#[ HORN INTERLUDE ]

[knifebaby3000]

chateau lobby #4 (reprise)

[the-cinnamontography-is-amazing]

Most Hollywood musicals of the 30's and 40's, had built in musical numbers with black performers, but because of the southern film markets, these scenes had to be easily cut away and/or not integral to the whole story because they could not handle to see the horrors of *black people singing and dancing* in southern movie theaters.

But yeah...how about them liberal, yankee snowflakes?

[strawberryg-cake]

Weird Family = Happy family. | Albedo x reader (with special appearances of Klee and now mini Human Durin)

CONTAIN SPOILERS FROM THE 5.6 INTERLUDE!

Category(?): Fluff... Melting, absolutely cute.

もしもし〜 ! (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠). Of course I had to do something like this, after seeing human Durin bc he's such a cute little boy and IK that he will live with big brother Albedo and little sister Klee (absolutely adorable). This is quite a long one, so you have been advised.

Enjoy! ✦

✧. ┊   POV:

"You have been a couple for a while now, to the point that you spend most of your time at his house instead of yours. Albedo lives with his little sister Klee, and now a human child version of Durin. What would the dynamic be like for you two as a couple?"

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

❀ You weren't surprised when Albedo accomplished the last mission his master left. Actually, you were already expecting it, because you knew the genius he is. Even so, you were cautious about it, not being sure how it would go—especially taking into consideration that he was going to use the heart of the dragon that almost made Mondstadt fall centuries ago.

❀ Albedo, being as perceptive as usual and knowing you weren't just going to trust him without proof—one of the several things he likes about you—made a decision even before turning mini Durin into a human. After it was done, he would test him... not only to ensure his body was stable, but also to have some proof that could make you feel comfortable and safe around the little dragon-human kid.

❀ So he did. The first time you met the little guy, your heart melted. You were working in the lab with Sucrose, helping her stabilize a solvent created with Hydro elemental energy, when you saw a well-known face enter the lab and a shorter figure behind him—red wings slightly moving while he poked his head in, violet hair and a pair of cute horns. You almost melted right there... almost.

❀ "Oh, so this is..." Before you could even finish your question, Albedo kneeled in front of the kid, and you followed his actions. "Durin, do you remember the friend Klee mentioned to you?" The little boy nodded while Albedo made the introductions.

❀ "Oh! You're Klee's big sister?" That instantly made you smile, because Klee— even before the two of you started your relationship— was already calling you big sister and dragging you around to avoid any... inconveniences (specifically, explosions in the city).

❀ After a few minutes of talking, Albedo noticed that the detailed report he had prepared for you wasn’t really necessary anymore. You were already chatting with the curious kid, trying to explain what you were doing. He knew you'd accepted him the moment you affectionately ruffled his hair, making Durin laugh. Even so, Albedo still left the report for you—just to ensure you felt comfortable and had the necessary (and scientific) proof to be at peace with the newest member of his very unique family.

❀ What you didn’t expect was how much Durin liked you. He would often go with Klee to the lab whenever the sign "Experiment in Progress" wasn’t hanging outside. He’d ask you tons of questions about your research, and even ask Albedo if he could stay with you while you worked — just to learn more. How could you say no?

❀ “Why is it shining like that?”, “What’s a Dendro solvent?”, “Is it edible?” — and a bunch more questions you willingly answered in the simplest way possible. Albedo wouldn’t show it, but he’d be melting inside from seeing the bond the two of you shared.

❀ If you used to make desserts for your boyfriend, Klee, and yourself, Albedo quickly noticed how you began making more to share with Durin too. Playtime and dessert with Klee soon turned into playtime with Klee and Durin. Half of it was spent making sure none of Klee’s Dodoco bombs exploded inside the city, and the other half trying to keep Durin from flying off without permission… The last part failed after the two kids decided to race for your last dessert.

❀ Eventually, Lisa or Kaeya would point out that the four of you looked and acted like a family. You’d flusteredly dismiss it with a, “I’m just taking care of them, they’re adorable.”

❀ If you ever looked for quiet time with Albedo, it would probably be in his office. Reports of your investigation now included some tea time and intellectual chats... also a few kisses, but that’s not important, right?

❀ Yes, Durin would eventually start calling you “Big Sister” too.

❀ The first time you visited Albedo’s home after Durin became a human, you were completely surprised by how well he managed the two kids on his own. The house was tidy as usual, no sign of chaos or anything out of place — that is, until the two bundles of chaos he had as siblings ran toward you, almost making you fall in the process.

❀ Durin will want your attention. Klee will also want your attention… Albedo will make sure you don’t go crazy and will look for an activity the four of you can enjoy together.

❀ When you stay over, it’s mostly because you want to spend time with Albedo — which you eventually do — but first, the two of you need to get the kiddos to sleep.

❀ When you finally have some time alone, Albedo will make some tea and bring desserts while the two of you talk about your day, your research, his art, etc. It feels strangely intimate — not just because you now spend more time at his house, but because you are the one who loves his two siblings as much as you love him.

❀ Klee will end up putting stickers on your lab coat while Durin paints the two of you in the lab. Of course, you show up the next day still wearing your lab coat full of stickers, proudly. And Albedo? He’ll find a cute drawing you forgot to take out of your report. Adorable.

❀ There will be a time when you’re taking care of them at Albedo’s house. It’s raining, and— “Big sister, let’s play together!” You get ambushed by two kids under the rain. Klee probably uses the chance to test her new sparkling water Dodoco bombs.

❀ When Albedo returns, the three of you are already changed into warm clothes, your hair still a bit damp, Durin curled up on one side and Klee on the other. He quietly places a blanket over your shoulders, wearing a faint smile.

❀ Durin will listen carefully when you talk or give advice. Klee… not so much. Which only proves your hypothesis that she’s obedient only to Albedo or Jean.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It was a cold morning. You weren’t surprised to find Albedo still sleeping by your side—he’d stayed up late the night before, working on an experiment. A lazy yet loving smile curled on your lips as you watched him sleep peacefully. Pale blond hair slightly messy, long lashes fluttering as he dreamed, and a relaxed expression that warmed your heart.

Careful not to wake him, you slipped out of bed and grabbed one of his cardigans, only to notice your clothes neatly arranged next to his. You weren’t surprised—by now, you spent more time at his place than your own. Your toothbrush stood beside his in the bathroom, and your lab coat hung right next to his. It felt strangely intimate, warm, and cozy.

Still drowsy, you made your way to the kitchen to brew some coffee, hoping it would give both of you the energy to face the day.

“I need to caffeinate… or perish,” you muttered, stifling a big yawn.

But before the coffee had even finished brewing, a pair of warm arms wrapped around you—a blur of violet hair.

So much for a quiet morning.

“Big sister, you’re awake!” Durin beamed, his little horns nuzzling against your chest and his face pressing into the cardigan you’d stolen. His dragon wings fluttered with excitement.

You were dazed, nearly losing your balance. "It seems like I've been ambushed by a chibi dragon..." you mumbled, your eyes still half-closed.

When you lowered your gaze, a pair of scarlet eyes met yours, gleaming with innocent curiosity. Then, Durin hugged you even tighter, and his cute dragon tail flicked excitedly.

A familiar figure with blonde hair, dressed in a red pajama and clutching a dodoco teddy to her chest, ran toward you. "Big sister is awake!" Klee’s excitement was enough to make your heart melt, and with that, you finally shook off the sleepiness, fully waking up.

"Good morning, Klee," you greeted, still smiling as the Spark Knight hugged you. Now, you had two children keeping you in the kitchen, and the smile on your lips never wavered.

"Klee, you’re going to make her fall," Albedo remarked as he appeared in the kitchen, a faint smile on his lips. His hair was now tied in a low, slightly messy ponytail at the back of his head. "The two of you need to bathe before going out. Klee, why don't you make sure Dodoco gets ready while Durin takes a bath?"

Klee finally let you go, but then... "Are we going to eat pancakes today?" The Spark Knight asked eagerly, her usual energetic tone lighting up the room as she looked at her brother.

Albedo nodded, agreeing on the condition that they both get ready before breakfast. As Klee disappeared to her bedroom, Durin was still clinging to you.

"She's warm... And it's cold outside," he explained, still not letting go. "And smells like you... and vanilla." That last part made you blush, warmth rising to your cheeks as you glanced at Albedo.

