#Little bears art trades

[littlebear1537]

ART TRADE - Cas, Val, Thea, & Sam

ART TRADE FOR @decoloraa !!!!

BRIGGS GANG BRIGGS GANG BRIGGS GANG

Thea finds Sam in their bear form (not knowing it's them) but wants to adopt them - And obviously the gay dads of Briggs are there!!!

THIS WAS A LOT OF FUN TO DRAW!!!

[hellspawnmotel]

terranigma, a cool game

[dark-and-kawaii]

⋆˙⟡ A Bath With The Devil ⟡˙⋆

*ੈ Summary: Raphael comes to find you hidden away with the crown of Karsus, he see's how this battle has worn you down, the blood on your hands evidence of how you put up a good fight. He decides to reward you with a bath, because what's better than a relaxing evening? A relaxing evening with the devil you've come to love.

ੈ Pairing: Raphael x F!Tav/Reader

ੈ Content: Slight NSFW - Comfort - Raphael Being Raphael - Bathing With The Devil - Soft Yet Possessive Raphael

ੈ Notes: A lovely little story I wrote for @octarinecat for our art trade. I hope you all enjoy this piece as well as i hope she enjoys it xoxo

Your body was sore, aching as if every muscle in it had been put to the test. Every time you shifted even the tiniest bit, you would be wracked with pain that made you groan and grit your teeth. All this suffering, and for what? What could be worth it, that would make you want to bear the pain?

Slowly, your eyes opened, and your gaze focused on a familiar object… The crown of Karsus, resting on a table beside the bed you laid in. It was a strange, eerie sight to behold, a relic of the past, the thing so many lost their lives and souls for. You blinked a few times, clearing your vision and focusing on the crown more clearly… You truly wondered if it was as dangerous and powerful as everyone thought it was, or just an ordinary piece of jewelry that was just cursed.

Sitting up from the bed, you got up and walked towards the window, your eyes never leaving the crown- afraid of what might happen should you leave it unattended. 

Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you took a deep breath, hoping for a moment of peace. But then, you heard it- the chime that had become all too familiar to you. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know who it was. The devil you’ve come to know, Raphael.

“My my, what quarry has the fox come to claim, I wonder? A timid mouse, secreting away a treasure, meant for the fox's taking?” You could feel how his chest pressed against your back, a comforting warmth seeping into your very being. Ever so slightly, your lips parted as a silent invitation, welcoming him into the sanctuary of your body.

“But at what cost?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he reached around you, his fingers tracing up your arm before grabbing your hand softly. He lifted it to get a better look at your blood stained hands, the evidence of your struggle obtaining the crown for him.

There was a pause, a moment where neither of you moved, before finally, you felt the warm, wet glide of his mouth, pressing against your neck. His hand never leaving yours, “You did well, my little mouse, to obtain such a crown for me. You deserve a reward.”

Raphael’s fingers curled tighter around your own, his other hand finding its way around your waist as he held you firmly against him, “Come.”

The dimly lit room was replaced by a secluded area in the midst of a forest. A wooden tub stood at the center, filled to the brim with steaming water, ready to welcome you.

With his much larger hand still resting within yours, the devil guided you towards the tub. The warmth of the water was inviting, and you swore you could feel the tension in your body begin to ease just at the sight of it.

“This seems very unlike you, Raphael. I thought this was too quaint for your tastes, and far too mundane.” You remarked, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice as you turned to face him, a coy smile on your lips.

He gave you a smile in return, but it was different from his usual, condescending one. It was softer, almost warm- a stark contrast to his usual demeanor, “Where I agree, this is still far too quaint for my tastes, this adversary, this devil- desires only the finest and most exquisite of treasures. And the best requires a certain measure of tenderness, of indulgence, of devotion, do they not?”

You could feel a heat rise in your cheeks at his words, and the way his voice seemed to send shivers down your spine. Your breath- it caught in your throat as you tried to speak, all you could do was nod as he released your hand. His fingers slowly working at the buttons on his doublet, before he slid it off his shoulders, his eyes never leaving yours. 

You watched as the fabric slid down his surprisingly toned form, before falling to the ground, a pool of cloth at his feet. As he moved to undo his tunic-

“Here, let me…” You were surprised by your own forwardness, Raphael said nothing, allowing you to undress him.

The devil looked at you curiously, a glimmer of something flashing in his eyes as your hands made work of the laces on his tunic.

Soon his own hands found their way beneath your lightly padded armor, removing it slowly, teasingly, before he tells you, "Turn." His hands traveling lower until they hooked within your pants, pulling them down your bruised legs, his lips ghosting along one of your thighs...

Once you were both bare, he helped you into the tub, the warm water washing over your skin. You let out a soft sigh of content, the feeling was heavenly, especially after the hardships you endured for him.

After a moment, Raphael joined you, the water rising with the added weight. He took his place behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, the contact making your heart beat rapidly in your chest.

With his legs on either side of you, Raphael pulled you against his chest, his head resting on your shoulder. One of his hands traced lazy circles on your skin, while the other rested on your stomach, his thumb brushing gently back and forth.

“You say this is my reward... Or are you just trying to butter me up so you can kill me while my guard is down and take the crown? If so, you could have just done that. You don't have to go through all this trouble. I don't have any power over you at the moment, Raphael.”

His hold on you tightened, his fingers digging into the flesh of your stomach, making wince slightly, “If I had any intention of ending your life, I would have done it the moment we met.” He growled, “Instead, I find myself fond of you, longing to feel you close and by my side as I weave together the nine hells. Now relax.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting yourself relax into his chest. It wasn't long before he started to recite a poem, his voice low. It was calming, soothing. You couldn't help but wonder if this is how he sounded when he sang- you could easily listen to him for hours, just like this. With the sound of snap you saw how a sponge appeared in his hand and without a word he started to wash your skin with a surprising tenderness.

Your whole body stiffened under his touch, his gentle caresses sending a tingle down your tummy to the place between your thighs as he moved his hands slowly, taking his time as he washed away the dried blood. You let out a soft moan as his hands began to wander lower, the sponge tracing patterns on your inner thighs.

His hand slipped between your legs, parting them just enough so he could slide his fingers up and down the length of your slit, teasingly. His mouth against your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he spoke, “So quiet, my little mouse, I didn't take you as the type to get so easily flustered. I must say, I quite like this look on you- so innocent, so helpless, it's... enticing. But, then again, what is innocence to a devil? Nothing more than a toy to be corrupted, is it not?”

“Raphael, I- I-“ your voice trailed off, words failing you as his fingers slid between your folds, teasing the sensitive bud there. You gasped, your back arching into him. You could feel the smirk against your skin, his teeth grazing against the flesh of your shoulder.

“That's it, let yourself go. Allow me to take care of you, to indulge in you. Let me hear your beautiful voice as I make you mine. Sing for me, my little mouse, sing for your devil and he shall reward you…"

His words, his touch, his very presence. It was all intoxicating. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, your face flushing at the sensation. It was so much, yet not enough. You craved more of him. You wanted to give him everything.

Raphael's free hand found its way up to your neck, his fingers gently wrapping around it, his touch featherlight. You felt a pressure build in your chest as his grip tightened, a whimper escaping your lips as you squirmed beneath his touch, “please, Raphael, please... I- I- can't- I can't take it. I-“

A soft chuckle left his lips, his fingers tightening around your neck, his other hand moving faster, harder. You cried out, your hips bucking wildly as you were overcome with pleasure. You felt yourself begin to peak, the coil in your belly tightening until finally, it snapped, “Raphael~!” You cried out his name as your body convulsed with the waves of pleasure that washed over you, your body trembling in his arms.

Your body slumped against him, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you tried to catch your breath. He released his grip on your neck, a small, satisfied smile on his lips as he watched you.

“Perhaps now you’ll be able to relax, little mouse, and enjoy your bath. Enjoy your reward, and allow yourself to bask in the aftermath of my touch. I'm sure there's more where that came from.”

Your mind was a mess, a jumbled, incoherent mess of thoughts and feelings. All you could do was tilt your head and stare at him in a daze, his words barely registering as he washed the rest of the blood off your skin, the sponge gently grazing over your stomach and arms.

Shifting yourself against him, you used him as a pillow, as a bed within the waters of the tub, a comfortable silence falling between the two of you.

You couldn't help but smile as you closed your eyes, the feeling of his hand combing through your hair soothing, relaxing. You could stay like this forever you thought. Could live in this moment, in this feeling- his hands on you, his warmth around you…

Devil he was, yes… But right now, Raphael was a comfort to you.

“Raphael, would you sing for me?”

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that rumbled in his chest, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin beneath your ear, “Sing? My my, you are rather demanding, aren't you? I suppose I can't deny you such a simple request. After all, this devil does have a soft spot for the little mouse that's come into his care, his keeping, his possession...”

His voice was deep, his tone melodic and pleasant as he started to sing, his words slow, his voice powerful. It was a lullaby, a song from the past. A song that made you think of simpler times, happier times. A song that made you feel safe, secure.

You closed your eyes, listening intently as his voice echoed throughout the forest, filling the air with its melody…

Suddenly, a wave of panic began to wash over you as a realization dawned on you… You were falling in love with Raphael, the devil you’ve come to know… The devil who just a few days ago, would have killed you, or worse- tortured and tormented you for fun.

The devil who now sang for you, comforted you, and bathed you. The devil who made you his, claimed you. The devil who, in a short amount of time, had made himself a place in your life, a home in your heart.

Your eyes opened, the panic fading as quickly as it came, 

‘What is innocence to a devil? Nothing more than a toy to be corrupted, is it not?’

A Devil he is…

You tilted your head up, looking at him.

A Devil he is…

His soft brown eyes were fixed on you, a faint smile on his lips.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck, a smile on your lips.

Yes, indeed. A devil he is, yes, a devil that had fallen in love with you just as you had fallen for him.

[five-and-dimes]

Sunbeam

Part 1 of 4

Using the Dreaming Bingo Adoptable prompt: Cat Ears

Rating: M

Ship: Dreamling

Warnings: Past abuse (not explicit, just implied past warprize things)

Additional Tags: Cat!Dream, Cow!Hob, King/warprize, hurt/comfort

Summary: King of the cow Kingdom, Hob is given a cat person as a warprize, and he'd give him the very sun if he could. But perhaps some sunbeams will be good enough.

