decisions as they follow their ancestral migration paths and constantly assess the needs of the herd. Some of the most important elders are those who act as religious leaders, representing the conjoined deities. Centaurs generally have two main deities. The Perfected Twins, a warrior deity, and The Withered Twins, a deity representing both death and healing.

(image description: two vibrant illustrations of centaur deities, both with a long braid of hair, their heads framed by shining circular designs like halos.

in shades of red, the warrior deity, the perfected twins, is noted to represent defense, fury, power, and hope. they have two active heads, joined at an angle in the middle so they look in different directions, two pairs of upper arms holding a shield, a spear, and a bow and arrow, and four legs. They are wearing armor on their upper waist and all of their arms. They are rearing up and look to be charging into battle.

in shades of blue, the death deity, the withered twins, noted to represent protection, healing, love, and grief. they have one active head and a smaller, partly decayed head attached to the back of their skull. Their forelegs are also underdeveloped and scrawny. their whole body is overlayed with a skeletal design. They are curled into a protective pose, holding a twinless infant with their whole torso and front limbs depicted as bones with no flesh. the deity is also wearing a translucent cape attached to upper arm bracelets.

end description)

centaurs have been fully aware of their chimeric twin biology for centuries, though they did not have the means to study it in detail or understand exactly what was happening during gestation. it's not hard though, to notice that your species is made of fused twin bodies when so many of your people are born with their bodies fused wrong, especially those who are stillborn. They believe they also have twin souls, and that the twin who is sacrificed in the womb gets to be the dominant twin in their next life. those who are born twinless usually undergo a lot of spiritual meditation to connect with their lost twin so they can meet up again in death. the stillborn foals with more obvious conjoined anatomy are said to be twins who had a fight about which of them would be dominant this time, and so they came out wrong and had to try again.

the infant held by the Withered Twins represents the sacrificed twin who waits as a spirit for their turn in the next life while the living twin uses their arms and ribs. The Withered Twins are the most commonly worshipped deity, prayed to for comfort and healing and guidance, acting as a conduit for living centaurs to stay in touch with their twin's soul. but the Perfected Twins also play an important role in centaur culture, even though their fierce warrior nature is no longer needed since the centaurs were able to separate themselves from the orcs.

the Perfected Twins represent the idealize form; the possibility of both twins sharing a body, neither being sacrificed while the other remains alive and dominant. they represent community action, partnership, cooperation. when needed, they are prayed to for strength. their image guards the borders of centaur territories, a signal to all outsiders that the centaurs have not grown docile even in isolation. at a moment's notice, they will take up arms again to keep themselves safe.

in the canon of my main stories, there was a very important historical event involving centaurs. some centuries after the Goblin Revolution shook the world and put everyone through some rough patches as various populations turned to isolation and self-imposed segregation to prevent any other interspecies troubles, while other populations embraced interspecies cooperation, there was an orc in one country who took the lead of a large clan and decided to end their tradition of isolation and reach out to the other people species in the local area. his name was He-esh and he was the first orc in that part of the world to strike an alliance with the nearby dwarf clans. he did a lot of other notable things, acting as a diplomat and repairing the broken relationship his people had with their gnomish cousins.

most notable of all, however, was his bold decision to contact the centaurs and lay his life on the line to carry an apology for the actions of his ancestors and plea for alliance between their peoples, hoping it would someday turn into friendship.

(image description: a grayscale illustration with gold accents, showing an orc kneeling in front of an armored centaur while they hold a spear to his chest. both figures have a golden halo drawn around their heads. the orc is wearing simple but elegant looking clothes, including a fringe of black feathers on the hem of his coat, and a pair of long straight tusks in his hair. his own tusks are curled with the points facing backwards. end description.)