"I’ll prepare something with meat just for you, but you need to get ready first, alright?" Durin’s scarlet eyes locked onto yours, as if you were making a promise. After you gently tousled his soft violet hair, he finally let you go and dashed off to the bathroom.

"Just as I imagined," Albedo said, accepting the mug of coffee you handed him, "you’re quite good at this."

You gave a tired but affectionate smile as you took your own sip of caffeine salvation. "So this is what I get for staying the night," you murmured, the warmth of the mug in your hands and the caffeine slowly reviving you. "Your family is pretty... particular."

Albedo moved gracefully around the kitchen, already pulling out ingredients to assist with breakfast. "That’s a fact I cannot deny," he replied in his usual calm tone.

"I still love it," you added, falling into step beside him.

"Excellent," Albedo replied without missing a beat, a rare warmth in his voice, "because you’re already part of it now."

You let out a soft chuckle, brushing a stray lock behind your ear as the two of you moved in quiet sync around the kitchen. There was a peaceful rhythm to it all—the occasional brush of hands, the clink of utensils, and the muffled, joyful chaos of two kids fully awake and alive just a room away.

And in that moment, wrapped in vanilla-scented air, soft laughter, and shared glances—you couldn’t have felt happier with your odd but wonderful little family.

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon: interlude - a tango in barcelona | formula one imagine

interlude: a tango in barcelona

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

dancing around her teammate on and off track, y/n looks to boogie her troubles away.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

may 2020, spain.

life at mclaren hadn’t started the way y/n had hoped. the days were long and surprisingly quiet, the latter mostly due to her teammate and his aversion to acknowledging her existence. she was tired already this weekend and they hadn’t even raced yet.

the barcelona heat was making her race suit stick to her already just walking to the grid for the national anthem. “it’s hot as balls” y/n whined as she slipped between max and george while the choir set up ahead of them.

“oh my sweet summer child, we haven’t even gotten to singapore yet,” max said taking off his ice vest and fastening it to y/n.

“ugh don’t remind me,” y/n wiped more sweat off of her brow, “i think singapore might kill me.”

george laughed, moving his umbrella to the left so it covered y/n as well, “singapore is a baptism by fire, but you’ve done well so far this season so i don’t think you’ll have too hard a time.”

y/n smiled up at the taller brit, “thanks georgie, maybe if you’re such an expert in singapore you’ll be able to catch me.” she punctuated it with a wink, george nearly dropping the umbrella in response.

“do you mind? you nearly took my eye out with this thing!” max hissed at george, flicking the umbrella. george lifted the umbrella to get it out of eye range of the dutchman, who in turn saw it as an invitation to seek refuge in the shade.

“no way verstappen, this umbrella is for pretty people only,” george grabbed y/n’s hand and moved them a couple steps away.

“if that was so, only y/n would be allowed under it beanstalk.”

“if my height is the only thing you can think to insult me about, i can live.”

“oh believe me there’s a lot more stored up, i just wouldn’t want to give you any inspiration for when you take out a backmarker and blame everyone but yourself.”

y/n sighed dramatically, “already? i thought you two were going to cool it down this season. i don’t even understand how you have a rivalry, you’re nowhere near him on track george…” george let out a scandalised squeal, “oh my bad george, you know what i meant.”

“i think what y/n means is that she doesn’t rate you ‘mr saturday’”.

as george went to bite back but the loud horns of the national anthem cut their quarrel off early. y/n fought to keep her laugh in throughout the national anthem, seeing george seething in her peripheral vision. he was so easy to rattle it was practically a pastime of half the grid at this point.

before george could get a dig back in, y/n and max were back in deep conversation, discussing their approach to turn two with just minutes until the formation lap. he yearned to be the one that y/n spilled her tips, tricks and secrets to but like most of his life, the dutchman had beaten him to that honour. now he knew how lando felt.

lando, george and alex had bonded long before 2018, but their three-way title fight in formula two brought them closer rather than forcing them apart. george cherished that friendship, he found it invaluable to have two of his closest friends with him as they entered the cutthroat world of formula one - he just wished he could’ve been that person for y/n.

lando didn’t often articulate it well, but george understood his curly-haired friend’s struggles. lando had gushed all off season about having y/n as his teammate, chatting animatedly about potential roadtrips, shared flights and sleepovers before it was all snuffed out in a moment. george always suspected that lando felt more about their friend than he let on (or thought he let on). once he had thought it was a victim of circumstance, teenage boys discovering what these new hormones were doing to their body did tend to fixate on the one girl in their midst. but as they grew up, that puppy love crush didn’t seem to wain, not that anyone else around them seemed to notice.

a single comment from one max verstappen crushed that. a late night discord call between the rookie trio and max had naturally seen the topic of y/n arise. lando, as usual, started to wax lyrical about the season ahead, with his vision for their teammate relationship constructed in his head.

“mate, we’ve already started.”

“huh?” lando’s voice stuttered over the call, he cleared his throat, “what do you mean?”

“y/n and i,” max continued, “we’ve already started doing sim runs together, watching onboards and all that jazz.” the dutchman said it so casually, unaware of lando’s imminent heartbreak - george’s too, he just hid it better.

“but why? i’m going to be her teammate, not you? why would she even use your sim, she’s racing for mclaren next year not red bull.”

not noticing the path they were hurtling down, max dug his foot in, “no offence lando, but if y/n wants my tips, i’m going to give it to her. it’s noble for you to want to look out for her, but realistically what tips could you give her that are better than mine… i am the only one here who has actually won a race.”

alex loudly coughed, stopping max before he could continue. “it’s getting late, maybe we should call it a night?”

“it’s nine o’clock?” max questioned.

“no, i’m tired,” lando let out an undoubtedly fake yawn, “i think it’s time for bed.”

“okay suit yourselves,” max said, going back to his iracing, “lando, don’t take it too personally that she chose me. we’ve been friends for so long, we don’t know anything but each other.”

“i’ve known her just as long as you!”

it was starting to get a little heated and despite alex and george trying to interject, the two kept going.

“you may have known her just as long, but you don’t know her. we’ve been there for each other at our lowest and our highest. it’s not a competition. i honestly hope she comes to you next season, i don’t trust your team as far i can throw them. it will be good to have someone in her corner.”

“oh well if you’re that magnificent then why can’t you be her white knight all the way from red bull, huh?”

“you know what lando, we’ll talk about this again once you’ve shaken off this weird primal urge you have to ‘claim’ her. a piece of advice, she won’t like that.”

“oh you insufferable little shit-”

“goodbye everyone!” alex interjected, kicking max out of the call.

“what the fuck was that lando?”

“you heard him, posterising, peacocking and then having the gall to say that i’m being territorial over y/n.”

george sighed, his affection for the same girl was going to have to be buried even deeper after this. “max wasn’t peacocking about y/n, lando. if anything he was showing off his wins rather than her,” alex tried to reason.

“no! he can’t let us - can’t let me have anything. it’s always been this way and with y/n it’s like he knows deep down that i want her so he has to have her instead. he’s clinging on to her and shoving it in my face - it’s not my fault he has a shit dad and he attached himself to her because she was the only one not afraid of him - so why am i being punished for it?”

lando’s outburst rendered alex and george silent. the older one was horrified to say the least, the season hadn’t even started and lando’s jealousy was already out of hand.

“lando, that was too far…” alex said softly.

“no! he thinks that because he has a shitty sob story that he can just claim her? she’s her own person!”

“right. i’m going to stop you there before you say something that’ll make me hate you for real. you need to get over what ever the fuck this is so you can be a normal fucking human being next season,” alex tried to reason with lando.

“i am in love with her!”

“are you? or are you in love with the thought of what could happen? have you actually stopped and wondered whether y/n likes you or even likes men? for someone so protective over her, you haven’t considered her feelings too much.”

lando has the foresight to look a little guilty. george stayed silent, he knows alex is suspicious of him too, but that can of worms can wait until another day.

“you need to get a life and calm down. max is one of your best friends and i know deep down you didn’t mean a word you said tonight but you need to get a grip before you say any of that in front of him or y/n because i’m sorry but i won’t be stopping them if they try to hit you.”

lando doesn’t say anything, but the guilty look on his face says enough.