Read on AO3

It takes a village to make an au like this- It all started on our fav @gabessquishytum 's blog (specifically these posts), plus a lot of inspo from discord, and Hob's design based on the amazing art of @amielot. Thanks for feeding my obsession with this au, friends! 🤘

~~~

By the time Hob makes it back to his room, finally released from a dull morning council meeting, it is nearly afternoon. And Dream is kneeling on the floor.

It’s been a little over a week since King Hob was gifted the cat person now staying in his private chambers. When Dream had been presented to him, Hob remembers feeling a mix of emotions- rage and sorrow and confusion and offense. The bovine kingdom did not trade in people. 

(Not anymore.)

He had wanted to refuse the ‘gift’ out of principle. But he had looked down at the wounded, far too thin creature in front of him and knew immediately that he could not let him go back with his captors. So he had accepted the offering with the minimal amount of politeness to not start a war. He had beckoned the cat to him, and learned that his name was Dream, and that he was too weak to make it up the stairs to Hob’s room. His body was withered and wasted, starved and neglected, even a short walk leaving him panting and shaking. Hob had waved the guards away and lifted him up into his own arms to carry him the rest of the way.

Dream had trembled against him, no matter how Hob tried to reassure him. Part of him still wonders if it was a mistake to bring the poor man into Hob’s own chambers, to lay him on his own soft bed when his fears were so obvious. But Hob could not bear the thought of leaving him alone and scared in some strange room in the palace. In truth, he wanted desperately to care for him himself. Some part of his heart had been given to the cat the moment Hob saw him, and he was determined to see him healed. 

The first night was hard, and Dream continued shivering even as he drank from Hob’s chest, falling into a fitful sleep in Hob’s bed after being tugged away guiltily to ensure he didn’t make himself sick drinking too much too fast. In the days since, Hob has left him in his room as he went about his business throughout the day, returning to check on him and feed him, and always finding him in the exact spot on the bed where he left him. Until today.

It had been raining for much of the week, but today the sun was streaming through the open windows, the light falling vibrantly across the floor in the center of the bedroom. Dream was crouched at the edge of the thick rug placed beneath the bed, reaching one long arm out to dip just the very tips of his fingers into the light, his face full of equal parts longing and trepidation. 

It is a look Hob remembers on his own face when he was a young calf, sneaking into his mother’s study and standing on the tips of his hooves to admire her golden collar and bell. He would tap it, giggling at the heavy chime, feeling mischievous as he imagined a day in the future when the beautiful adornment would be passed on to him. He also recalls getting caught, his mother admonishing him sternly yet fondly, and the way he never once felt fear of her.

He put his grimly little child’s hands all over literal gold, and he never felt anywhere near the blatant terror he sees now on Dream’s face at being caught reaching for a sunbeam.

“I apologize, my lord,” Dream scrambled frantically back onto the bed, folding his limbs to kneel and forcing his hands to release his robe, laying them in his lap meekly. It broke Hob’s heart every time, the way he so clearly wanted to hold the robe closed around his body and just as clearly expected it to be torn away from him.

He had been given to Hob naked.

The robe he wore now was meant for a calf, too short and too wide and still the best fit they could find for the cat until the tailors finished the custom robe they were working on. Dream had been near tears when he was presented with something to cover himself, bowing his head and offering anything and everything of himself in thanks. So grateful. All for a robe that didn’t even fit.

Hob approached the bed slowly, smiling gently even when he wanted to cry for the poor creature, “You’ve done nothing wrong, sweetheart.”

Dream shivered, keeping his gaze downcast, “I should not have moved without your permission, master.” 

Hob flinched at the title. As king he was accustomed to being referred to as lord and sire and majesty- it was only appropriate, and he did expect to be given the respect due his station. But he was no one’s master.

Right now though, he had to choose his battles. “You are free to move about the room, Dream,” it was true that Dream clearly needed rest, but his heart ached to think of Dream sitting stiffly wherever Hob ‘put him’. He turned and gestured at the sunlit spot, “You may even move some of the pillows or blankets from the bed, should you wish to lay in the sun.”

Dream looks horrified at the very idea, ears pinned back in fear, “I would never, sire,” his voice nearly pleading for Hob to believe him, as though he is being tested.

Hob feels his own ears droop, before straightening with resolve. He keeps his motions clear, walking to the bed to gather an armful of pillows. Dream keeps his head down, but his eyes follow Hob’s movements as he begins arranging the pillows on the floor where the sunlight is hitting. He adds a few blankets to the pile too, until he has a little nest in the middle of the room, soft and sunlit. 

Dream still hasn’t moved.

“Come here, Love,” Hob keeps his voice soft and soothing, but Dream still tenses when Hob scoops him up into his arms easily, so frighteningly light, “You must be hungry. Breakfast feels like ages ago.”

As much as Hob wishes he could sustain Dream with his milk alone, they had begun introducing some light foods- small morsels of fish, and select vegetables that the royal librarian deemed safe for cat people- into his breakfast and dinner. In between though, Hob fed him himself. Hob was used to being responsible for an entire kingdom, to making decisions that were far and long lasting and praying that he might make his country even a little bit better each day. And he was proud of his position, he would not trade it for anything. But there was something so special about being able to hold this one person in his arms and see the good he was doing. 

It still took some encouragement. As he settles into the nest, leaning back against the pillows and facing the window so that Dream can sit in his lap in the direct sunlight, Dream is still tense and trembling. Hob shushes him gently, slipping his shirt over his head before placing one hand at the back of Dream’s head to guide him to his chest. He remembers how confused Dream had been the first night when Hob had fed him, opening his mouth wide like he might for a different part of Hob’s body, unsure of what was expected of him. He had allowed himself to be maneuvered without any resistance until Hob was finally able to get a few drops of milk onto his tongue. He had watched as Dream’s eyes had widened, pupils dilating as he licked his lips in something like disbelief. 

After that it was a little easier. He is still nervous and hesitant, but Hob is able to press his mouth to his nipple and say, “Drink,” softly, more of a request than an order even if Dream does not yet recognize it as such. Hob shivers at the sensation as Dream begins to suckle, biting his lip to hold back a groan. He turns his gaze up to the ceiling, trying to distract himself from the sensation. Dream shifts in his lap and Hob has to mentally recite every trade detail he’d been given at his morning meeting in order to restrain himself from moving his hips.

The first night, Dream had looked so resigned when he finally noticed the hard prick in the lap he was sitting on. Hob had just pushed him back, not wanting him to throw up what was most likely the first substantial meal he’d had in who knows how long. He had looked so sorrowful, gazing longingly at Hob’s chest, and then he leaned back and gasped, Hob’s cock hard and hot against his hip. 

He had seemed to wilt, any relaxation Hob had coaxed from feeding him vanished, and he spoke like he was reciting a script, “How shall I repay you, master?”

Hob had felt his blood run cold at the title, “There is nothing to repay, sweet one,” he promised, his smile more of a grimace. Dream had stared at him in blatant disbelief, and as much as Hob wanted to keep holding him, he knew his body’s response was not helping the situation. So he had moved Dream off his lap, tucked him under the bed covers to sleep off his meal, and then gone and taken a long bath to take care of the problem.

It is a routine he has kept ever since. Dream no longer asks what Hob wants in return, though he still looks at him expectantly, and Hob smiles and pets him and then excuses himself to the bath to spend as much time as he needs pleasuring himself. And if he spends that time imagining the soft pads of Dream’s hands, or his sandpaper tongue, or the few glimpses he’s gotten of Dream’s enticingly barbed cock, well, no one needs to know.

Glancing back down at the cat in his arms, Hob is drawn now to Dream’s ears. His own are soft, yes, but they are also thick and sturdy. Dream’s are so thin. Even with the blackness of his fur, the sun seems to shine through at the very tips, a soft glowing pink with little veins just barely visible. Almost without thinking, Hob moves the hand on the back of Dream’s head to lightly grip one ear between his fingers.

Unsurprisingly, Dream startles, a frightened chirp escaping him as he releases Hob’s teat. 

“Shhh,” Hob soothes, nudging Dream back towards his nipple, “It’s alright, you can have some more.” He has to be careful not to let Dream make himself sick, he had been warned by the palace physician what to look out for, but they were nowhere near that point yet. Dream shyly begins suckling again, eyes glancing up at Hob through his eyelashes for approval. “Good boy,” Hob praises, and Dream’s eyes flutter shut, relaxing minutely.

In his hand, he runs his thumb across Dream’s ear. So soft, so delicate and paper thin. He feels a strange compulsion to put it in his mouth. Not to bite, like he did with his playmates growing up- Dream feels too frail for that sort of roughhousing, and Hob does not ever want to hurt him. 

No, he wants to hold his silky ear in his mouth like a delicacy, wants to lick and suck at it as gently as Dream does to his teat until the gossamer fur is wet and warm from his tongue.

For now, he settles for simply rubbing the skin between his fingers, stroking the velvet softness in a feeble attempt to distract himself from his own lust. Eventually, too soon for his or Dream’s liking but in accordance with the doctor, Hob must gently push Dream away, his chest feeling emptier and yet still too full. All he wants is to feed Dream until he is fully sated. It hurts that, for now, he cannot.

Dream has become more accustomed to the routine, and so his whimper is nearly inaudible when leans back in Hob’s lap. Hob can feel the way his ears go from lax contentment to physically pressed down, tense and flat against his head. Or trying to be, at least, in the case of the ear still in Hob’s hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Hob coos, “I know you want more, just have to wait a couple hours, Love.”

“You have been more than generous, master,” Dream replied shakily, and Hob suddenly realizes that he does not want to run away to sequester himself in the baths. 

At the moment, his body is not betraying him, at least not so much that his robes do not hide it. And so he shushes Dream again and turns him in his lap, easy as a doll, until they are both facing the window. He nestles Dream between his thighs, bracketing him between thick, warm fur and tugging him to lean back against the softness of his belly. He feels Dream’s breath hitch as he brings his free hand around to rest softly on the subtle swell of his stomach. 

“Relax,” Hob whispered, one hand on his ear while the other rubbed his stomach soothingly, helping encourage his starved body to digest the meal it’s been given, “Just relax.”

As he strokes Dream’s trembling belly and pets his ear, Hob cannot help but tilt his face into the sun. He thinks perhaps he has taken this warmth and light for granted. How many times has he awoken and scowled at the light streaming across his bed? How often has he walked past these sunbeams, stepped across the warm fibers of his extravagant rug, and not even spared them a glance? Now, feeling his body warm- feeling Dream’s body warm- in the glowing light, he feels a pang of regret that he has not appreciated this simple pleasure before.

Well, he is appreciating it now. He smiles to himself as he feels Dream slowly relax under his ministrations, body melting back against him and sinking into Hob’s abundant, pillowy flesh. Hob thinks that if he could, he would keep Dream here, surrounded by his body, soft and warm, forever. 

Maybe he can’t hold him forever, but he can hold him now. And maybe it is too soon to mouth at Dream’s silky ears and press his tongue to them like a salt lick, but he allows himself to press a fleeting kiss to the one in his hand. 

Dream doesn’t flinch. And that is more than enough for now.

[flippinpancakes64]

Could you do the cullens with a mate who is a painter?

The Cullens with a Painter! Reader

I haven’t painted in YEARS omg, I moved to using my iPad a couple of years ago but I still remember the basics so here we go

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He’s also an artistic person

So he understands what drives you to create

His favorite thing to do is to play the piano while you paint

It just makes him feel so warm inside