He-esh's plea to the centaurs was received with apprehension, quite reasonably. but he never asked forgiveness, only a chance to let the future be forged anew. eventually, the centaurs accepted his plea and he was able to strike an alliance with them, gradually opening trade between them and other people species in their area. though he was never allowed very far in, He-esh got to walk into the centaur territory once to meet with their elders. at the end of He-esh's life, a centaur diplomat made history again by being the first to enter orc territory in a peaceful manner, as far as any records could tell.

this event marks the beginning of my most central story project, so I won't give away all the details yet.

as a final note on my centaurs: they don't have genders. their pronouns are based on age (child and adult) and social hierarchy (important adults).

ila/ las (child pronoun) hul/ hes (adult pronoun) ma-hul/ ma-hes (important adult pronoun)

I haven't been using the correct fantasy pronouns for all my characters very consistently, because it is a little tricky to keep track of them all and I have yet again made changes due to dissatisfaction with a few of them lol. but when I eventually have completed stories, I'll be using all those pronouns to enhance immersion.

this post has been a long time in the making, so i'm glad to finally have it done!! thanks for being patient!

[yakutarts]

My first commission of the entire fucking year.

Explanation why this has the Undertale tag under the cut ⬇️

This is a Discord commission for Reef, thank you so much for commissioning me, it truly means a lot and it has been a really long time since I drew for someone else. ♥️

Wtf this has to do with Undertale? This is a dragonized version of the client’s OC, Pearl. She’s a ship child of Dream and Blue, for further context, see this post. Basically his OC if she was a “dragon” like Dream and Nightmare (Dragon is between “” cuz they are not actual dragons, because that wasn’t what I intended while creating the designs, it isn’t a “them but dragons AU”, but a “Them if they didn’t had skeleton vessels AU”. But I will continue use the term because it stuck and it’s the most simple way to describe them.)

BOY do I have things to yap about this. It’s been SO LONG since my last client (August 2023), and I was actually a little nervous, worried that it might not look good but it turned out quite amazing! There is no better motivator like money! /hj

The top 3 hardest parts of making this was figuring out how to place the neck and back plates and how they are going to overlap each other, the neck angle and how it bends was not helping at all lol, had to revise it 3 times to make sure it was right. Tried to make them pearl shaped while having some resemblance to Dream’s plate design since that’s his child and all.

Second hardest part was the coloring, since this is a custom design and my reference was a skeleton, I had to cook some shit up. I spent some hot time wandering how I should color this without making it look boring, this is a flat body comm so I had to figure out how to make it look interesting without shading everything so it wouldn’t look bland. Coloring with watercolor made it easier, more textured. Decided to pick a gradient between green and blue, in the beginning it kinda felt like I was coloring a beach. The underbelly was actually gold before it got changed to pale yellow, the star pattern, white freckles and the darker color in the plates is what made it stand out the most.

The last hardest part of this was resisting the urge to shade it, cuz damn I really wanted to.

But well, that’s pretty much it! I hope to get more clients with more frequency, instead of 1 every six months or I this case 1 per year 💀.

Honestly I have been really happy with everything so far, I really like the UTMV community and I get fuzzy feelings at the thought that somebody liked my “true form apple twins” AU so much that they diced to commission me a piece based on that idea. It really means everything to me after the things I have been through (dw about it).

ALSO ALSO! Since this is a Dreamberry ship child, during the whole commission, start to finish, I could only think about this /j :

Yes I made this yes I hyper focused on making this right after I finished the main drawing no I’m not normal.

Pearl belongs to Reef

Dreamtale belongs to @ Jokublog

Ink!sans belongs to @ Myebi / @ Comyet

Swap!sans created by PopcornPrince / now Community Owned

True Form AU / Designs belong to me ( @ yakutarts)

[boinkingbattlemechs]

Phoenix Hawk IIC

Though in many ways it resembles the combat prowess of the Inner Sphere's Charger, the Phoenix Hawk IIC is a fixture of many second-line Clan Clusters and front-line Successor State regiments during the Word of Blake Jihad.