“goodnight.”

the call ended there and was never brought up again. george watched y/n waltz back towards the mclaren garage, a big gap between her and lando. there had been no more outbursts since that night but if what george overheard from daniel, lando had still managed to completely screw himself. was george that angry at that news? not really.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

the race was pretty uneventful, barcelona usually was. y/n started in sixth and managed to pip charles to fifth after ferrari screwed up his pitstop once again. despite her deep love for sangria, y/n didn’t really feel like leaving her hotel room after she had scrubbed all of the sweat and grime off in the shower.

she was pleased with her points haul, smiling to herself in debrief as they analysed lando’s first lap incident with pierre gasly that lando just insisted was no fault of his own…

her ring tone invaded her peaceful evening, the name ‘albono’ flashing up on her phone. pressing accept,

“how can i help you on this fine evening, mr albon?”

“well i find myself in this fine dancing establishment, looked around and thought it was crying out for a little y/n y/ln action.”

“dancing you say?”

“i’m 100% serious, sebastian of all people has dragged also to a bar where they’re attempting to teach us the tango…”

“oh i love the tango! it’s my favourite dance on strictly…”

“so what i’m hearing is that i should get a tequila sunrise in preparation for your arrival?”

y/n sighed, “yes you may.”

“score! i’ll send you the address and an uber. see you soon.”

so there goes her quiet night in, but who wouldn’t love the chance to tango with your close friends in under the stars? and she had packed her little red number… maybe the y/n who packed that suitcase all those days knew something current y/n didn’t.

y/n elected to skip most of her makeup routine, her skin sensitive from all the sweat in her balaclava, swiping on some mascara, lip gloss and a healthy dose of blush. like alex said, the uber was waiting for her outside the lobby.

the outside of the bar looked closer to a college dive bar than somewhere you’d expect to find a group of formula one drivers, but she suspects that’s why sebastian chose it.

“buenes noches senorita,” fernando alonso gave her a spin on entry.

“gracias nando,” she curtsied in front of the spaniard, drawing a laugh out of the elder driver, “i am sorry to cut this short, but i am tired and i fear i have already promised my one dance to another.”

“how will i ever recover?”

“i think you’ll find a way old man.”

“you wound me, but alex is waiting for you by the bar.”

y/n made her way through the bar, spotting several drivers caught up in their dancing lessons from the locals. she tapped alex on the shoulder, with the tall driver turning, wielding her tequila sunrise.

“nice of you to turn up at last,” alex teased, handing her the drink.

“i’ll have you know i was snuggled up ready for some netflix action before you called.”

“you came all this way for a dance with little ol’ me?”

“of course, alex. i have missed you.”

“i have missed you too, the red bull stuff is piling up and i have been neglecting my big brother duties, i’m sorry. not that it seems to be effecting your rookie season too much.”

“don’t worry about me alex, i’m proud of you and what you’re doing at red bull, even if they’re being unreasonably hard on you.”

alex led her to the middle of the dance floor and put one hand on her hip, the other on her shoulder. they started to move to the music,

“i just miss when it was more laidback. i barely have time to stop between sim sessions and media duties and performance meetings. i miss sitting in your driver room laughing at your instagram private messages and watching stupid adam sandler movies.”

alex spun her and as she came back to him she said, “we can still do that alex! you don’t have to be alone, we can still watch adam sandler movies and ignore calls from helmut.”

alex smiled at her as the music slowed down.

“i wish i was here for you more in your rookie season,” alex laments but y/n interjects, “it’s only the fourth race. you’re focused on you and i wouldn’t want anything else. there’s time for us to find our way back to each other. you're a brother to me, like blood, there’s nothing that can destroy that bond.”

“i’m sorry lando is being a prick.”

“it is what it is.”

“no it’s not. we had each other last year, he should be there for you.”

“it’s whatever, i have max, i have you, i’ll survive.”

the music came to an end. the two embraced but when they broke apart y/n started heading for the exit, picking up max on the way through, the dutchman having already booked them an uber. y/n turned and waved to alex, she meant it when she said it was just one dance. she made a ‘call me sign’ and mouthed ‘adam sandler’ before rushing out of the bar with max.

alex turned and made his way to george who was still nursing his first drink at the bar. george didn’t respond when alex prompted him. the thai man nudged george laughing about how ‘y/n knows how to make a short and sweet appearance’ but still got nothing.

“you’re not seriously angry about a tango are you george?”

“no.”

“you’re a terrible liar,” alex whispered, “not as bad as lando but terrible nonetheless.”

“at least i’m not taking it out on her like lando.”

“no, you just use max as target pratice on your dart board for shits and giggles.”

“whatever.”

“fine, deal with it how you wanna big boy, but if you turn out like lando right now, i’ll be down two best friends and up two murder charges.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

fin.

note: my first interlude! @deviltsunoda and i came up with these ideas so i could write shorter things while i have work and you guys still get fed! so enjoy this lil exploration into y/n and alex's friendship (they are so precious to me!) and why lando is being such an asshole... enjoy! the weekend should bring chapter four.

taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998 @xsilkesworld @justaf1girl @daddyslittlevillain @evans-dejong @abq654 @elizamoe133 @wierdflowerpower @t1nkerbel1 @okcurran @raizelchrysanderoctavius @skepvids @multilovebot @fernandoalonso14 @jules-kup-172 @m4xgirlie @rorabelle15 @minkyungseokie @formula1-motogpfan @peterholland04 @miureiz @freyathehuntress @lighttsoutlewis @aleatorio1234 @chaosandevelyn @blueberry648579 @dog-and-cat-person230 @fastandcurious16 @obxstiles @cosmicwintr @becca388510 @savagittariuspy

[viaviavie]

SEEKING DREAMLIGHT | INTERLUDE 1

in which you return to twisted wonderland. welcome back home to the ramshackle dorm, or at least, what became of it in your absence. it certainly welcomes you back. the ghosts have never forgotten that young student that took so much care of this place. its current inhabitants swear you are one of those ghosts, and you are in a way. do not fret alice, wonderland has not truly forgotten you.

SUMMARY: based on disney’s dreamlight valley. years after the ramshackle prefect had left twisted wonderland, former students suddenly find themselves back in night raven college with missing memories and dreams of a magicless student they were supposed to know. an older prefect finally makes a return to a shell of the fantasy you once lived, falling in love once more with what was forgotten.

FEATURING: skully j. graves, ace trappola, deuce spade

NOTES: there actually wasn't going to be an interlude, but if i added heartlsabyul onto here, the pacing doesn't taste well.

[ INDEX ] [ PREVIOUS ] [ NEXT ]

The very moment your feet takes a step outside the Room of Mirrors, this twisted world threatens to steal your breath for good. Heavy as Grim was, nothing could ever compared to how low your heart sank as you see nothing but thorns upon thorns. Much to your relief, it was nothing like shadows that a certain horned housewarden casted over the island. This was something different.

There was no overlooking sense of death this time. Rather, there is only melancholy and emptiness, akin to the exploration of a lost ruin. Vines had overgrown past the concrete and construction, almost swallowing every building hole in its wake. As you walk past the stone pathway, you could only hold your breath as you glance at the Great Seven.

Once polished and prim, now obscured with moss and rust.

Still, you carry on as the direbeast purrs against your neck. It almost astounds you how calm Grim has become. Memories of that hotheaded cat-like beast still runs fresh through your mind, and this is that very same beast on your shoulders. You wonder if he carries the same longing and sadness as you. Grim is a bigger now, more beast-like than feline if anything. Even so, he controls the fire burning from his ears, warming you lovingly as he had so long ago.

And you stare at what remains of the Ramshackle Dorm, seemingly unchanged compared to the rest of this world.

"You actually remember the way home, Henchman." Grim murmured, slitted eyes fixated on the old wooden door. It surprises you to see it untouched by any thorns. The building just looks the same as it did in your faint memories, from its pathway to the creaky window of the bedroom you once lived in.

Welcome home, voices whisper and you don't miss the slight luminescent figures hiding in the chandelier.

You don't expect the door to open itself without resistance, and you don't question it. With furrowed brows, you press your cheek against the grey fur. "Dumb and Dumber, are they here?" You whisper, quietly shutting the entrance behind you. It is dark, save for the sunlight that had filtered its way in through dusty windows.

This wasn't right, you think to yourself as your hand brushes against a dusty side table. The old run-down Ramshackle Dorm, truly befitting of the name. Except, the last time you saw it, it appeared so brand new and taken care of.