He loves watching you paint as well

It’s so fascinating to watch what you see in your mind and then as you translate it onto the canvas

And he loves your artwork

He hangs it up all over the walls in his room

Genuinely thinks you should enter in a contest

Alice:

She loves your artwork so much

It’s so fascinating to her how you can just conjure up something so amazing

She also loves to buy you new paints and canvases

Every time she’s out buying new clothes or something she sees a new paint and she’s like “ooh that color’s pretty”

Keeps every single thing you make for her

Loves watching you work

She doesn’t care if she’s being creepy

She just loves you and wants to hang out

Jasper:

He’s fascinated and enamored by your emotional state when you work

He loves when you paint faces because your mind flickers to whatever emotion you’re trying to convey on the paper

It’s a very interactive experience for him

He almost likes tuning in to your mind more than your actual artwork

But he does obviously love your paintings

He does whatever you want him to

You need a life model? Well it’s a good thing he can stay still for hours

Want more paint? He already has his car keys in his hand

Rosalie:

She used to be really into painting and drawing

But she always thought she was bad at it so she just stopped

So when you come around she falls in love with it again

She wants you to teach her everything

She’s always hard on herself

She thinks her stuff is never as good as yours

But she loves painting with you

She can almost overlook her own hatred for her artwork

And yes she hangs up everything that you make in her garage

Emmett:

I don’t think he’s a very artsy person

Unless you want to call the fact that he can gut and skin a bear in less than 30 seconds an art form

But he can appreciate good art

So when he sees some of your paintings for the first time he is blown away

“You made these? Like actually? That’s so fucking sick”

Proudly displays anything you give him

You doodled on a paper during school and he stuck it in the front pocket of his binder

And he tells everyone who asks exactly where it came from

Esme:

She’s a painter

I don’t make the rules I just follow them

All of the artwork currently hanging up in the Cullen house is her work

And yes she’s very proud of the grad cap piece

So she is so excited when she finds out you also love to paint

Two peas in a pod

Painting dates are a must

And she is more than happy to take down some of her stuff to make room for yours

You don’t even need to ask

Carlisle:

I feel like he’s a jack of all trades

He’s been around long enough I sure hope he knows how to do everything at least a little bit

But he’s nowhere near as good as you

He’s so proud that his SO is such a talented artist

He convinces the clinic to hang up a couple of your pieces in the boring exam rooms

People compliment them all the time and he tells them exactly who made them

Don’t ever worry about buying art supplies ever again btw

Vampire! Bella:

I don’t remember if she ever drew during the books or movies, but she just screams art kid to me

She had a phase in middle school, thought she sucked so she stopped

So she’s astonished when she sees what you make

“I couldn’t make that even if Van Gogh himself taught me”

She loves watching you work

It’s so calming to her

If she could sleep, she would fall asleep watching you

[poppy-metal]

So I’ve sent a few asks about this since i'm not a challengers blog lmao but i feel like ive got this sorted now. This is a polycule au where reader enters via Tashi.

Reader is Tashi’s childhood best friend. They met at a day camp for kids in the neighborhood, and you were excited to let her babble on about tennis and sports and everything else. You traded hair ties and discovered you have the same favorite movie and that was that. 

You were interested in tennis for a bit, an eager little kid, really just excited to have a best friend. Your parents were a bit concerned - don't you want other friends? She seems a little... overbearing... - but you didn’t care. This wasn’t just another kid - this was Tashi. Fire and ice, determination and grit, strength and beauty... You didn’t realize you were falling in love, you were just a kid. But that first love - when given the opportunity - can grow into its own beast. Spin the bottle might have been the first kiss you two share (and your first kiss ever), and it probably should have hurt your feelings more when she told you you were a terrible kisser later that night, but she offered to teach you and you tried to ignore the way your mouth went dry at the thought of tasting her again.

But despite your best efforts, as you drift away from tennis and into the pageant circuit, you and Tashi drift apart too. She still drags you out to do doubles for fun, but you can tell it bothers her that you aren’t as passionate about it as she is. It was her idea to write letters in college - she was flopped out on your bed, looking like a goddess in her tiny pajama shorts. She said it was convenient, you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat. You’d been scared that she might just leave you - find a friend with a passion and drive that matched hers. But she wanted you around. Even tried to set you up with Art one time, the four of you crammed in a booth at some shitty diner. You decided then that you hated both boys - you’d heard their names in her letters, tried to ignore the way jealousy coiled in your chest every time they looked at her.

After her injury though... she just drifted away. By the time Lily was born, she rarely wrote back, to your texts or emails. It was too hard - you understood tennis as a game, but not in the way she did. Besides, you were solidly from before. Before the injury, before the marriage, before any of it. In her mind, you were pure. She couldn’t taint that with her pain and loss. You tried reaching out to Art, but he brushed you off.  You ran into Patrick a few years later, at a shitty hotel. You’d almost kissed him - the heat of the moment and the history making desire twist with guilt in your stomach and you’d practically ran from the bar.

But that didn’t mean you stopped writing. And that made everything worse - why couldn’t you be more like Patrick, take a hint, let her go, let her slip fully into her after. But you never forgot a birthday - an ever growing collection of cards and letters in a box under her bed. You’d wondered, sometimes, if she read them. The letters got shorter and shorter as your own life drifted away from you. Empty friendships, empty relationships... it should have alarmed you, the way your life became grey without her. 

After the Challenger, when Patrick was back in their life, he was looking for something of Art’s when he found that shoebox under her bed. The last few letters are unopened - you’d stopped including any details of interest by now, and she couldn’t bear to read the nothingness. You used to fill pages - now you barely covered the front of one.

But despite late night conversations while Tashi was getting ready for bed, neither Patrick nor Art ever felt like it was their place to say anything. Patrick would poke and prod, but never actually did anything. 

It would be another year of radio silence before fate intervened. At this point in your life, you were working as a personal assistant for some big-wig sports sponsor, an overbearing man with wandering hands - but he pays you well, and your contract has a year or so left in it anyways.

The party had barely started when someone taps you on your shoulder. You’d been flitting around in a blush gown, debriefing the staff and restocking tables. You spin, expecting another waiter with a question, but Art’s blue eyes widened as they met yours. He hadn’t recognized you from behind - looking for answers about where to put their coats, but now you were both staring, brains whirring, trying to think of what to say. And you can’t stop  yourself from scanning the room, a million questions swirling in your mind. Is she here? Did she know I was here? Eventually, you and Art are able to get through the awkward conversation, as you try to keep your eyes from traveling the entirety of his form - older, but still muscled, and the crows feet around his eyes only served to increase his attractiveness.

You’d flit away again, your heart pounding in your chest. You still hadn’t seen Tashi - was she even here? It would be a few hours before Patrick would confront you at the bar. You’d finally gotten away from your boss, throwing back a shot surreptitiously. 

“Is he always like that?” He asked, leaning back against the bar, up in your space the way he’d been all those years ago. 

“Hmm?” Was all you could manage, the shock and the alcohol making your mind move slower than normal.

“Your boss. Is he always so touchy?” You don’t answer that, putting your shot glass back on the bar and flitting away again.You’d hosted a thousand parties with your boss - why are they here now?

It was almost midnight by the time you finally see Tashi - you’d been washing your hands in the women's bathroom when she came out of the stall behind you and you both froze. Your brain was running a mile a minute, you weren’t even sure if you were breathing, all those feelings from decades ago coming up your throat.

“It’s good to see you.” Was all she said before slipping out of the bathroom. You find yourself leaning heavily against the sink, just trying to catch your breath.

Tashi would say that it was seeing you with your boss that pushed her over the edge into bringing you back into her life. But both Patrick and Art know that it wouldn’t have mattered if she had seen you with your shitty boss, happily married with kids, or in the height of your career. One look at you was enough.

aw, this one HURT what the hell ☹️☹️☹️☹️ the continued letters :((((( them slowly getting more and more lifeless the more that times passes and the more listless she becomes :(((( i imagine she stops hoping for tashi's reply, probably stops thinking tashi reads them at all - just vents like its a diary - she could buy an actual diary but something about the letters and knowing where they'll end up gives you comfort. you talk about failed dates and how you dont feel like you're built for love, dont think its meant for you. think you're probably always meant to doll it out and not receive it and how its okay and you accept it and you dont resent her for leaving - especially after her injury, you get it - except sometimes you get angry and your letters have tear stains on them with blurred ink lines and you write about how you understand how hurt and devastated tashi must have been and still must be, but why couldn't she let you be there for her? why weren't you enough? why did she accept love from art years later but never sends a letter back to you? why does he get grace from that time in your life, but you dont? what did you do to deserve it?

those are the letters tashi almost replies to - the angry ones - she gets as far as putting a pen to paper but can never find the words to explain how the reminder of you, after her injury, was just too much to bear - all her passion and ferocity and girlish zeal were wrapped up tightly and bound to you - even though you didn't play tennis - you reminded her of everything playing tennis used to make her feel. euphoric. how can she explain thinking of you made her sick to her stomach and by the time she'd gotten to a place where she could stand on her own two feet again. allow love back into her life through art - that she'd simply felt the weight of her cruelty too intensely. she couldn't apologize. she couldn't bear seeing the betrayal in your eyes, the hurt, the wound she'd caused. tashi was tough - but not when it came to you. you'd rip her right open. so she never replied. and eventually, it became too much to read them too.

and art probably knows about you - it's kind of hard not to notice his wife getting letters continuously. he asks about them, and tashi tells them they're from you and arts thinks 'oh.' he feels bad for you, he remembers you - remembers that time tashi tried to set you on a double date and it went miserably because art was too much of a loser back then to know how to treat a woman - and he'd still been very much in love with tashi. you'd been sweet, though. down to earth, kind, funny. he could tell you and tashi adored eachother. he doesn't read any of your letters, but he sees the expression on tashi's face kind of - shrink whenever she gets one - and he recommends only once, "why dont you return it?" but the glare she'd sent him had been enough that he'd never brought it up again. he wanted to ask more about you. had an inkling there was something more there under the surface - something romantic even, but he never knew how to go about asking. you were a touchy subject. it made him endlessly curious, despite himself.

and patrick - patrick probably hurt the worst. tashi marrying art - not being invited to the wedding - it'd hurt, badly. you'd written her many letters about just how much it hurt - but with patrick. it felt like a slap to the face. you and patrick - you felt a kinship with him. you hadn't bonded until well after college, not until years later, when you ran into him one night at a local bar. but catching up with him felt as easy as breathing, and like you'd known him all your life. he was self-deprecating and annoyingly flirtatious and haunted. he asked you about a tattoo you had on your wrist with a finger skimming the mark there and you'd breathed in. and that was it. you spent hours talking about tashi, spooling your guts out - and he did the same. you realized you had a connection there - you'd never been around patrick much when he dated tashi but you could tell he still loved her. just like you did. art too, though you didn't know the man well enough to mourn his absence from your life, other than to be stung that he apparently was more deserving of tashi than you were.