During the reign of the lackluster Khan Jacob Masters, Clan Steel Viper entered a period of stagnation in all areas, including technological development. In a rare fit of innovation at the time, though one many observers considered oddball at best, the Steel Viper Scientist Caste decided to base a new assault BattleMech on the venerable 45-ton Phoenix Hawk chassis. At 80-tons, the resulting design was almost twice as heavy as the original, though it is severely undergunned for an assault 'Mech due its incredible speed for a 'Mech its size. Following the introduction of the OmniMech by Clan Coyote just three years later however, the Phoenix Hawk IIC largely saw itself relegated to second-line status.

Built around the Type 79 400 XL engine mounted on an Endo Steel skeleton fitted with five Jump Jets, the Phoenix Hawk IIC features as close as possible ground speed and agility to the original Phoenix Hawk as can be reasonably achieved on an 80-ton assault 'Mech, making it an effective fast interdiction unit. Ten and half tons of ferro-fibrous armor provide eighty-one percent of the maximum possible protection at its weight class, while ten Double Heat Sinks are sufficient for the weapons array.

The main armament of the Phoenix Hawk IIC is the paired Ultra Autocannon/10s, each of which has a three-ton ammunition bin it can draw on. The cannons are mounted in twin pods on either side of torso to the rear, a feature allowing technicians easy access to the weapons and reducing maintenance time both at base or in the field. A pair of Machine Guns provide extra firepower that is most useful against unarmored infantry. Despite the Clans' disdain for it, the 'Mech's weaponless arms are almost ideal for physical combat.

The Phoenix Hawk IIC would gain a new vitality following Clan Jade Falcon's ejection of the Steel Vipers from the Inner Sphere in 3061. Seeking to rapidly rebuild their weakened touman, Khan Perigard Zalman approached Clan Diamond Shark offering captured Heavy Laser technology and the plans for the ancient design in return for the production of a new variant for the Steel Viper's second-line clusters. Initially observers were curious why the Sharks dealt so fairly with such a weakened "customer", but the rapid development of even more deadly variations not included in the deal agreed with the Vipers provided some explanation, with production of the visually reworked chassis initiated at both Auxiliary Production Site #5 on Babylon and the rebuilt Trellshire Heavy Industries of Twycross.

By 3078 six variations of the Phoenix Hawk IIC were walking off Trellshire's production lines for the garrison forces of Diamond Shark as well as for sale to both Clan and Inner Sphere buyers. While some among the Clans opposed such sales to Spheroids, the focus on designs like the Phoenix Hawk IIC that are considered mediocre by Clan warrior but are still outstanding by Inner Sphere standards appears to be a conscious choice by the Sharks. Many of the variants also utilize ammunition-hungry weapons, a decision Clan observers wryly note ensures Inner Sphere buyers either make steady munitions purchases or are forced to more frequently buy replacement parts from the accelerated wear caused by using inferior Spheroid ordnance, both ensuring frequent repeat business for the Diamond Sharks.

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Could you describe how you see some of the creeps' rooms? Like what they havein there or if their roms are messy or always clean? :)

I decided that for this one, I would do my most popular creeps, if you or anyone else reading would like more headcanons on different creeps, let me know and i will be happy to!

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Toby

Toby's room is located on the third floor of the mansion/manor (havent decided which one i like better) and is the third door on the left

His door doesn't really have anything fancy on it, it is a simple wooden door with his name on a bronze plate, just like the rest of the creeps

His room has a very grunge-esc and indie vibe to it

His bed is a twin sized bed, with a deep brown comforter, faded yellow sheets and two pillows with no pillowcases on them

He has 2 squishmellows, the hamster and the mango, they sit on his bed, and when he sleeps he uses one as an additional pillow, and the other one he hugs tightly to his chest

He has a lot of tapestries, and not many posters

He has posters for the beetles, fleetwood mac, and ozzy osbourne, and they are all on the wall above his bed

The rest of the tapestries are generic designs with skeletons and stars

He has a small couch under the window of his room, that has a small purple blanket thrown over the top of the couch

He has a lot of fake plants and vines in his room, because he can't take care of real plants to save his life

He has a wooden desk, and on that desk he has his laptop, headphones, tablet, hairspray, books, and writing utensils