You put an end to the thought, feeling a slight pang from your temples the more you forced yourself to remember.

Grim huffed, finally jumping off your shoulder and landing onto a nearby platform. "Somewhere. They're always here somewhere." You narrow your eyes as you follow the direbeast up the rickety stairway. Dumb and Dumber, who could they possibly be? You don't register the way your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, struggling to recall a memory. Once at the top of the stairs, your hand tightly grips the railing as you force yourself forward.

Grim pauses, turning around to look at you with worry. "Henchman? What's wrong?"

You don't remember a thing at all. Something was horribly wrong. You know what those two people meant to you, and yet, you cannot remember it at all. Your nails are unknowingly scraping at the wooden structure, and you crane over as fog begins to overtake your senses.

"Prefect, why?!"

A cry is torn from your throat as you felt a heavy weight knock you onto the floor. Grim scampers onto your torso, baring his teeth towards a shadow creeping up the stairs. "Henchman, get back!" He screeches, and you do not take a moment to rest when you clambered onto the balcony railing. Your eyes are trained onto the stairway as a inky blotted shadow slowly approaches.

Blue flames breath out of Grim's jaws as he growls at the abomination, and you could only stare in awe at the large flames he can spit out. You recall how small those fire orbs were in the past, but now, they can even compare to a true mage's spell.

Alas, the blot does not respond even as it takes damage. It continues to crawl, ignoring the direbeast and only moving closer and closer to you. A hand-like figure is outstretched towards you, and you swear that you can hear it screaming your name.

That was all that took to make you run. Grim is hot on your trail as you make a sprint down the hallway. It is all slowly coming back to you, these halls that you once lived in. The shadow continues to wail, but it lacks the speed to truly catch you. Floors whine and creak with each step you take, and it ceases when you reach a dead end.

All that is left to you is a rusted book resting on a table top and a vase. None of these rooms will not help you, only delay the inevitable. Grim lowers himself onto the floor, ready to pounce onto that blotted monster that had now resorted to pulling itself on the carpet.

"PREFECT."

You choke back a scream of your own as your hand impulsively latched onto the book, throwing it onto the blot to no avail. The book only phases through the monster, and your back is now pressed against the corner. Grim yells at you, but you cannot register his words anymore. Instead, your breath is held in your chest as you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to wake up from this horrid nightmare.

—but the light that glimmered behind the shadow forces your eyes open, followed by a long gloved hand smiting through the monster. It wails, melting into an unrecognizable shape until it is cut in half once more. Your knees buckle as Grim shields you, nails buried onto the rough fabric of the carpet as the blotted monster is reduced to nothing.

In its place was a man with long legs, donned in a suit that never seems to meet its end. Perhaps if he stood at full length, the tuft of his hair could barely brush against the ceiling. His head was cast down, but you don't miss that grin that seems to be missing a tooth. He breaths out a dry laugh, brushing away the inky that seems to have splattered on his dark gloved hands.

He frightens you, and he knew it.

"Oh my! Did I scare you?" The stranger smiles, eyes obscured by the round shades that he wore. Your breath is stolen away as he takes a step forward, and Grim growls so quietly that you swear he is more lion than cat. The direbeast does not deter the long-legged man who had stretched out his hand for you to take.

Maybe it was the haze of exhaustion that suddenly took over you, or your poor judgement, but you find yourself lacing your digits onto his own, dragging your body up. The stranger grins, looking down on you as he bows slightly, pressing your knuckles against his cold chapped lips.

"Who are you?"

And the man's grin falters for a moment, only to be replaced by a content smile. He scares you, but you do not fear him.

"Skully J. Graves," He purrs, pressing his cheek against the warmth of your hand. "How I missed you, my dear."

Skully follows you like your own shadow, except he makes your true shadow appear taller than it should. You do not question his sudden attachment, nor do you address the slight discomfort you feel when he hovers over you as a lamp would while you read.

Grim is suspicious, and he had every right to be when the fellow claims to have met you in a distant past. It doesn't raise a flag for you, however, considering that you can't even recall the faces of those you promised to remember. Skully was the one who saved your life as well, and he didn't seem to have any ill intent at all.

You halt your steps as your eyes are trained onto a familiar door. You remember now as the flickers of a smaller direbeast rampaging through that door replays itself in your mind.

You do not recall ice encasing the doorknob which had been obscured with thorns. Barely brushing your fingertips over the cold substance, you hiss at the sensation.

"Can you melt the ice, Grim?" You ask, only to be replied with an upset whine. "No can do, Henchman. This doesn't look like ordinary ice." Grim's tail curls itself around your leg, tilting his nose up at the frozen doorknob. It drips, trailing from crystalline ice down into an inky puddle. "It's melting ink!" The direbeast hissed, and you shift slightly as the taller man crouched down.

Skully hummed, eyeing the obstacle with piqued curiosity. "How peculiar. The ice is infused with some sort of magic." He muttered, tilting his glasses down so his amber eyes lock onto your worried gaze. He takes a gloved hand to dip at the puddle of blot, much like a child would. "I suppose you will need someone who specializes in fire spells."

You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. You can't imagine that Grim could melt it, and if Skully knew how to, he would have certainly done it by now. "We can come back to this later. I'm sure we can figure this out, somehow." You tell them, crossing your arms. A hand trails over your chin, and you knit your eyebrows in frustration. "But who did this?" The possibility of another person in this world is not lost to you, but the motive is clouded with mystery.

The tall man shrugged, a smile dancing across his dry lips. "I'd imagine someone didn't want that door opened." Your body does not stiffen as he dances his finger tips onto your shoulder, leaning closely into your ear like a tempting devil. "It leaves plenty to the imagination, don't you think?" Your nose crinkles, and Skully chuckles at your plight.

"What could the perpetrator possibly be hiding? A love letter? A dangerous weapon? A body?" Lips twisting into a frown, you whip your head to the side. "Skully!" You whine, all too uncomfortable with the idea of a corpse being on the other side of the door. The skeleton-like man grins, hands in the air as if he were innocent of a crime. "So many possibilities!"

You never even noticed that Grim had long departed from your side, not until you hear footsteps from the first floor.

Grim's voice is echoing and bouncing off the walls. "I'm telling you, the Prefect is here!" He cried out. "Quit your yapping! I heard you the first time!" Your eyes widened, ears registering that familiar voice. You can't even realize that your lips had suddenly curled up into a strained smile, flooded by a hazy memory of mischief. "Grim..." Blue. That voice is blue, and it sounds like clumsy yet gentle hands.

Your legs carry you to the stairway, and

"—tried using every key I could find. Even tried to pick the lock, but it wouldn't budge." Grim yowls in frustration, followed by another man's sigh. "We can try again later."

"Are you not listening to me?!"

You barely catch a glimpse of red hair, and there are two men at the bottom of the stairs. Seeing the standard Night Raven College Uniform seems so uncanny on them, not when their faces had long outgrown their youth. You know them now, and your heart finally stills.

The redhead runs a frustrated hand through his hair, turning around as the direbeast cries for attention. "Grim, look. We'll check the Prefect thing out after a nap, so calm do—" Finally, he sees you at the top of the stairs, along with your wide-eyed expression that had long wormed its way into his heart so long ago.

He looks upon you as if you came from a distant dream.

"Ace," It is your uncertain voice that catches his companion's attention. Quickly now, the dark haired man looks upwards and gasps. That dumbfounded look of his only served to coax a nervous yet warm laugh from you. "Deuce." You whisper, a hand creeping up to your mouth to conceal the way you threaten to cry on the spot.

You remember now—

"Prefect." Ace breathes out, unwilling to believe it is a ghost that called out his name.

"Prefect!" Deuce cried, relief evident in his voice as he rushes up the stairs with reckless steps.

—and so do they.

Unbeknownst to you, the key glows softly within your pocket.