you'd almost went home with him - you could tell he wanted to. and the shared pain you felt drew you to him, you couldn't lie. patrick zweig was attractive and and you knew a night with him would treat you well. he'd make you cum - many times, probably. but the thing that stopped you was the very reason you were called to do it in the first place. god, was everything in your life about tashi? every goddamn thing? even your hookups? patrick wanted you, he definitely thought you were hot, but the peak of his desire came from wanting to have something of tashi's. to be closer to her - or to back at her. he'd make you cum, but it wouldn't be about you, or even for you. you couldn’t even be mad at him for wanting it - because for a moment, you wanted it too. to have something of tashi's - both to be closer to her and to spite her. but that's not who you were, at the end of the day.

you just didn't have it in you to play games.

patrick didn't take it hard. just gave you a half crooked smile and gave you his number if you ever changed your mind. the paper sat folded up in a pocket in your wallet for years to come. never used, but never tossed out.

it would be a few years later - working on an event for your gross boss that you saw the match on screen. catching snatches of it between your rounds of attending to guests, before tuning in fully on your break. breathless and nearly nose pressed to the screen as you watched all three of them come together in the most beautiful match of tennis you'd ever seen in your life. watching art and patrick embrace across the net made your eyes burn. when you saw tashi smile you turned the TV off.

a week later patrick was in the news, pictures of him seen with tashi and art on every article online. you couldn’t escape from their image - pictures of the three of them at a dinner - coming out of the movies. one of tashi and patrick seen laughing at a premiere. another of art and patrick relaxing on beach chairs.

it felt like being stabbed in the chest. the connection you felt with patrick severed. you didn't share anything. he was still chosen, in the end, when you weren't. you threw his number out. crumpled and barely eligible anyway.

you stop writing tashi after that. you doubt she'd notice. it was time you stopped being pathetic and let go. she probably threw the letters away the second she got them. art probably thought you were a nuisance. patrick probably thought you were a joke.

you move through life on autopilot for some time. you tune out news about anything related to tennis. you throw yourself into your job - that you hate. but what can you do? it puts food on the table and a roof over your head and yeah your boss gets handsy and makes inappropriate comments but its worth it kind of because he pays you extra and that means you get to buy the fancy ramen. the kind with actual beef tips in it.

its just any other night, refilling guests drinks - managing the bar when it's unattended - flitting around to see if anyone needed anything. your outfit was bordering on inappropriate - akin to that of a maid - black and white and shorter than necessary, especially for a high brow event such as this. but it was what your boss made all the women wear, so you couldn't complain. and yeah, maybe your skirt was shorter than anyone elses but if you just were conscious enough of your surroundings and keeping the hem from raising, it was manageable.

seeing art is like a bucket of ice being dumped on your head. turning around to see his startled expression feels almost comical. his suit and tie in comparison to your near slutty get up is humiliating beyond belief but you simply paste a smile on your face and pretend like seeing him and what it means that hes here hasn't just made your brain short circuit - you act like he's any other guest. pluck his coat from his arm and tell him if he needs anything to please let you know. you hope he doesn't. you hope he leaves you the hell alone.

if seeing art was ice seeing patrick at the bar feels like being tossed into a fireplace. you feel your skin heat just from him being close. your nose twitches at his comment - patrick was always more perceptive than people gave him credit for - but you didn't want to linger around to entertain him. if he thought he could just talk to you like he did the last time you two talked - like he hadn't spit in your face - he was wrong.

and if seeing patrick was like being thrown in a pit of fire seeing tashi in the bathroom was like being shot through the heart. a bullet entering your sternum. breaking all your bones that'd been paper thin anyway and tearing apart all your lungs and viens and cartilage. beautiful as the day you'd last seen her. somehow even more gorgeous with time and in the flesh. her beauty could never be captured completely by a camera or on a screen, though. it was the kind that shone best in person. because she glowed. she was effervescent. you wanted to die.

"its good to see you."

its good to see you.

over and over again in your head long after the door swings shut behind her. its good to see you like there wasn't a decade of unaccounted time between you. its good to see you like there weren't a thousand unanswered letters between you. its good to see you like you were passing acquaintances. nothing more.

you wash your hands in the sink three times. you fix your skirt, though it does absolutely nothing to do so. you go back outside and you deliberately avoid their table and when your boss pulls you to the side and slides a hand down your arm and tells you, you look like you need a break - you look at him and you know you can do what you usually do, which is act stupid and say no thank you or simply act like you dont know what he wants from you until he gets bored. but then you feel the empty pit in your chest that the bullet left ravaged, and you know you need something to fill it. even if that something will make you hate yourself.

you dont beat around the bush.

"can you take me home after work?"

your boss grins. you smile back, it feels wooden on your face.

"sure i can, sweetheart."

[indig0trolls]

BIRTHDAY ADOPTS GIVEAWAY RAFFLE!

Wow! I haven't done one of these in a long long time, so bear with me, but I've just felt incredibly lucky and grateful that so many of you have been so supportive, in general but especially since the start of the year, that I wanted to give a little something back as a thank you!

And what better occasion than my upcoming birthday!

So without further ado... onto the important parts!

RAFFLE RULES

This is a TOTALLY FREE TO ENTER raffle!

The only requirement to enter? You MUST be following me! (This is a thing to say thank you for all the support and kindness, after all!)

HOW TO ENTER!

Fill Out these forms! -> Warm Dusk -> Just a Little Squirrely

You MAY enter for both designs, but you can only WIN one!

One entry per person! If I catch you entering multiple times, or having someone enter for you... it's the blacklist for you, sorry kid thems the breaks.

On that note. NO! You cannot enter for someone else to give as a gift! I just see that getting really messy and don't want to have to sort that out.

You CANNOT resell/Trade these designs, PERIOD! Why? Well, I made them with the intention of giving them away! It just doesn't feel in the spirit of them if someone tacks on a bunch of art and upsells it later.

If. IF you get to a point where you have the design and you don't want it anymore... Give it away again! Host another raffle or gift it to a friend (with respects to my blacklist ofc).

RAFFLE ENDS ON MY BIRTHDAY,, WHICH IS JULY 23RD, AT 4:00PM EDT.

SO YOU HAVE 3 ISH DAYS TO ENTER!

And will be rolled shortly thereafter! (Probably around 5:30pm edt if we're being honest!)

FULL TOS UNDER CUT

TOS

By entering you will be agreeing to follow these terms as follows. PLEASE make sure you read them in full to understand them.

You MAY change the design/species of any design i’ve made after youve bought it, but you must leave credit with INDIG0TEA for the design, and the design itself must be recognizable.

Gender/sex/etc is ultimately up to the buyer.

You may not resell or trade these designs PERIOD. You did not pay for them, so you may not be paid for them! If you happen to get more art and want to be rid of them... Give them away! Host another raffle! That's it, sorry!

You may not include my designs in resale bundles. Period.

You may not EVER feed ANY of my art into an AI interface of ANY kind.​​​​​​​​

If gift this design, please inform me that it has been gifted so that I may update the TOS to reflect that and so future owners cannot be scammed.

You may not give this design (or any of my designs) to anyone on my blacklist, which is linked below for your convenience. Doing so will result in immediate blacklisting/blocking of your accounts.

You may not ever edit the original artwork(s).

You may not repost the original artwork to deviantart, instagram, or other social media/portfolio sites.

You may not use this design for the creation of license-able media such as (but is not limited to): books, animated shorts/shows, Vtuber/twitch streamer sonas, comics/webcomics, and video games (free or otherwise). If you would like to use this design in anything like this, we can negotiate a one time licensing fee which covers use in all of the above. This can be anywhere form an additional 150-500$ depending on your intended use.

You MAY use your design for any other purpose, so long as you are not profiting financially off of my work nor passing it off as your own.

You are allowed to store it in your deviantart sta.sh, post it to tumblr profiles, or upload it to websites like toyhou.se with proper credit.

However, you may not reupload to toyhou.se, to keep the ownership log intact, and to keep the original tos consistent.

For my personal comfort, you may not delete original listings from toyhou.seand resell it separately. This is again to keep the ownership log intact, and to keep the original tos consistent. If the person you wish to resell it to does not have a toyhou.se, I have plenty of invite codes I can give out as necessary.

Please credit to INDIG0TEA the first time you post art of them to websites other than toyhou.se

Violation of many of these terms will result in permanent blacklisting/banning from buying or owning designs by me in the future.

BLACKLIST

[matchstique]

Greed from FMA

~a little art trade with @spectra-bear ~

[sotwk]

Food and Agriculture in Thranduil's Kingdom

It's unfortunate that Thorin's Company was welcomed as dinner guests in Rivendell but imprisoned as invaders in Mirkwood. Had Thorin just shown King Thranduil just a little bit more respect, they could have been fed a whole lot better by the Silvans. And there would most definitely have been meat!

While the Rivendell elves seem to lean vegetarian, and Lothlorien's culinary specialty is the "one bite" lembas, the elves of Greenwood know more than a thing or two about indulgent feasting. These elves consider themselves permanent residents of their land, and with that outlook comes an attitude of celebrating Middle-earth's bounties.

The Silvans of the Woodland Realm have always been fond of feasting, merry-making, and community and family traditions centered around food. Furthermore, they are ruled by a King and royal family who whole-heartedly support this culture, participate in it themselves, and encourage trade that allows the realm to access food from other lands.

When it comes to food, the Greenwood elves are actually more alike Dwarves and Hobbits than they are the lofty High Elves.

Below the cut are SotWK headcanons regarding Food and Agriculture in the Woodland Realm:

Food, Cuisine, and Agriculture in the Woodland Realm

Prior to the establishment of the Woodland Realm and in the early reign of King Oropher (c. SA 700), the Silvan Elves populating Greenwood lived in smaller communities spread throughout the vast forest, but predominantly in the southwest, closer to their kin in Lorinand. Limited subsistence farming was practiced by a few, but by far most food at this time was obtained through hunting and gathering. The rich and bountiful Greenwood had always provided more than enough resources for its dwellers.

GATHERING

Greenwood Elves happily spend most of their immortal lives within Eryn Galen and the lands of Rhovanion, so they are accustomed to living off solely what the forest produces, and their diet is influenced largely by it.

The most commonly foraged edibles are:

Nuts: hazelnut, pecan, walnut, hickory, beechnut, chestnut

Fruit: plum, apple, grape, persimmon

Berries: mulberry, blackberry, currant, elderberry, raspberry

Wild garlic and ramps

Fungi: mushrooms and truffles of many varieties

Eggs: from various wild birds

Herbs and Spices: fennel, corn mint, dandelions, ground elder, pigweed, cicely, sorrel, hogweed, stinging nettle, watercress, wild carrot, rowan, wood avens, sneezewort

Maple: sourced for sugar and syrup

There are also hundreds of plant species native only to Greenwood and Rhovanion that are valued for their uses in healing. However, the Silvan herbalists of Greenwood are usually the only ones able to effectively extract the curative properties of these plants, indicating a connection between Elves and homeland may be necessary for the healing to work.

Art from Fantasy Flight Games

HUNTING

Greenwood Elves are expert hunters and trackers, with unparalleled mastery within their forest and the lands that surround its borders. With careful consideration and instinctual knowledge of the forest ecosystem, they select their prey according to what's most populous, and rotate as necessary to balance out conservation levels.