Amongst those other things, he also has a few dishes on his desk

He uses his closet as a makeshift house for animals he finds (often possums and raccoons) so that he can help them return to full health, before setting them free once more

However, he does have 3 pet raccoons that just kept on coming back after he set them free, so he just kind of uses his closet for them

His clothes are stored on a clothing rack next to his couch

He has one nightstand on the left side of his bed, where he keeps his phone, charger, and in the drawer, he has spare masks, gloves, medications, and bandages/bandaids

He has a tv in his room, on the wall in front of his bed

All things considered, his room isnt too messy, he has a few dirty clothes here and there, and a few dishes, but it's not terrible

Masky

His room is on the third floor, and is the second door on the right

His door is also not decorated, just a simple wooden door with his name on a bronze plate

His room reeks of cigarettes

His bed is right under his window, it is queen sized and is the first thing you see as you open his door

He has basic white sheets, pillows with basic white pillowcases, and a basic brown comforter

He has a desk on the wall to the left of his bed, where he keeps books, notebooks, writing utensils, and his laptop

Next to his desk, he has an array of weapons

Guns, knifes, crossbows, etc

He has them displayed on the wall, he absolutely just stares at them from time to time, very proud of them

He doesn't have many decorations, but he does have a few trinkets Toby and Sally have given him

He has two nightstands, one has a lamp and the book hes reading, and the other has an ashtray and his current pack of cigarettes

In the drawers he has his medications, and his reading glasses (he refuses to accept the fact he's old, be nice to him about the glasses)

The jacket he normally wears is almost always thrown over his desk chair, ready for it to be used the next day

His closet is only really halfway full, so he uses the other half to store his pajamas, socks and underwear

He has a bunch of records and loves to play them

Takes him back to the good ol days

He is probably the second cleanest on this list

Eyeless Jack

His bedroom is on the second floor, and is the first door to your left

His door has been painted black and his entire room is soundproof

The black door is partly because he just likes it that way and partly to differentiate himself from Laughing Jack, which both door plates just read "Jack"

He has a twin sized bed with grey sheets and pillowcases, and a black comforter

His windows are covered by blackout curtains, making his room one of the darkest

Next to his bed, he has a nightstand with a lamp

Thats the only light source he allows

On the other side of his bed, there is a book cart with books (duh) and a few plants

He also has a bookshelf, but all of the books on the shelf are strictly educational books (studies on anatomy, different illnesses for different creatures, etc)

His desk has his laptop, tablet and a stack of notebooks, all full with his neat handwriting and labled with different things

He doesnt have many decorations in his room, but he does have some framed pictures of his friends from around the mansion

He also has a mini fridge with his stash of fresh food, it is kept clean and is restocked once every 2 weeks

He keeps his room spotless, no dust on anything, bed always made, etc

Definetly the cleanest on this list, if not in the entire house

Jeff

Jeff's room is on the second floor, and is the second door on the left

His door is very much decorated with crime scene tape, a stop sign and a small band poster

His room is very dirty, clothes, trash and dishes are strewn about the room, with a small path from his door to his bed

He has a twin sized bed (if you can even call it that) it is a worn out matress on the floor, with no sheets, pillows without a pillowcase, and a black comforter

He has a nightstand with his vape, medications and phone on it

He has a desk with a pc, nintendo switch, hairspray and makeup but he doesn't really sit at his desk much

His walls are completely covered in band posters, pride flags, road signs, and of course, his tv

He has an electric guitar, but he doesn't play it much

He only knows how to play MSI songs, but he is suprisingly good at them

He has a mannequin in his room as well, "Lucy", he named her, she is missing a leg, and four of her fingers on her left hand, jeff has stuck a knife through her eye and placed stickers over where her nipples would be as makeshift pasties

It is a running joke that Lucy is Jeff's one true love, but they have to keep their love a secret because people wouldn't understand them being together

BEN even bought lucy a cheap wig off of amazon, which sits crooked and tangled on her head