TAGLIST: @jjsmeowthie @deviious @hellfirestarter @thatpersonuouknow @knorreine @nerenda @goths4gambit @ghostlysyntaxed @minkyungseokie @daeda21 @red1sg0n3 @hatsumekannazuki @driftaway27 @alienlatteinspace @michtellch @loyalkatniss

[bonus-links]

dog days part 1 or 2!

por qué no los dos. I kinda consider it one big update anyway lol. this one might get long, I'll stick a readmore somewhere

i was insane for this. the comic will probably never be this decorated again but I had to do it at least once 😂 I try to give each era it's own subtle stylistic flair, though this is definitely the most overt one. I'm still really proud of this update!! sometimes I think I burnt myself out with this so bad tho that the first half of ch2 is pretty low on ornamentation bc of it. it takes like. a lot of extra mental energy ngl

it's slight but this whole interlude has a paper texture the rest of the updates don't :-)

there's lots of patterns to talk about here. twili patterns for the panel where wolf is zoning out.

the pattern on the sides is kind of an abstract depiction of Ordona, although her light orb is in her hands instead of the horns. I was also riffing off the patterns on a lot of the Ordonian's clothes. The green parts are pumpkin vines! those generally represent wolf himself

this is the dinner I reference at grandma's party in pt. 8

the pumpkin vines change into these kind of gold-leafed vines I often use to refer to zelda. They do this a few times throughout the update.

small detail I should include more often- wolf fidgets with his earring when he's bothered by something or thinking hard.

Lots of people have translated this in the reblogs so I won't do it here, but it's essentially a summons from Zelda to the castle. It's intentionally a little difficult to parse- Wolf is not from Hyrule. I like to imagine a difference between written Ordonian and Formal Hylian. Wolf can read it, but it doesn't come naturally. Also, Wolf is referred to as "Sir Link Goatherd of Ordon" where "Goatherd" could be both an occupation and a surname (that's actually the origins of surnames like Gothard, which I considered using)

Zelda's full name in the letter is Queen Zelda Celestia Nohansen Hyrule (though I think I write it as "Of Hyrule"). Idk if this makes sense actually, but it was meant to be a nod to the fact that TP is a parallel timeline to WW. WW had King Nohansen, so I imagine that as part of TP Zelda's lineage.

Wolf agreed to be a Royal Knight on the basis that it was only a formality, but then Zelda started actually summoning him to things anyway. He basically ignores them all, but they've been coming with increasing frequency. In Zelda's defense, the political situation she's dealing with trying to rebuild the kingdom is pretty tense. She could really use his help.

my favorite part of this update!! I feel like there should be no easy way to use the shadow crystal. if you want that power, you've gotta shove it in your forehead yourself! and yes, it does hurt. His ears flatten a little in anticipation. also sidenote I think this is the best I've ever drawn him lol

I like to think Yeto and Wolf are still buds.

I think whenever Wolf wanders like this, he frequently finds himself in the desert. He's given up on looking for shards of the mirror of twilight, though.

The vines get yellow as they reach the bottom of the page- Wolf's time to hide in wolfmode is running out.

little baby spirits of light hidden in this page, except ordona

who's hiding on this page instead! while Link the Cat reminds Wolf it's probably time to go back to his family in Ordon.

Wolf can't turn back into a human on his own, so he has to return to the sacred grove to reach the master sword. And yes, Skull Kid makes him play hide and seek every time 😂

those are midna's hands on either side.

this pattern has the organic shapes of the world of light, rather than the geometric twili patterns, showing that Wolf has immediately clocked that it's not a portal to the twilight realm. but alas, it's too late to turn back.

In terms of the timeline, while Loft and Slate trek across Hyrule to Hateno, Wolf is lost in the Lost Woods.

I wanted to put Ilia in this update more but this ended up being the only time she showed up lol

and that's all I've got! if you read all of this i love u

[bridgetotheskyyy]

Yuta; Public Sex

a/n: yuta and reader fuck in paris that's it lmaooo. 18+ only. Est relationship, reader's a horn dog lmaoo. wc 1.1k

Kinktober Masterlist

“Surprise!”

You whipped your head around, the voice familiar — too familiar — to be ignored.

“Yuta?”

Yuta’s smile lit up the Parisian night as you gawked at his mere presence. “Well, surprised?”

You flung into his arms with a squeal, becoming a spectacle for the people who breezed past the two of you on the sidewalk. “How did you manage to get here?”

Yuta explained, but you barely heard. It was just supposed to be a brief interlude in his time in Africa. It took Miguel some convincing. Yuta thought it’d be nice, romantic. Blah blah. You were too happy to care. 

“Maybe we should find a hotel,” Yuta said, grazing an adoring finger over your cheek. “So we can catch up?”

You smiled, deviancy overcoming reason as you pulled Yuta by his sleeve into an unbusied alleyway, unbothered by the legions of people leaving the party you’d just attended.

“Hm?” Yuta blinked. “He — Hey! What are you doing?”

You licked your lips, the months gone without seeing Yuta beginning to dawn on you as your eyes swept over his frame. “Why wait?”

Your meaning registered and Yuta’s face ran red. He glanced back at the sidewalk, the car seated on the narrow street. “But — but —“

“Don’t be such a worry-wart.” You knew the location was odd, but it was thrilling, the danger adrenalizing you

“It’s not that I’m not intrigued,” Yuta said, and you had to suppress a holler of delight. Yuta was just as kinky as you were, if not more. You wouldn’t be surprised to reach down and find a growing bulge tenting his pants at the thought. 

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t thought about taking me in public,” You said. “C’mon.” Yuta sucked in a breath as you pressed against him, dangling your lips dangerously close to his. “Yu-Yu. For me?”

Yuta’s eyes darkened at the pet name. Bingo.

Nice. Romantic. And apparently it was, because the next thing you knew Yuta had you pressed against the wall, hard body keeping you suppressed there while he humped his impressive tent into the valley of your thighs.

“Missed you,” he rasped. “Missed you so much …”

You left wet, lingering kisses on the gorgeous column of his neck. “I know …” Yuta let out a moan when you ran your flat tongue across his Adam's apple, withdrawing only to attack his throat with teeth. “I missed you, too.”

“Say it again,” he begged, a hand cupping your ass, groping the soft flesh there. His previous compunctions about being seen — or heard — seemingly abandoned as his hips bruisingly buck into yours. “Say it again, please.”

You sunk your hand into his sweatpants, fishing for the perfect cock that was rightfully yours. “Yu-Yu …”

Yuta rewarded you with a moan, another harsh buck into your hand. 

Your fingertips grazed his ballsack, the gesture positively come-hither, and you felt Yuta shiver around you. How easy it was to make him come apart. How you loved him. 

“You’re so cute, Yu-Yu.” You brushed a finger against his cockhead. “Want me to jerk you off, make you come right here?” You asked before nibbling into his neck, stroking the cock viced in your palm. 

“No …” Yuta moaned out, lurched over you, hands pressed into the brick of the wall as he rutted into you. He was a good foot taller than you; his presence overwhelming. “Wanna come inside you — please — nrgh —“

Despite the begging, Yuta reached under your skirt and pushed your panties aside, bathing his fingers in the wet of your folds. 

“Na — haa! Yuta!”

“So wet already,” Yuta rocked into your trembling hand. “And yet I’ve hardly done anything …”

You released his cock, doing what you could to suppress your writhing. You pulled his trousers and boxers around his thighs. You squeezed his forearm between your thighs to try and stop him. It wouldn’t do for his long, talented hands to play with your pussy. He wasn’t alone. You didn’t want to come until he was inside you, until he was the one to do it.

Yuta kissed you. You sighed, running your tongue over his. All the while too distracted to detect Yuta gripping his cock — until you felt his cockhead circle your tight hole. 

“Mmf!” 

Yuta buried himself inside you. Your head thudded against the wall as you took his huge cock. Yuta groped at your breast through your flimsy cami, fondling the tit while he thrust into you. All before growing tired of the distance between his hand and your skin and tugging your top down. Thankfully braless, his hand married with your tit again, trapping a nipple between two fingers.

You squealed when he bottomed out. “Oh, fuck.” This was undoubtedly your favorite part about bringing Yuta to his limits. His aggressive thrusts never failed to take you by surprise. For such a demure gentleman, he had no problem bullying your pussy like this — his cockhead knocking into your cervix as though intent to drill itself through. Or maybe it was the desperation grown out of distance that made him so particularly feral this time.

“So good …” Pants nearly pooled around Yuta’s ankles, his hips snapped into you, again and again. You saw him gaze down a second before his hand drifted south to tease your clit. “So good …”

You were delirious, back smacking into the wall with each powerful thrust. 