Among the animals they hunt regularly for meat consumption are rabbit, squirrel, duck, turkey, quail, weasel, racoon, boar, deer, wild oxen, and elk. On rare or special occasions, they hunt less common game such as lion and bear. They also obtain fish and freshwater mussels, clams, and snails from the Forest River and various streams.

It is illegal in Greenwood to hunt or kill specific animals that are declared a protected species, including the King's Elk (the breed of Thranduil's war elk), the silverwolf, and all species of eagle or falcon.

Any fauna or fauna may also be temporarily decreed off-limits for hunting or gathering, by order of the Elvenking and his council.

Any animal taken in as an elf's pet or familiar may also not be killed, so long as it has been properly tamed and does not pose a risk to others.

Throughout the Second Age, the Woodland Realm's population steadily increased under the wise rule of King Oropher and his court. As the communities and villages that made up the kingdom grew larger and more numerous, the practice of agriculture became more widespread to bolster the realm's food supply.

In the Woodland Realm, farming would always remain secondary to hunting and gathering due to the preference of Silvans for wild game and native vegetation. Farmed products serve primarily to enhance cuisine, supplement large feasts, provide reserves in case of war or famine, and as goods for trade with other realms.

FARMING and LIVESTOCK

Tracts of community farmlands were gradually cultivated in the arable fields between Greenwood's western borders (near the capital of Amon Lanc) and the Anduin River.

In order of output, the food crops most commonly grown are: wheat, barley, oats, potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, lettuce, peppers, and peas.

Fiber crops grown for cloth, paper, and rope include: flax, hemp, and cotton.

Domesticated animals are raised in small numbers solely for their by-products and not their meat. In order of importance, livestock that are raised are:

Sheep: source of wool and milk

Chickens: source of eggs

Cows: source of milk and for birthing calves

Animals raised for labor include:

Horses: highly valued and raised exclusively for transport and mounted cavalry

Oxen: used as beasts of burden (large-scale/community work)

Donkeys: used as beasts of burden (small-scale/family work)

When Prince Thranduil built his own palace of Bar Lasgalen just south of the Old Forest Road (which would later become the new capital upon his ascension to the throne), he helped the Silvans residing in the valleys of the Emyn Duir to initiate small-scale agriculture, which encouraged further migration into that area and northward towards the Grey Mountains.

Elvish historians refer to the first millennium of the Third Age as the "Golden Age of the Woodland Realm". During these years, the kingdom enjoyed an unbroken peace under a wise King and Queen who also had five sons actively involved in the governance of the realm.

Departing from his father's more isolationist leanings, Thranduil encouraged trade with realms across Middle-earth. It included all the races except for Hobbits, since the Shire did not yet exist prior to the darkening of Greenwood.

Sadly, most trade came to a stop by the end of the Third Age, with the exception of the nearby Dale, due to the struggles with Dol Guldur. However, after Erebor was reestablished by King Thorin, trade gradually resumed with the Dwarves. After the War of the Ring and the Cleansing of Dol Guldur, Eryn Lasgalen once again thrived with renewed relations with their trade partners--finally including the Shire!

AGRICULTURAL TRADE

The Woodland Realm's three most valuable exported agricultural products are:

Rare spices

Mushrooms and truffles

Medicinal herbs (extremely valuable but highly controlled to prevent misuse)

Imported goods are considered luxuries and not necessities, and are brought in seasonally for community feasts and celebrations (of which there are many). Everything is meant for the consumption of all the kingdom's citizens, regardless of status; there is never anything reserved as "special" for the royals or nobles.

The top agricultural imports, usually from realms/communities of Men, are:

Wine

Textiles (silk, cotton)

Seafood

Sugar

Cheeses

ARTISAN COOKS and BAKERS

Exposure to outside realms and cultures also resulted in an expansion of the culinary arts within Thranduil's kingdom. Cooking and baking became full-blown, respected and sought-after professions instead of tasks done within individual households. With the King's support, talented Elves were sent to other realms to learn their culinary practices; chefs from other kingdoms were invited to Greenwood as royal guests to do the same.

A few culinary feats and innovations the Woodland Elves became known for:

Use of offal (innards) in recipes that actually taste fantastic, thanks to seasonings and skilled cookery

Using literally every single part of a butchered animal with zero waste

Aphrodisiacs in common food recipes, using plant ingredients (partly responsible for their marriage and birth rates and large families)

Salted game meat (jerky) that is highly nourishing and excellent for travel; essentially a meat version of lembas

The use of whipped egg whites to make essentially a type of meringue--which opened up an entire category of desserts that became staples at feasts

Bonus Fun Headcanons! (as a thank you for reading this far)

Mealtimes in Thranduil's Family

No one can beat Ada in drinking contests, ever; it has been attempted hundreds of times--usually with Dorwinion wine--and Thranduil has never been dethroned by his sons.

The King and every single one of the Princes are all heavy eaters, and everyone, including the Queen, eats meat.

While they all observe formal manners at the table, the Princes can get rowdy when not in the presence of their mother--especially when there's drinking involved. (Not quite as bad as Thorin's Company, but close.)

Breakfast: Taken individually in their own rooms, according to each one's schedule/leisure

Lunch: The most commonly skipped meal; usually taken "on the go", and oftentimes with people outside of the family (e.g. business lunches, lunch with friends)

Dinner: The family meal. Everyone is expected to sit down and eat dinner with the rest of the family, unless traveling or there is a prior commitment that takes precedence.

Random Fun Food Facts with the Thranduilions

The Princes regularly compete to see who can eat the most exotic/"disgusting" food items. Turhir remains champion at this (able and willing to eat literally everything), with Legolas frequently trying (and constantly failing) to unseat him.

They have also competed to see who can eat the riskiest (aka poisonous) food items. Arvellas has somehow proven to be the most impervious to natural poisons, much to Gelir's frustration.

Legolas can go the longest without eating food, but no one really cares to try to beat his record.

Mirion is the heaviest eater, but is also the fastest, and because he has flawless table manners no one really notices.

Gelir can find truffles just using his sense of smell--yes, like a truffle pig. He has successfully trained other similarly gifted Elves to do the same.

For more Thranduil/Mirkwood headcanons: SotWK HC Masterlist

Tolkien Headcanon tag list: @quickslvxr @laneynoir @auttumnsayshi @achromaticerebus @tamryniel @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @blueberryrock @aduialel @glassgulls @ladyweaslette @klytemnestra13 @creativity-of-death @heilith @fizzyxcustard @absentmindeduniverse @lathalea @tamurilofrivendell @jordie-your-local-halfling @ladyk8tie @scyllas-revenge @asianbutnotjapanese @conversacomsmaug @lemonivall @ratsys @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @entishramblings @stormchaser819 @freshalmondpandadonut

[velvetures]

AU Continuation: Perimeter Security

a.n.: Thank you to everyone who left comments, and gave this love! I hope to write more! This is thanks to @3dumbass and their suggestions.

summary: living with the 141 has its perks, and built-in security is one of them. it’s just not always easy for them to determine who’s actually a threat.

AU: The 141 are at risk due to personal files being compromised. They’re laying low at a low-risk location until further notice.

tags?: Simon x 3rd person coded relationship, strangers, tension, well-meaning anger, protectiveness, misunderstanding.

Snow made everything on the ridge lines slow down. Thick, icy, blankets camouflaged roads and halted the daily movement of simple life. The mail didn’t run, and neither did the school busses in town. It was as if the whole mountain slept in for weeks at a time when this kind of weather trudged in over the skyline. Freezing water pipes -if you didn’t know to turn the tap on a little- and draining the battery in your vehicle leaving you stranded for days at a time. It’s what made a wood-burning stove a lifesaver and why the ornate Art Garland sitting in the living room more of a necessity than a gilded cast-iron luxury from 1898.

But getting firewood was a whole different experience… especially when the task force took up residence and experience their first winter with Price and Laswell’s goddaughter.

She did well to provide for herself. Not just well, really, better than that. Everything she could manage alone was done without any assistance, and she never complained about much. They all assumed it came from living in such a remote place. That she couldn’t rely on anyone and never got spoiled to living easily. What she couldn’t -or simply didn’t- want to manage, the locals down in town helped with by beaters, trades, or well-kept favors that just kept being passed back and forth.

Just another one of those slowed-down things that made a whole lot of sense in her life, but set the 141’s teeth on edge.

They could rely on each other and do just fine most of the time. But individually and as a squad, it made all of them feel inadequate beyond comprehension asking for or requiring help. And like with her was just one of the stinging wounds they couldn’t quite heal up. Seeing her trade strawberries for corn or a rough-sewn quilt for a hand-made kitchen knife was dignified enough… they just didn’t understand fully how deep the lifestyle ran.

Ghost’s encounter with “Bear” put that much more tension on the dynamic.

***

She’d been inside bent over a pot of soup for nearly the whole morning. Steam curling over her reddened cheeks and sucking up through the range hood when the faint sound of a truck came spinning up the steep snow-covered driveway. A flatbed with a steel-cage welded to the bed and stacks of wood covered with a blue tarp in the back with fraying bungee cords. A familiar sight for her since the man driving always brought her firewood when the weather got too cold to go and do it herself. Or when she’d been regrettably lazy… and didn’t feel like it either.

Barrett “Bear” Stephens. A real outdoorsman and not more than a couple years older than her. Most people around town thought he was a real prick since he didn’t talk much and kept to himself out on West Run Ridge. But she liked him well enough. Trusted him to let him in her house for dinner as thanks for keeping her house warm and always waved when she saw him in the grocery store despite the guarantee he wouldn’t aside her back. Hearing his truck ambling up through driveway wasn’t anything new.

It’s why she forgot to mention it to anyone else.

“Damn freezing out here,” He spit with gritted teeth, sliding out of the truck in four layers of coats. “You’re real lucky the biscuits you make are worth this shit.”

She couldn’t help but stifle a smile. Shifting back and forth to stave off the cold while wearing less than half of what Bear was. Only having come out to greet him since it was below freezing. Normally she’d leave him to drop off her bundles of kindling without the harassment of making him talk. But the snow was deep, and she felt guilty not at least helping him for a moment. Maybe it was good luck that she had though. Because Bear didn’t even make it to the back of the flatbed when a solid black figure smoothly appeared from the opposite side. Black steel glinting in evening light and the black hole of a rifled pistol aimed right at him.

She stopped dead in her tracks. The mistake washing over her seeing Ghost standing there in the scary-as-hell mask, with a white skull framed by a black hoodie and positive white snow all around him. Fuck, even the steam from his breath smoked out of the mask like he was fucking burning from the inside out and letting off pressure before he exploded. His eyes were dead and cold. Staring down the mountain man who’d came to just as still of a position. She was certain Ghost was the only one breathing.

“You’re not welcome,” his thick burred voice sounded more gritty than normal. Maybe from the cold weather… she’d not seen him inside her house in days. “Suggest you leave.”

Bear didn’t say a word, but his rapid nod of his head was enough to thaw her out. Stop this before it got any uglier than Ghost’s .45 making a damn-good threat.

“Wait! He’s… he’s here on purpose!” The excuse can’t great. There could be plenty of reasons he came with intent and then not be positive. “I needed him!”

The stiffness in Ghost miraculously gets worse. Frost in his wide shoulders turning to blue ice and that darkness in his eyes sharpening like flint from sloped hills behind the house. It made him more pissed, and she didn’t have the slightest idea of how to fix it.