Lucy holds Jeff's bags, and his knives

His room doesn't exactly smell bad, but it doesn't smell pleasent

0/10 PLEASE DO NOT GO IN THERE WHATEVER YOU DO, YOU WILL BE MUTATED

BEN

He is on the third floor, and is the third door on the right

His door is a simple wooden door with a bronze plate that says his name

His bed is very low, almost touching the floor

There are no sheets, no pillowcases and a basic blue comforter

He has LED lights on the ceiling, which are almost always turned green

His desk has a full gaming set up, double moniters, and LED headphones, keyboard and mouse

Behind all of that, he has his hairspray, deodorant, and nintendo switch OLED

On the wall in front of his bed, his tv is mounted, under his tv he has a ps5, an xbox1 and an n64

He also has a small bookshelf where he stores all of his physical game copies

He has a bunch of blue light tapestries, almost all of them have at least one skeleton on it

He also has some posters for his favorite animes and video games (Black butler, one piece, the occassional hatsune miku poster...)

SPEAKING OF HATSUNE MIKU

He is throughly obsessed with her

He has a bunch of figurines he keeps around his gaming set up, he has a hatsune miku plush that sits on his shelf of video games, and he also bought a miku body pillow "as a joke"

And you better believe he has a few t-shirts

He keeps the body pillow stuffed under his bed, away from anyone who could possibly see her

I wouldn't say he classifies as a weeb, but he's definitely up there in the ranks

He also has a snack cart by his pc set up, one tier with drinks, the other two with snacks like chips, cookies, pastries, etc

As for cleanliness, i would say he isnt too dirty

He has a few dirty dishes on his desk, a few dirty shirts and hoodies here and there but other than that, his room is pretty clean

[twinroomies]

Im new here, is there tag/people that can explain icarus meme? Who anonymous icarus that getting warned? Masterpost maybe?

There are explanations, but let's do you one better, I'll write a summary here and we can put a specific tag on it! "Icarus Anon" was a user who sent me about 20 anonymous asks in the span of about a half hour. This was early on in the blog's run, I think maybe even the SECOND DAY of it's existence, and I decided the best way to cut that kind of behavior out of the equation was to be light-hearted about it and address it head on. So I said:

"Careful, Icarus." Now, this isn't my bit, this actually comes from an anecdote that became a recurring gag on the "Craig Fergurson Late Night Show" (which honestly if you have not seen clips from it might be some of my favorite comedy material out there, this show frequently just became live-action Space Ghost Coast to Coast, it was great), after someone responded to the character Geoff Peterson, who's that skeleton gentleman over there, with the iconic two word phrase our joke here stems from as well over on Twitter. Now, this is all well and good, but what I wasn't expecting was that the general audience of Twin Roomies would LOVE this bit as well. Icarus Anon has had asks submitted about them, fan-art most prominently created by the insanely talented @givemenoname, and even requests for me to put them in the main comic*. The problem is, dear anon*, that Icarus was created as a warning, right? While I've begrudgingly accepted this as a bit that my audience enjoys and have even come to embrace it myself, the last thing I want is for more people to start doing things like that in order to create a legacy. The way I handled that situation was, though with good intent, kind of a mistake. This is why Icarus Anon isn't actively discussed, hadn't been given a tag up to now, or wasn't given an explanation in the masterpost. He's not supposed to exist, and he was originally a specific poster that was causing a ruckus. Now, however, the character has become a representation of my audience getting rowdy / people who ask questions who accidentally go a bit far. Questions like: "Can I see more thicc Asriel"? Careful, Icarus. Not to be confused with questions that ACTUALLY go too far, those questions are either ignored or dragged into the streets to made into an example. Like Icarus in the original folktale, an Icarus Anon is someone who, with the best intentions, flies too close to the sun in the joy of their freedom. Not with hate, malice, or spite, but out of passion. But, still... lest the wax melt in the heat of the sun?

Careful, Icarus.

*I personally see the character of Icarus Anon as a 'he' as Icarus himself was a boy, though I have no idea of the gender of the original anon and for reasons I discuss in the main text I firmly separate this character from them now. *For the record, everyone is anon around here even if you ask a question with your name attached.