“Fu — fuck!” You grabbed hold of Yuta’s shoulders at the sound of approaching footsteps. “Yuta — I — someone’s coming —“

“I don’t care,”  Yuta replied, husky admission a brief interlude from the kisses he left on your skin. It was worthless to attempt to warn him anyway; if he was willing to fuck you this ferociously knowing he could be seen then the prospect of being seen would only spur him on farther. Yuta hiked your leg leg up over his shoulder to pound you more efficiently. “Let them see. You’re so beautiful …” Yuta’s words blew heated and hurried in your ear. “You’re mine …”

You let out a moan, too loud for comfort. Yuta’s tight circles over your clit, combined with the unrelenting bullying of his cock inside you, kept the meat of your attention. Even as a group of people passed by in your periphery, you only closed your eyes, hands running over your boyfriend’s back as he brought you closer to the edge.

Yuta’s drawn-out groan, how he buried his face in your neck, was how you knew he had come to his end. Knowing Yuta was painting your walls white with his spent, still fucking you through his own orgasm, using you, was enough to send you coming along with him. His mouth came over yours before a harpy-esque scream could escape. You clenched down around him, the pleasure centered in your clit painful.

Yuta slumped against you. You were sure your embrace around him was the only thing keeping him vertical. 

“I guess this is the story,” You began breathlessly, petting his raven-black hair, “of how my boyfriend was okay with us getting banned from visiting Paris ever again.”

“Hm …” Yuta kept you hanging for a proper reply for some time. Then: “Maybe.”

You snorted as he withdrew to give you space to rearrange your clothing. “If they catch us.”

[joshsilverseyebrow]

a closer look/translation of this josh silver magazine snippet!

translation (or if you just don’t wanna zoom in lol):

As California crumbles after another massive quake, a mother learns her son lives dead among the rubble of an apartment building, and the camera never stops rolling.

Tears and anguish captured. like a zoo animal, to be watched and witnessed repeatedly-just one scene in a videotape chronicle of human suffering.

Three thousand miles away,

Andrea Elston finishes a full back plece of Satan flanked by pillars of masterbating demons. Her canvas is Type O Negative keyboardist Josh Silver, a man whose body is as much a record of death as a five o'clock newsreel.

"People are obsessed with what they have to come to terms with," says Silver.

Dying doesn't frighten him, but it absorbs him. And just as death is at once beautiful and horrific, compelling and repellent, mysterious and yet familiar, so is the art adorning his upper body—a testimony to his great obsession.

A circa 1940s grim reaper design inked 16 years ago by Brooklyn Bill keeps company with a Japanese death character (Mike Perfetto, Brooklyn) and tribal death rows inked by Huggy Bear as a memorial to an older brother who died when Silver was ten. Two giant roses on the back of his left arm are also dedicated to his bro.

The "eclectic nightmare" of his right sleeve is composed of a skull of wings, a skull with horns and a grim reaper cover piece among other non-death-related works, including the requisite Type 0 Negative symbol.

Ah, yes, the band. Art imitates art as T.O.N., straying from the full metal anger shrouding first release Slow, Deep, and Hard, seems to have dipped into the psychedelic "color thing with eyeball" creeping up Sliver's shoulder for the second full-length album, Bloody Kisses.

Type O Negative delivers their original metaledge with a Sixties pop sensibility, as they address accusations of misogyny, racism and fascism with songs entitied "Kill All the White People, -We Hate Everyone" and

"Machine Screw.”

As co-producer, Silver was able to soak this third release (EP Origin of the Feces was released in 1992) with the sweat of his own demons-

not all of which are

death-centered. The cloaked, cloven-hoofed skeleton figure (George Belew, Leguna Beach) representing Silver's fear of prison is like the

"bad acid trip" interludes connecting the songs on Bloody Kisses: seemingly unrelated but essential to the overall concept.

For Silver, the concept is bitter, brutal and a constant reminder that the purpose of recording history in any medium-be it video, CD, or the human body, is to remember… and not to regret.

[mtx-lol]

rare instance of me being actually really happy with a design

actually gonna word vomit about it;

this came to me the mili, picosecond ive finished colouring the third redesigns which is now completely out of a date of ever seeing the sun so have fun mulling over that lol .

anyways so basically, ive discovered this technique of limiting to 3 or 2 themes for each character, to which i built apon with an overall theme for the whole media and have it paired up with the characters individual theme. ive decides to try for a more flexible or abstract dressing theme for tam, being duality since yknow her hybrid species/transitioning species kinda thing (in hindsight it shouldve been asymmetry but whatevs), the rest was roadsigns and scout.

originally it was going to be a flower, then it was going to be melded skulls and roses but just decided on a skull, the back of her head was a weak resemblance of this broken solar panel thing ? still dont know, but it was cool; this was supposed to be an attempt at symbolism of her trying to weaponise her unique kind of loneliness, being a hybrid and having unconventional origins in the sense of her childhood and the abyssals, trying to replicate a dishonering danger with the horns coming out as well, stabbing away any approachers. the weird cut snout with teeth was supposed to be the top half of a mouth but i thought it would be funnier if it was more a collector showcase base for her weird teeth collection fixation, all from the underground visits john used to take her with when she wasnt older and sicker, a rare interlude of her bleak-less worldview and dull colours.

the spikes on the skull is actually sharpened loose metal from railings, poles, machines, etc, and she uses to have more but she snapped them off when the gun jammed. its meant to be a transition from the skull to the metal plate and was meant to replicate the more grandiose version in my head.

idk if i ever properly explained the diamond earing on her left side but its an earing that john will be shown wearing and he decided to give to her as part of his family, but due to her massive fears of her ears being ripped off with it or with anything (headcanons will be supplied, soon enough), she decided to add it to her hat, which is funny because i was going to pierce her with chains but it wouldve been a) too heavy and b) reminded me too much of this guy in secondary school math class who publicly announced his thought of putting a pencil between a earring hoop, so. (sorry)

also the necklace is a variation of johns that she tried to replicate in her own style, idk if that was obvious but john is her biggest reason of and for life.

what else, uhh the yellow tape around is meant to diverage anyones attention from her face or her in general, yknow, 'look down, look away' likes shes shy guy or smthin. its her anxieties, her self-consciousness she tries to comfort with a shield of fear projected onto others, its also a self-poke like 'this girl right here is a CRIME SCENE!!!'

the weird thing over her shirt is supposed to be a ripped version of the shirt she used to wear in earlier versions, a sign of shifting unrecognisablility, breaking out yet still clinging onto the puzzle pieces for a cocoon that kept you safe in the first place. she knows shes tam, not traviler, but something in her wants tomorrow to be the day the hat is over her eyes and the trench coat is the amber touch of anyone she loved. its a drastic, dramatic life change that cant magically happen overnight, shes 22, but theres always a lingering, loose ended however.

uhmmm, she has many belts that i wanted to make into a loose replica of rock climbing belts because i think she really really really really rwalyh REALLY likes climbing up and away but i thought it would be funnier (common pattern realised) if she didnt know that rock climbing is a real profession or that she'd always would do it too tight or loose so she just gave up.

the saws came as an afterthought from this pin and i was like "whaf if she wash bug" but then i realised if i added in another theme i would have to restart and it would be over complicated AGAIN so i just did it with saws because she nearly got her head cut off by a saw and also like a little nod to her HORRENDOUS sitting positions like she would never sit straight, its either upside down, down on the side, manspreading like its a dentist appointment or 6-2 legs on the floor its quite queer of her.

elsewhere, uhhhhh, one of her makeshift shoulder pads was supposed to resemble the wings of an animal like how i originally drew her necklace but like, i kept on forgetting and kept trying something else until i just replicated the other one with less details, nothing smart i just thought it would fit her (no melted keys, she doesnt like stabbing herself anymore)

anything else...........she has a fang........ uhhh....she ripped off the oversleeves as a get back from the guy who took played with a chain on her hat while she was half awake or smthin idk still hasnt fleshed it out properly........ she is the worlds renowned owner of the most split ends (and she will finger brush through all of the knots with pride god damnit).........uhhhshe doesnt looking at mirrors.......ive made a fanfic about that....i may have realised i have a weird sense of aesthetic attraction to her.....this is a repost cuz i didnt like how little it was but now i have ensnared myself in only 2 doodles per canvas.......i am very irresponsible about my storage space but what else is new....... tam appeared right before me in my dreams................ i have taken 20 screenshots of the updated lore document of the transcribed conco between her john........ yeah thats it

theres probs more ive missed or havent come up with but thats enough words for today,

if you actually soaked in everything ive read um thanks, watch this be outdated within 3 days or hideaway makes me hide away all of my headcanons that has been conjured since december.

k byeeee

[budgies-with-pencils]

A (maybe) Comprehensive List of everything we know about the diner crew visually

I MAY BE MISSING STUFF. If you find anything for me to add comment! :^]

Also this is NOT meant to police anyone's designs. My designs don't follow any of this half the time. I just thought it'd be fun.