He was cagey at the best of times. Like he’d bristle if he had fur on his back or bare fangs if he had the choice to. She hated making any of that anger show, but there wasn’t a better option right now. Besides… it was her damn house. She could have whoever she pleased so long as she thought they were safe. John had made it clear there wouldn’t be any restrictions unless something serious came up. And having visitors weren’t one of them. Especially since. Bear wasn’t coming in the house.

She’d been quite set in that decision anyways. Bear wasn’t the nosey type anyways. He didn’t talk much, did his job, and left. But that didn’t mean Ghost knew it. And his pistol didn’t even waver a centimeter even after she spoke.

“This… this yours?” Bear’s voice sounded shaky. His teeth unclenched and irritation with the cold wind dissolved. His question made her antsy. There were too many answers, and none of them felt right in her head.

“Long story,” she decided, taking a rounded pathway around Bear and towards Ghost. Purposefully staying far away from that damn pistol he felt still necessary to have out.

“He can be-”

“Lethal.”

Ghost’s interjection made her wince.

“Enough of that!” She snaps back, hissing and feeling the hot air freeze in front of her lips. “Let him drop off the firewood, and he’ll leave.”

One look back at Bear and she could see the slight confusion in his otherwise guarded expression. There was no chance in hell she was letting Ghost just disappear off somewhere after this. He couldn’t just point-blank threaten people. Bear was who kept the damn house warm half the winter whether she liked it or not. And Ghost couldn’t fuck it up just because he’d not been explicitly told anything.

“How ‘bout we lend a hand?”

Soap and Gaz walking up nearly gave her a heart attack. One of them was bad enough. Two more? Her faith in Bear not running and telling anyone who would listen about her was stretching thin. The grocery store, all three churches, and the fire department would think she was in a reverse harem by the end of the month. Even if Soap was already helping himself to the stacks of bundled wood in the back, this interaction felt centuries long with no hope of ending.

“Just three.” She finally gets the warning out, seeing Gaz going for a fourth bundle. He just nods, setting it back down and shooting a quite civil nod in the man’s direction.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” He adds, looking over the tall stacks. “How much?”

“Ten dollars a bundle.” Bear sounds half ready to pass out.

Gaz promptly drops the one he’s carrying and pulls out a wallet like he’s got no problem with Ghost still standing there like a human-centry gun. Pulling out a twenty and holding it out in his hand.

Is this some sort of fucking peace treaty?

Ghost only moves to holster his weapon after Bear takes the money and mutters something about ‘help yourself’ before shutting himself back inside the can of the truck without another word. Tension easing with each moment Soap spends stacking his arms tall with dry, red cedar and sycamore. She doesn’t even know where to begin. Wondering where John was. Wanting to know where Ghost had been. Why he’d even approached in the first place.

“I need a word with you.”

She can’t bring herself to do anything but stare out at Bear’s truck hightailing it off her property as she addresses Ghost. Hearing his very heavy boots creaking on the porch. He doesn’t say a word, but it’s clear once Gaz and Soap leave for inside that he’s not standing behind her for his own enjoyment.

“Do you have any idea what you might’ve just screwed up?” Her voice doesn’t sound like her own. It’s mad, sure. But almost panicked in a sense. The reality of the situation hitting her harder because she vividly remembered winter before the help. And it wasn’t pretty. Recent snows had been stable and quite pleasant actually. And Ghost nearly made target practice out of her own sure solution.

“Very aware,” that damn voice sounded too smooth. “Who is he?”

Another thick billow of fog curls out of her mouth. “Who he is, isn’t important. Keeping my fucking house from freezing is.” She can feel her fingers starting to prick from the cold even inside her coat.

“Don’t care for nameless men.” He counters just as seemingly unbothered.

If she could physically force herself to turn around and face him head-on, she would. But his utter disregard made it intimidating. Too much to handle.

“Jesus Christ….” She muttered, head dropping to thump against a porch post. “Barrett Stephens. We call him Bear.” It felt defeating to be forced to answer him like this.

Ghost’s boots strain the porch as he walks towards the firewood hoops. The sound of dry bark ready to catch an ember cracking and scratching as he moves it.

“Almost killed himself…”

“Yeah,” She chuckles dryly, biting the inside of her cheek and spinning around with some real anger. “M’sure the coroner would love to know how he got ahold of the pistol you have tucked in your fuckin’ jeans.”

That massive man turned on himself just as quickly. Closing a multiple-yard distance in just a couple long strides. His breathing heavier and that thick smoke trailing from the stitch-seams in his mask.

“Gonna get yourself killed too…” He warns. Low, and just like the wolf she pictured him being. Bared teeth, dilated eyes and all.

“Stop growlin’ at me…” The words come out of her mouth before she even thinks about how wrong it is. “Actin’ like a damn dog.”

He’s fast. So fast.

Hauling her backwards against the porch banister and towering high above her head with a low, and heavy sort of breath fizzling out in his chest. It’s the most threatening he’s been so far. And she can’t tell just how far she can continue to stand her ground without things truly getting ugly. Even her fingers have stopped tingling from the cold with just how fast her blood is pumping. Force feeding oxygen to her brain. Desperate to find a way to run from an inescapable situation she’d created.

“Mind tellin’ me where you got this idea to talk back to me, creeker?”

“When you started throwin’ that gun around like you have the right.”

The fear didn’t keep her mouth shut. Digging an even deeper grave all because he kept using that stupid fucking nickname. Pushing buttons and making it that much harder to be understanding of why he was always so bitter. Nothing she’d done had made a difference so far. And the patience she’d saved specifically for him was waning.

Ghost just chuckled, his head rolling to the side and the gloved hands gripping her coat tightened.

“The right?” It was almost impossible to imagine anything other than a smirk under that mask.

“Oh… I certainly have the right to defend what’s mine.”

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated 🤎

[cloudwhisper23]

Freddy’s trek to Parts and Service was interrupted briefly as Officer Vanessa tried to get his attention for the thirteenth time. “Freddy! Do you have a moment?”

“I was just on my way to Parts and Service, Officer Vanessa. Is there something you need help with?”

Frazzled, Vanessa nodded her head vigorously. “There’s two kids wandering around on their own.”

“I do not see how that concerns me. I believe you should communicate the issue to another member of staff-“

“No, you don’t understand. They’re not kids. Not human kids, anyway.”

“I don’t follow.”

“They’re…” Vanessa gestured vaguely. “Talking animals?”

Freddy frowned. “The suggestion you are making does not make any sense. I was under the impression that therianthropy was purely hypothetical, and it pertained specifically to cave drawings in France.”

“Glad to see you have an open mind,” Vanessa replied sarcastically.

“If you could just-“

“Come with me for a minute. You’ll believe it when you see it.” Vanessa turned and started walking.

The door to the security office flew open when Vanessa scanned her keycard. Freddy didn’t see much out of the ordinary, aside from the child-sized stuffed teddy bear on the floor. Or at least, he didn’t until the bear moved.

Freddy couldn’t help himself. He pressed himself down low, just in case the little bear was scared of him. Evidently, the bear cub was not afraid. He looked at Freddy, blinking sleepily.

“Are you…” he yawned. His little teeth poked out of his mouth, and Freddy felt a rush of affection surge over him. “Do I know you? Should I know you?” 

His amber eyes gleamed as they settled on Freddy’s face. Suddenly, the animatronic bear didn’t know what to do. “Officer Vanessa,” he started, but she had already quietly left the room. Off to worry about something else, he supposed.

Shaking his head, Freddy continued his focus on the bear cub. “My name is Freddy Fazbear. I am a performer slash entertainer for a company called Fazbear Entertainment. What is your name?”

The little bear blinked at him for a moment. “My name? I… I’m…” His ear twitched. “Gregory. My name is Gregory.”

“Well, Gregory, you seem to be a bit lost. I don’t see too many bears hanging around here normally.”

So, I did an art trade with @pixlokita here on tumblr. Since I've had block for several months now, I wrote a ficlet instead. Hope y'all enjoy it as much as they did!

[bluephoric]

ridiculously long list of larry johnson hcs because fuck you he doesnt get enough love

Tw for depressing ass shit

- larry is a tired clumsy airhead, and as a result he always has SOMETHING spilled, wiped, or drawn on his clothes.

- undiagnosed adhd, and probably a few other things

- both him and sal collect bottlecaps, they like to make pins out of cool ones they find, often trading them like pokemon cards. they have multiple matching friendship ones. on common ones though, he likes to flatten and paint.

- larry's mental health generally sucks, but when things get really bad he stops caring about his physical safety, often pulling some reckless shit. even when he gets hurt from it, he doesnt seem to mind. Times like these kinda scare him, and he tries to avoid falling into them.

- despite seemingly "not caring about anything" (as he puts it) during these episodes, he's still fiercely protective of his friends and tries to be gentle with them, both physically and emotionally.

- callused hands, fingers yellowed from smoking.

- big fan of gas stations when he's high, practically raids that shit. one of his nicknames is "stoner jesus"

- he's openly bisexual and flirts with random people for fun. its usually something light. dorky pickup lines, stupid puns.. he Never expects it to be shot back at him but on the rare occasion it happens, he turns into a giggling mess.

- he actually pissed off travis even worse a few times with it, I could go into it further but this isnt a larvis post so i'll spare you all. For now.

- his favorite horror movies are the funny ones

- he isnt much of a drinker, mostly around holidays and just to get a little buzzed. spiked eggnog and fireball are his go-to's. Drunk christmas karaoke is one of his favorite things (he's constantly giving sal secondhand embarrassment). 2 words, mariah carrey.

- For awhile he genuinely tried to be a good student but because he was so far behind and his undiagnosed adhd, the teachers started to demonize him. Eventually he realized it didnt matter how hard he tried, so he just gave up. The only subject he likes is art, so that's where he focuses all his energy and actually tries.

- skips school sometimes but lisa tends to give him hell for it so he tries not to do it too often, mostly just skips certain classes if hes really not feeling it.

- almost always comes to school high

- his room is such a mess. sal tries to help him with it but he has similar struggles. whenever ash or todd come over, it becomes a group effort and shit gets done rather quickly. luckily no biohazards, so its not like his room really needs a DEEP clean but still. its nice.

- larry fucking LOVES jack black movies, also stupid stoner movies.

- Loves the arcade too, You'd think his favorite would be guitar hero, but that's more for sal. his favorite is mortal combat or those car racing games that you sit in with the steering wheel.

- larry cant cook for shit, hes always burning something, it always turns out gross and inedible. unless he's stoned, in which case he magically turns into a michelin star chef. weird ass combinations, but it always turns out really good.

- despite being shit at cooking, he still tries to help his mom with it, even though he mostly ends up just being in the way and she eventually shoos him out of the kitchen

- he smells super musky, with cheap cologne and the faint scent of weed

- when he was really little, he had a dinosaur onsie that he would wear everywhere, very rarely taking it off until it started to get too tight. he was beyond devastated when he realized he grew out of it, lisa had to pry it away from him in fear that he would accidentally destroy it. She keeps it in her closet collecting dust. Its one of the few things she kept from before jim disappeared. despite it bringing up memories of what things used to be like before he "left", she couldnt bear to throw it out.

- sometimes when larry needs comfort, he sneaks into her room and steals it temporarily. on sleepless nights, he zips it over his pillows as a makeshift pillowcase, its one of the few things that help him relax. It's always put back in place by the next morning. Lisa has no idea, and he's far too embarrassed about it to say anything to her.

- the only person who knows about this is sal because of their sleepovers. One night He was high as balls and got paranoid, when he tried to sleep it off the fear was just too much so away he crept, into lisa's room. Of course he made sal come with him, he sure as shit wasnt going alone.

- when questioned about it, larry refused to answer and so sal let it go figuring he would tell him when he was ready.

- Larry Harbors an obscene amount of guilt. struggles with sh off and on, tries not to relapse unless things get really unbearable. to prevent this, him and the SF gang (primarily ash) regularly doodle and sometimes paint on the places he's prone to harm.

- when he can feel himself slipping into an episode, larry makes it a point to braid his hair so it won't get matted. tries to brush it and rebraid it at least once a week, but often struggles to find the energy and lets it sit in for longer. Not to mention, a lot of the times he stops showering which makes it even harder to braid because of the greasiness.

- has given himself a few amateur stick and pokes. They look like shit, and he knows it but he's still very proud of them.

- the ink he uses for it fades pretty fast

- he's also tried to give himself piercings, but always fucks it up so he takes them out and slaps a bandaid over it

- collects different kinds of flavored chapstick, takes a bite out of them sometimes when he thinks no one is looking (ofc sal has caught him a few times but has never said anything)

- after he first met megan, he was scared shitless. slept with the lights on for the next few weeks and refused to shut the door when going to the bathroom, insisting to his mom on keeping the shower curtain open at all times (he tried to act chill about it around sal and it kinda worked. kinda.) after awhile he eventually calmed down but still finds himself getting really nervous whenever him and sal talk to a ghost, though he would never admit it.

- has a picture of his dad in a locket but rarely wears it because he's afraid he'll accidentally break it. always keeps it with him though, usually in his pocket, holding it as he walks.

- Despite his general demeanor he's quite the gentleman, always holding doors open and really courteous towards women. Most people don't expect it just based on his appearance, but Lisa raised him right.

- also he's hot as fuck.

- we all know larry is a metalhead, but what kind of metal is his favorite? It generally depends on his mood but id say sludge, thrash, and doom.

- You're telling me this man, who is depressed as fuck and also a stoner wouldnt eat up some electric wizard? saint vitus? bitch, please. I know quite a few albums that would bring him to his knees.

- And I know I'm prolly gonna get hate for this but I notice when a lot of other people write about larry (AND sal), they tend to lean towards nu metal or just plain emo. And while I don't think either of them would mind it, The lyrics and vocals of Sanity's fall feels more reminiscent of death or black metal and given the fact that SF is his favorite band, I don't think he would listen to that kind of stuff, at least not on a regular basis. Ash on the other hand definitely would.

[69consellationsinatrenchcoat]

Random (sometimes rather specific) system shout outs!

You can totally be more than one <3

And hey, some of these can apply to alters individually, but I'll probably do hyper specific alter shout outs eventually lol

Shout out to systems who like animals but can't be around them for some reason

Shout out to late discovered systems

Shout out to systems who form extremely close friendships or want to but don't have anyone

Shout out to bilingual or multilingual systems

Shout out to trans fem systems

Shout out to enby systems

Shout out to trans masc systems

Shout out to systems who experience gender dysphoria but don't know where they fall on the gender spectrum (or if they do at all)

Shout out to systems who don't give a shit about gender

Shout out to cis systems (cis-tems.. heh)

Shout out to LGBTQ+ systems who don't like labels

Shout out to LGBTQ+ systems who love labels

Shout out to straight systems

Shout out to chronically ill systems

Shout out to systems who adore a particularly obscure fandom

Shout out to sapphic systems

Shout out to achillean systems

Shout out to straight aromantic systems

Shout out to aroace systems

Shout out to systems who can't get diagnosed

Shout out to systems diagnosed with PSTD

Shout out to systems with small head counts

Shout out to systems with lots of fragments

Shout out to questioning systems

Shout out to undiagnosed systems

Shout out to autistic and ADHD systems

Shout out to polyam systems

Shout out to systems that use mobility aids

Shout out to systems over the age of 25 (y'all are NOT appreciated and talked about enough in this community)

Shout out to systems that developed chronic illness due to their trauma

Shout out to systems who experienced disassociation their entire life and didn't understand it

Shout out to systems who can't/don't want to date

Shout out to systems who despise mirrors

Shout out to systems who are at or are going to university or tertiary study

Shout out to systems in the trades

Shout out to systems who can't work, either temporarily or permanently

Shout out to systems who are 'out' about being a system

Shout out to systems who love literature, film and art

Shout out to creative systems (whether that's visual art, dance, music, writing or anything else!)

Shout out to systems who will never tell anyone that they are a system

Shout out to systems with a bunch of littles

Shout out to systems with no/few littles

Shout out to systems where their main fronters don't match the shared bodies age

Shout out to systems who need a nap

Shout out to systems who struggle with being vulnerable

Shout out to systems who overshare and then immediately forget what they said

Shout out to systems with hidden alters

Shout out to systems who are insecure about their headcount

Shout out to systems still in abusive or unsafe situations

Shout out to systems who like "kids'" media

Shout out to systems who carry a safety item (whether that's a sensory fidget or a teddy bear or anything else)

Shout out to systems who struggled in school

Shout out to systems where their favourite fandom became unsafe

Shout out to systems who like chickens

Shout out to systems who can't drive

Shout out to systems who work full time

Shout out to systems who like dragons

Shout out to systems who related a little too much to Inside Out and/or Inside Out 2

[universallydestinytaco]

The Little Smiling Mermaid (Chapter 9)

Thank you for reading the first nine chapters of TLSM, unfortunately I have to put the fic is on hiatus until around October because I got lots of art projects to finish! PS. please follow one of my buddies @bluebellcup, it would make us smile!!

TW: Gender Dysphoria + Unintentional Misgendering

Graham Nelly was out scavenging for breakfast as part of his daily morning routine in his own unique Graham Nelly way: he used his "grappling hook" to harvest the sweet and aromatic tropical fruit the island bore, although it would take about seven times to succeed in getting at least two or three of each type he was craving at the moment. He accidentally grabbed a nest full of eggs and one angry mother parrot, who proceeded to give the hapless mer-hippy the ol' stare-down of doom. Graham gulped, bearing what one would call a shit-eating grin and sheepishly wave hello to shake off any negative vibe. This friendly greeting was only met with the mother furiously squawking in his face and ferociously chomping his hand. So much for a balanced breakfast! Once the panicking Graham Nelly finally got away from that one pissed-off mama, he spotted a very familiar group he knew all-too-well. Graham called out: "Well, look at what the catfish dragged in!". It didn't take too long for Graham to notice something was up with his littlest cousin. "Say, There's something different about you, Pim! New hairdo? I can see you've been using your dinglehopper!'" Pim shook his head for "No", Graham placed his hand on his stubble trying to figure it out. "New seashells?" Same response from Pim, who was humored by his cousin's morning absentminded-ness. Graham shrugged: "Well, I'm stumped." Alan snapped: "HE'S GOT LEGS, YOU IDIOT!" Graham was taken aback by the rarity of the lobster losing his cool. "He traded his voice to some crazy sea witch for a pair legs! UGH!" as Pim was trying out his new legs by getting up to stand for the very first time, his friends further conversed; Glep summed-up the catch of the deal: "Eskabezawabowakishymwah!" Alan admitted in anguish: "And he's only got three days. That big yellow guy barely even knows Pim! This is a catastrophe! Okay, maybe there's still time for me to get your voice back-" Alan's rant was cut off by Pim tripping on a pebble and falling back down with a dramatic splash, cascading water all over the lobster who took it as a sign to chill out. Alan then crawled into Pim's hand, looking up eye-to-eye with a plea to reason: "Look, if I can call off the deal, you don't have to return to the palace BUT it can just be us exploring what else the sea has to offer! You'll be...." Alan quickly noticed that Pim's eyes started to shimmer with leaking tears. "...just be miserable for the rest of your life." Defeated, Alan agreed: "All right, all right! I'll try to help you out best I can." Pim immediately smiled, kissing Alan on top of the head before letting him go free. "Ugh, what a soft-shell I turned out to be." Graham spoke up, giving some helpful advice to Pim: "Dude, I'm tellin' ya, if you wanna be a land critter, the first thing you gotta do is dress like one!"

~

Charlie, his crew, Mipnessa and Mr. Boss all embarked on the newly-prepared ship at noon for some sight-seeing, as Dj Spitz served the party a light brunch of egg sandwiches and chopped fruit per Mipnessa’s request. Of course Charlie was still having an internal conflict with himself over recent events, but eventually decided to turn his brain off to properly enjoy his meal. Mipnessa asked: “I beg pardon but isn’t this fruit supposed to be chopped?” Charlie grinned and assured: “Wait for it…” Dj Spitz grabbed two swords behind himself, tossed a pineapple in the air to where his blade caught up just in time for him to quickly dice it into chunks, landing perfectly on the plate to which the impressed group gave Dj Spitz a well-deserved round of applause. Tomar complimented: “Hot damn, Spitz, you sure know how to make a spectacle out of a meal!” Dj Spitz replied, “All in a day’s work, man!” As he wiped the juice off the blades before returning them to their scabbards. “I do say, Charles, your friends are all charmingly eccentric, no wonder you’re so lively.” said Mipnessa, to which Charlie replied: “What can I say? They’re the wind beneath my sails!" Smormu, realizing the egg in her sandwich was in dire need of some seasoning, asked: "Say Chris, may you please pass the salt?” to which Chris obliged: “Sure thing.” but while reaching for the salt, he accidentally knocked over Lyle’s coffee and spilled it on Mipnessa’s gown! Boy did he ever thank the heavens that it had already been cooled off by the cream. “Shit!” Chris spat out as Smormu and Charlie quickly grabbed some napkins to help Mipnessa clean up as a groggy, crusty-eyed Lyle muttered: “Damn it.” while picking his mug up for a refill. The embarrassed Chris apologized over and over until Mipnessa replied: “That’s okay, I find bumbling, awkward men to be more unique and endearing...that’s why I find Charlie to be my ideal husband!” Tomar chuckled: “Oh that Mip, she's a real kidder!” while nudging Charlie’s shoulder as the latter's face flushed red in embarrassment; Eager to change the subject, Charlie broke silence: “How about my ol’ pal Tomar plays us a tune?", rummaging around one of his pockets to dig out his ocarina and placing it in Tomar’s hand to hastily request in a whisper: “Play us a good ol’ fashioned sea shanty, for atmosphere.” Tomar sighed, knowing he kinda had that coming. “I’m no Nicholson but I know The Golden Vanity by heart.” Charlie held his hand out to Mipnessa, "May I have this dance?”

~

“You look sensational!” Graham Nelly complimented Pim on the makeshift dress they collaborated on, Pim finding an old discarded sail and Graham providing the needle and thread. Alan put his claw on his chin, suggesting: “It’s missing something…” just then Glep swam up and gave Pim a familiar trinket he salvaged from the grotto’s ruins: Pim’s flower barrette he stashed inside his favorite music box. Pim kissed Glep to say thanks before placing the barrette in his hair, using his reflection in the water as a mirror to make sure the look was perfect. “I bet that Prince dude's gonna feel his jaw drop the ground when he sees you all dolled up and stuff, let's swim over to- Oh, right, you have legs now so it'd be a bitch for you to swim...luckily I have just the thing for that! See that big ol' platform with the fiddle-sticks over there? All that came with the island, now the platform itself is a little bit wear-and-tear but it'll still keep you afloat!" Pim walked up to the raft and with some help, he started pushing it out to sea. Before Pim could embark, he had to give Graham a big ol' hug to show his appreciation. Graham returned the favor by ruffling Pim's head, responding: "Love you too, kiddo."

~

All while the usual high-seas hi-jinks played out in the background, Mr. Boss was looking out for any sign of trouble with a spy glass, although he wasn’t behind the wheel at the very moment since the ship was anchored, he was still startled from the previous outing at sea. Just then he spotted what appeared to be a stowaway perched on top of a rock surrounded in debris from what he deemed a shipwreck of sorts. Mr. Boss took pity as he pondered just how long they sat on that rock, so the old man quickly rushed over to the dinghy with some lifesavers handy, catching Charlie's attention, asking “Woah, Boss, where’s the fire?” as he followed Mr. Boss, who replied: “We have a stowaway in need of our help!” Charlie’s curiosity peaked, asking: “...Is it a girl?” Mr. Boss spat: “There’s no time for sophomoric questions, boy!” as he lowered the dinghy to carry out the mission. …