DINER CREW:

-Gloria doesn't wear makeup much [Farmhouse]

-Gloria is mexican [Duh]

-Gloria is a “tiny Spanish woman" according to Caspar [Chaos!]

-Ava is "stronger than she looks" [Big, Malevolent Thing]

-Leif has some variety of Facial Hair [Transdimensional Haboob]

-Caspar is white as hell [This is obvious emotionally, but Sheep?]

-The Mucklewains are canonically hot. [Farmhouse]

-The Mucklewains look like an "Alt-Country Duo" according to Gloria [Farmhouse]

-Zebulon does not have a mustache [Welcome to the Horizon (MB, not the miniseries)]

OTHER MAJOR CHARACTERS:

-Clementine has red hair. [several episodes]

-Clementine is, in this universe, the reference for the painting "Woman with Red Hair" by Amadeo Modigliani. This also implies that Terric, at some point, looked like painter Amadeo Modigliani, as he mentions he painted it. [Brunch]

-Ex looks, and I'm quoting directly here, "like some sort of things nerds masturbate to" [Pockets]

-Kazi's eye color changes frequently [Three Sisters]

-Kazi "Has a claw". You apparently don't want to see it. [Three Sisters]

-Kazi white as a ghost" [Three Sisters]

-Teta is incredibly tall, and has large horns [Welcome to the Triad]

-Libusa is "older than she looks" [Three Sisters]

-Libusa is bright yellow [Three Sisters]

YOUNG LEIF:

-BertBert is not a fish [Segius]

-BertBert does not have bangs [Interludes: Vela]

-BertBert has a "muscular Frame" according to Leif. [Nancy]

-Bertbert is blue [Welcome to the Triad]

-Verge looks mostly human apart from "Two Things" (one thing likely being the arms.) [The Wayfaring Stranger]

-Verge has a tattoo on their arm of all the bounty hunters they've killed. As of this episode, it has four lines [Escape from Moog]

-Verge has an extra set of arms they keep hidden [Welcome to the Triad]

[linkons-most-wanted]

Dragon's Vale

Cosmic Interlude Ch 20

When past memories bear future warnings…

Sylus's dreams bring childhood memories.

A valley of verdant green winds between craggy mountains that slumber like massive cousins to the small grouping of dragons now lounging in the waving grass. I kneel by the river, blooms of crimson drifting into the water from my hands, from the drops that slide down my head and drip from my jaw. At least the bloody, gruesome reflection doesn’t have any horns. I dash my hand in the water to scatter the image, grimacing at the pain that still radiates through my skull and down my spine. There’s a noise of something hard on gravel behind me, and a spiky purple Protocore rolls down the bank and bumps into my leg. I ignore it. “Eat,” commands the deep, guttural voice of the massive emerald dragon. “That’s not what humans eat,” I say, bitterness in my tone. Ever since these horns and this tail sprouted, the tubers I dig up and cook by the fire satisfy my hunger less and less. Already, it gnaws at my gut despite my recent breakfast. Only the Protocores, crushed near my heart and eagerly absorbed by my nascent power, leave me feeling sated. But consuming them always makes the horns and tail grow back faster. “Then starve.” The massive dragon stretches, then settles down against the sun-warm stones near the river.

Read on AO3

A/N: it's dragon headcanon time, baybeeee. Three chapters of it, in fact. (Don't worry, we'll be back to Monaco. But, y'know. Dramatic tension or something.)

[wulvercazz]

🎃Halloween Town, Baby Interlude🦋🍼

Back to Masterpost👻

Isshin felt an anxious breath drop from his lungs the minute the child started to cry, safe, alive; and not at the cost of Grimmjow’s wellbeing. Or, not anymore, at least. When it became clear that a natural birth (as natural as this could be) was simply out of the question, both the child and the witch threatening to fade out of reach, Isshin made the choice to cute through, instead. A little ‘trick’ he’d learned from humans themselves in his young years, when following his passion for treating illnes tool him as far as the next dimension. To anyone born in Halloween all this would already be several levels of traumatic; but for a human, under the influence of body-modifying spells and in a situation that went south so fast, Isshin expected Grimmjow to be in hysterics. To resent the child, or even Ichigo– however accidental his involvement may have been. “You don’t have to see him, if you don’t want to.” He reassures, pressing the crying child to his chest. But with a pale semblance and tired breaths, Grimmjow shook his head weakly and raised his arms however much he could, “n-no, I want to–” “Sure,” he simply agreed, and brought the whimpering little bundle close to the witch’s body, settling him carefully for Grimmjow to see. Contemplative silence filled the room, Isshin staying close in the possibility that the witch may change his mind and decide he wants nothing to do with a child not of his blood, created a situation such as this. He’d understand anger, even disgust. “He is–?” Grimmjow mumbles as a sort of question. “Lepidoptera, yes–” “Really Ichigo’s.” His breath hitches, in surprise, maybe shame; “yes.” He simple affirms after a little pause. “Shouldn’t he get to meet him too?” “Yeah, he should.” And without a nother word, he retrieves his son; who’s actually near hysterics himself. Ichigo shuts the door behin him with a soft, hurried, click, and only after Grimmjow reassures him half a dozen times that he’s okay now, damnit, and would feel even better after a little rest, do the words start to really spill out of him mouth. “I-I’m sorry- fuck- I’m sorry,” the prince leans on his hands at the edge of the be, to get a closer look at the human’s face; to ‘asses’ the damage like he has any medical knowledge like his father does. “I should’ve realized Aizne was after you– I- I should have allowed him to involve you in his shit.” “I don’t know, … this little guy looks an awful lot like you.” Grimmjow interrupts with a rough voice, bleeding with amusement until the corners of his mouth turn into a little smirk. And the prince’s apologies die in his mouth, his dark eyes widening as he finally dares to cast a glance down to the little boy; gasping under his breath at the sight of bright yellow eyes curiously squinting at the space around him. “I don’t remember anything at all about that night, Aizen made sure I wouldn’t,” Grimmjow says softly, word starting to blur together in exhaustion, “but that works fine for me. He sort of feels… like our baby…” Ichigo stares at Grimmjow’s sleeping form for a whole minute after the last word was quietly mumbled out of his lips; his heart beating hard against his ribcage along with things he didn’t want too dissect just yet. So he focuses on the little child’s face, the fluffy tuft of thin fur on his chest that’s entirely moth, like the wrinkled little wings that have slowly started to straighten out on their own; but also on the odd swirl of ginger on his head. The tiny nubs where horns would surely develop soon and the tight hold Grimmjow’s kept even now that sleep has taken over him. But that wouldn’t last long, when far outside the castle a howl shook the trees; he growled under his breath looking out into the forest when Aizen’s home hid, but stopping short when a tiny whimper chased after him. “S-sorry kiddo,” he cooed at the boy, “there's something I gotta do.”

[literatureatthebowofnails]

A/N: Looking forward to your feedback

Series masterlist

Pairing: Loki x reader

Summary: Your first trip to Asgard

Warnings: Vomiting, fluff, angst

You land on Asgard, clutching Loki's arm in a death grip. Your nails dig into the black leather of his jacket, knuckles white as you fight to keep down your breakfast.

At Loki's other side, Steve Rogers grasps Thor's shoulder to steady himself. Beside you, Director Fury stands almost entirely still, the only sign of movement a slight flapping of his coat.

"Welcome to..."

"I'm going to be sick," you cut off the gatekeeper, releasing Loki and running to spill the churning contents of your stomach off the bridge.

You look up and see a grand procession approaching from further down, their guilded armor bright in the morning sun. Leading the group are four warriors: a stunning dark-haired woman, a blonde with a charming grin, a stout soldier sporting wild facial hair, and an overly serious crusader.

You wipe your mouth, feeling better but still unsteady on your feet as you return to the circular chamber. "Sorry," you mutter.

"Don't worry about it," Steve says. "I was a mess on my first visit."

"Um, thanks." You don't really believe him.

"I am Heimdall," the golden god continues, unfazed by your interlude. "Gatekeeper of Asgard, protector of the Bifrost, and seer of all things."

At this point, the entourage arrives. "May I present Lady Sif, the Warriors Three and the Einherjar," Thor makes your introductions, noting that Rogers and Fury are already acquainted with the leaders.

Three horses are presented for your journey to the palace. You perch nervously at the front of your saddle, grasping the horn for dear life. Loki swings up gracefully behind you and reaches around to control the reigns.

"It's alright, darling," he coos, wrapping an arm snuggly about your middle. "Nótt is steady and true. He will deliver us safely, I guarantee it."

You take a breath, trying not to shudder or look beyond the bridge. "It's my first time."

"And you're doing splendidly," he hugs you closer and you begin to relax as you watch Steve cling to Thor's waist.

Fury kicks his steed to a trot, joining Hogun at the head of the group.

☕

The five of you gather in an antechamber, preened and swathed in Asgardian finery. Rogers and Fury are called first, leaving to greet the court. After some time, you and Loki are announced.

He takes your hand, placing it around his arm before entering the grand golden hall. You walk side by side down the long aisle to the throne. Loki's steps are assured, his pace steady, honed jaw set in determination. The crowd claps respectfully, their observance subdued, even hesitant.

You reach the stairs below the throne and bend in a nervous curtsy. The prince gives his father a minimal bow; enough to show the necessary respect, but not a hair more.

"My son," Odin addresses Loki. You watch as his lip gives a slight twitch of irritation. "Welcome home."

"Father," comes the strained reply.

He then turns to the stately woman on your left. "Mother," he greets with a warm smile.

The queen comes to bestow a kiss on each of her son's cheeks. "It's so good to have your home." She turns to beam at you. "And you must be the gracious lady my sons speak so highly of!"

Loki provides your name and you exchange pleasantries with his parents before standing beside the queen, opposite Steve and Fury.

"Thor Odinson!" the herald bellows, followed by a roar of cheers and clapping from the crowd. The crown prince swings his hammer around, eliciting further excitement. You give Loki's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Father! Mother," Thor greets as he approaches, kneeling before the throne. "It has been too long."

"Too long indeed," Odin beams with pride for his first born. "I fear that if it were not for these mandatory check-ins, I we would never see you."

"I was here only a month ago," Thor's brows draw together in confusion before he brightens like a lightbulb. "Loki and I will make a point to visit more often." The dark-haired bother exhales a measured breath beside you. You doubt he plans to follow though with that promise.

☕

While the king reviews his youngest's contributions to Earth's safety, Queen Frigga invites you to tea.

Guiding you along a winding garden path, the matriarch asks how you and Loki are settling into your new space. She listens with interest to the explanation of your minimalist design preferences and methods taken to assimilate his more extravagant leanings.

Eventually you reach a grand birch tree. Beneath it sits a table set for two. A tiered tray boasts bite size sandwiches, petits fours, fruit, and madeleines. Small jars of curd, cream, jam, and honey surrounded it, with a heaping plate of scones and large pot of tea to complete the spread.

"I'm impressed to hear how well you collaborate with my youngest," Frigga comments as she pours your tea. "He's not always the most amiable, but he's unfeigned when it comes to you."

You smile, adding cream to cool your steaming china cup. "I think people rely too much on first impressions. Though impulsively acting superior when he feels insecure doesn't exactly help matters."

The queen nearly spills her tea, covering a smile. "That's quite an astute observation."

As your meal comes to a close, Loki appears. "I take it you're becoming better aquainted?"

"We are indeed," Frigga confirms. "I'm so glad you've finally introduced us."

"Mother," Loki smiles, "you know you're always welcome to visit Midgard."

"Maybe we should make a formal invitation?" you suggest.

Your trio walks slowly back to the palace, discussing potential opportunities for the king and queen to visit New York. A pattern forms with Loki suggesting inconsequential dates, and Frigga being forced to "remind" him they're during occasions that require the Alfather's presence onworld.

Tags in comments because I got trigger-happy posting this one 😆

Before you part ways, Loki stops a passing servant and requests they show you to his chambers, noting he requires a moment alone with his mother. You say your goodbyes to the queen until supper and her son assures he'll join you imminently.

Next Chapter

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[oneknightstand-if]

Helping Hand (Interlude Broderick)

"Stop helping!" Broderick snarled at the two people lurking in his shadow as he sweated like a pig beneath the hot afternoon sun. He tucked a few damp tendrils of his hair beneath his baseball cap as a tractor trailer blasted past in a loud hoot of horns and diesel exhaust.

The RV was parked in a wild zigzag along the shoulder of the highway, its hood rolled back and still faintly steaming from its recent efforts.

Most of the group brainlessly ambled around the outside of the now stationary motorhome, along the parched grass at the side of the road, periodically stopping to stare like yokels with their mouths gaping open, asking questions like "Can you fix it?" or "Should we call an RV repair shop for help?" (The answer there is YES!) or "Oh god, I feared for my life!".

The last not being a question, but a sensible reaction to what just happened.

Broderick's turn to get tortured courtesy of the voting peeps at Patreon. ლ(ಠ益ಠლ) Available on the Riders of the Apocalypse Groupie tier (and above) on my Patreon.

[lisbeth-kk]

Enamoured With Poetry

Fluffbruary Day 16. Promtps: aquamarine- impress - interlude

Tremulous Breath

Summary: Holmes called it an interlude. Watson called it a hiatus. It was time to take the bull by the horns, which would probably hurt.

@fluffbruary @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @helloliriels

@meetinginsamarra @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler @topsyturvy-turtely @jolieblack

@221beloved @ninasnakie @shy-bi-letsfuckingdie @7-percent @lhrinchelsea

@peanitbear @bs2sjh @brandiwein1982 @meandhisjohn @a-victorian-girl

@missdeliadilisblog @salmonsown @oetkb12 @jawnscoffee @gay-ass-bitch

@acumberlockedgirl @willamholmeswatson @whatnext2020 @mydogwatson @redmondcollege

@thegildedbee @ilovegayangels @elizabethhood @xmengal03 @riversong912

@givemesherbet-blog-blog @couldbecannibal @2old2b-fangirl @dw91165 @jonkwatson

@binx72 @macgyvershe @raina-at @dragoonthegreatest @kholkate

@fookincarrotsandpotatoes28 @talkativeanxiousturtle @aloeverawrites @ch0s0lvr

(Tell me if you want to be tagged or removed from the list)

[the-font-bandit]

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In The Gentle Hands of Death

Emmrich x Rook Fanfiction Dragon Age the Veilguard

1100 words in Chapter 6 (of 8) (20,100 total so far)

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags: Pining, Porn with Feelings (mild tho), Veilguard Spoilers, Lich Emmrich, Emmrich x Rook

Description: A short interlude from Emmrich's POV as he and Rook further explore their physical relationship after his lichdom.

Notes: Mostly sweet, but there is a bit of spice. If the Lich Emmrich vibe is not your thing, this chapter can feasibly be skipped.

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Chapter 6

Emmrich should have left Rook in bed, let her sleep while he found ways to fill the time that slumber once would have taken. But he couldn't bear to stray from her side. 

Ever since the lich rites, worry had plagued him. 

Had he made a mistake?

Oh, Rook had been acting like everything was perfectly fine. Like nothing had changed. But how could that be true?  He did possess a mirror, and he knew how the rest of Thedas viewed the dead, outside Nevarra. They did not respect the remains left behind, remains such as those he now occupied. 

Even among Nevarrans, some of those outside the Watchers still felt uneasy when visibly confronted with reminders of their mortality. 

How could Rook possibly be unconcerned?

She stirred in her sleep, muttering something incomprehensible and curling against him. In the past when she'd done so, sometimes her horns would dig into the skin of his shoulder, but there was no skin left.

He wouldn't pretend it had been an easy transition for him, either. It was remarkable, that much was true. To be held together by the wonders of the Fade, a construct of magic and life and death. 

The world looked strange, felt strange. But Rook… she was his anchor. The thing that made sense in all of it, an axle upon which his world pivoted.

And against all odds, she remained at his side.

Right now, the woman he adored more than anything was warm and soft against him, snoring ever so slightly as she was wont to do.

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Read more of Chapter 6 on AO3 here

or start at the beginning here