Pim felt like an idiot who didn't know how to paddle to save his life...then again, he never really had enough experience to steer a raft, especially considering merfolk obviously didn't need anything like rafts or boats anyways. Nevertheless, his heart fluttered as Charlie gently helped him up, calmly asking: “You okay?”. Mr. Boss fussed in sympathy: “What a trooper.” Charlie carried Pim bridal-style over to the dinghy where he laid the beautiful stranger to sit beside him as Mr. Boss rowed back to the vessel to raise the dinghy upwards. …

Mipnessa was harmonizing her lute with Tomar getting the hang of Charlie’s ocarina to the rest of the gang's clapping rhythm. That was, until everyone sans Mipnessa's attention immediately turned to Mr. Boss, Charlie and the beautiful stranger they rescued. Chris, Tomar, Lyle and Smormu all stood stupefied in awe at the newcomer as Mipnessa ran to Charlie to hug him and fuss over how she wondered where he was while he was gone...for about at least 10 minutes. A sly Chris remarked: “Hello nurse.” only for Mr. Boss to chide: "Ladies prefer a man who minds his manners, Chris." Smormu piped up: "Aw sweet, more girls to relate to and bond with! Everything's coming up Smormu!" Pim started to frown, the double-disappointment of repressing his own jealousy towards Mipnessa honing in on his man and being unable to clarify his true gender, but in a case of Morton's Fork, he'd still be hesitant to come out right away even if he did have his voice intact. His frown did turn into a smile once Smormu walked up to Pim to shake his hand. "The name's Smormu, what's yours?" while patiently waiting for a response, she took notice of Pim's barrette and let out a girlish squeal: "Oh my gosh, what a cute hair clip! Say, is that a golden pearl in the center?" Pim's face flushed, responding to the compliment with a curtsy. Mr. Boss chuckled at the demure stowaway. "While all be! She must have come from a wealthy family, perhaps even royalty." Mipnessa piped up: "Oh, how beautiful indeed! In fact, it reminds me of one of my own favorite pieces of finery!" Mipnessa quickly removed her shawl to reveal a gold-chain necklace whose focal point was a large creamy-white pearl embellished with diamonds, impressing everyone around her; even Pim excitedly shook his hands while thinking of a way to express a non-verbal compliment. Charlie knew this had to be the mystery critter, right? For a girl with the most beautiful voice, she was literally speechless. Perhaps she had laryngitis, or maybe she reserved her voice for certain times? Either way, Charlie was feeling even more conflicted with himself now that he really did have two potential brides to pick between: The proper lady he was arranged with, or the wild and elusive beauty he kept bumping into?

[whalefill]

🗣️ TELL ME MORE ABOUT SISTINE AND TOVE 🗣️

I know you said Tove is Sistine’s companion but whats the vibes? Familial (A bear looking out for a cub)? Does Tove respect Sistine? How did the two meet, and was it good impressions ir bad ones?

Also! Wizard man. Points. (Ik you said it was Francis’ character but god his design is so cool I wanna know more about him). Give me the good good

hi evren! :) thank u for asking <3

to be honest i haven't developed tove and sistine's relationship as much as i want to yet, but i can tell you some things about her! she's meant to mirror sistine's backstory (a beast turned human), but sorta in reverse; years and years ago she was just a little girl whose village was demolished in a raid by hysterian soldiers, and after escaping to the forest, she trades her humanity to a fae in exchange for a new life. she's transformed into a bear, and some years later, sistine finds her (also quite young at the time.) sistine has no memory of her own past life (yet), or any knowledge of what's happened to tove. all she can see is a very, very friendly bear. she finds out about it all MUCH later, when the two join ambrose on the story's main quest, and he's able to sense that tove is a creature of magic. it's quite a sad backstory but sistine is a very complicated character and it's part of her redemption arc to see just how much her kingdom (hysteria) wreaks havoc on the world, even and especially on the lives of those she loves, despite the fact that she was raised blind to it.

(my first concept drawing of her)

as for ambrose i'm not sure how much francis wants me to delve into him on my blog.. maybe if everyone is lucky i'll get it to talk about him itself :) but yes ambrose, is a wizard... sistines enemies-to-lovers situation eventually... kinda like if mothman was a transfem lesbian

and here is some art i made of them just this afternoon so as not to disappoint <3

[aishangotome]

Elbert Greetia: Blind Love Ending Chapter 25

Blind Love Chapter 24 Premium Story

♡———♡

If life were a fairy tale, it would be easy to find happiness.

A sinful and ugly monster is awakened by true love, becomes a handsome prince, and finds happiness.

But reality is more cruel than fairy tales that speak of such beauty as a condition for happiness.

--The chatter of people dances on the polished marble.

Bernard Trading Company's malicious "customers." The Queen has ordered their conviction, and I, along with several members of the Crown, have infiltrated a certain ball.

(This is...my last mission as a "one-month Fairytale Keeper".)

Alfons: This crowd reminds me of a while ago. When El wanted the "painting of the sea".

Kate: It feels like it was a long time ago.

Elbert: ...Yeah.

Alfons looked around the venue and yawned rudely.

Alfons: Ugh... Well-behaved parties are so boring.

Alfons: I wish the target would just show up.

Elbert: Roger is searching through all the sounds in the venue. I'm sure he'll find him soon.

Alfons: Roger, can you hear me? Find him quickly. I'm dying of boredom.

Kate: Won't that interfere with the search?

Alfons: Yes, it will.

Elbert: Don't you want him to be found quickly...?

Alfons: The ability to enjoy contradictions is what makes us human, isn't it?

Alfons: That guy can shut out sounds when he doesn't want to hear them, so he won't hear me anyway.

Alfons: I'm going to go get a drink somewhere.

Alfons: William is here for the mission, so I shouldn't be needed unless something major happens.

Alfons: If you need me, call me.

Elbert: Yeah, I got it. ...Have fun.

Alfons: Absolutely! I live to have fun.

Alfons turned around and disappeared into the crowd like a phantom.

Kate: Hehe... He's the same as always.

Elbert: ...I've been saved many times by that side of Al.

Elbert: If it weren't for Al... I might have been even crazier before I met you.

Elbert: Speaking of which... I remembered something I forgot to tell you.

Kate: What is it?

Elbert: Al was saying... about the day we got the painting of the sea.

Elbert: ...Thank you for trying to protect me.

Lord Elbert gently wrapped his arms around my waist.

Kate: Protect...? Ah, that time--

*flashback*

Kate: Lord Elbert. It seems the host hasn't arrived yet... Would you like to step outside for a bit?

Elbert: ...Kate.

Kate: Ah, well... Your face is a little pale, so I thought some fresh air might do you good.

*flashback over*

The feeling of not being able to bear seeing Lord Elbert's face turn pale came back to me.

(But...after that)

*flashback*

Elbert: ...Stop it.

Elbert: Stop touching her, stop criticizing her...

*flashback over*

Kate: ...Lord Elbert, you protected me that day too.

I didn't know anything about his past, his sins, but from that moment on, I knew his kindness.

Kate: Thank you.

Elbert: Mm...

The eyes of the people around us continued to observe Lord Elbert without hesitation, and the whispers that occasionally reached my ears criticized him as if he were a piece of art, but Lord Elbert's face did not pale, and he smiled gently at me.

Elbert: I won't let you make a sad face like that anymore.

Just then, a familiar loud voice suddenly came flying.

Elderly Man: Well, I saw you from afar and thought it couldn't be, but Elbert, it's good to see you again.

White Haired Lady: My, my! You've become even more beautiful!

I turned around at the familiar voices and saw the gentlemen who had been at the previous party.

(...These people)

I was just remembering the time I met them, and I reflexively became wary.

Elbert: ...Hello.

But Lord Elbert greeted them with his usual calmness.

(Lord Elbert...?)

Lord Elbert stepped forward, as if to shield me.

The glance we exchanged for a moment spoke to me.

(..."It's okay.")

Elderly Gentleman: Come now. Don't stand so far apart, let me see your face more closely.

The elderly gentleman reached out his hand without hesitation and strode towards Lord Elbert.

But before his fingertips could touch him, Lord Elbert spoke clearly.

Elbert: ...Stop it.

It was the same cold, resolute rejection he had given me that day to protect me.

Elbert: Stop touching me like that.

Elderly Gentleman: Wha...?

White Haired Lady: Wh-what do you mean, Elbert?

Elbert: ...Exactly what I said.

Elbert: After my father's death... I was taken care of by you.

Elbert: I want to repay my debt of gratitude properly,

Elbert: But... The only person who can touch me freely now is her.

He gently wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer.

The gentlemen stood there stunned, as if they had been bitten deeply by a beast they thought had no teeth.

Elbert: ...Let's go, Kate.

Lord Elbert was about to leave the scene when he suddenly remembered something and turned around.

Elbert: Ah, I should probably tell you this beforehand.

Elbert: If you try to harm her, no matter how much gratitude I owe you,

Elbert: I won't show any mercy... Just remember that.

Elbert: If possible... I hope we can avoid such a thing.

The two men, sensing the unease in Lord Elbert's gentle smile, left the scene quietly without saying a word.

Kate: Lord Elbert...

Lord Elbert had properly rejected those who would hurt him.

Joy burst in my chest.

When I looked up, Lord Elbert was smiling a little shyly.

Elbert: Did I manage not to make you sad?

--CHOICES--

I should have said something too

Yes, of course you did

You were great

---------------

Kate: ...Yes.

Kate: Yes, of course...!

Elbert: ...Good.

Elbert: ...I wonder if I went a little too far.

Kate: I don't think so at all.

For Lord Elbert to say that was going too far, he must have never blamed or insulted anyone before.

The change in Lord Elbert, who has become stronger, and his unchanging kindness are both so dear to me that it hurts my chest.

Elbert: ...! Kate.

As if he suddenly noticed something, Lord Elbert hugged me, covering me up.

Kate: Lord Elbert...!?

(W-with all these people watching...)

Elbert: ...No, with so many people watching...

Kate: N-no, what do you mean?

Elbert: You... You had a very cute look on your face just now.

Elbert: I don't want to show it to anyone else.

Kate: ...?

Elbert: ...I want to gouge out the eyes of everyone who was looking at you.

Kate: ...

Elbert: The person who was looking at you as we were coming here,

Elbert: And the person who was pretending to drink champagne but was sneaking glances at you.

Kate: Was there someone like that...?

Elbert: ...There was.

He hugged me tightly, pressing me close to the point of discomfort.

(He's jealous of even the slightest glance that I wouldn't even notice...)

Lord Elbert is almost scentless, but I recently learned that when he clings to me so closely that his body heat transfers, he has a faint sweet scent.

His desires are deep, his obsessions are dark and dangerous.

But I loved all of it.

Roger: What are you two lovebirds doing during a mission?

Elbert: ...!

Kate: Roger...!

I hurriedly pulled away from Lord Elbert.

Roger: Sorry, but this is work.

Roger: Target confirmed. Moving to a deserted hallway. Now's your chance.

Today's target is a high-ranking nobleman who used to assault the daughters of other nobles. As a valued customer of Bernard Trading Company, he would have beautiful women kidnapped and assaulted.

I remember feeling sick just imagining it when I heard the story.

Roger: I'll go inform Will. Make sure the target doesn't come back to the venue.

Elbert: ...Yeah, I got it.

Lord Elbert nodded quietly, and Roger disappeared into the crowd.

Kate: I'll go with you.

Elbert: Yeah... I can't leave you in this venue.

Elbert: I'll protect you from the sad sights... Come with me.

-

As I walked down the hallway, hand in hand with him, I kept thinking.

The reason Lord Elbert continues to stay with Crown.

He said he joined Crown to obtain something beautiful to atone for his sins.

But even now, after letting go of his atonement, he remains in this organization, in this darkness.

(That must be because--)

Elbert: ...Kate.

Elbert: Stay back a little.

At the end of the hallway, there was a figure.

The moonlight cast a black shadow.

Elbert: ...Good evening.

Man: ...!

It was instantaneous.

Without hesitation, Lord Elbert's toe stepped on the shadow, and the man's body staggered, unable to turn around.

William: --Kate.

Kate: William...

The King of Righteousness, who had appeared out of nowhere, seemed to grasp the situation and turned his gaze towards Lord Elbert.

William: Ah... Tonight, El's "evil" is even more beautiful.

Without immediately approaching, William looked at Lord Elbert with a cheerful expression.

William: Speaking of which--

William: Tonight's target seems to have had an unusual obsession with young ladies with blue eyes and blonde hair.

(Eh...?)

Man: Ugh... Ugh... What is this...?

At that moment, the man, who had turned around with unsteady steps, opened his eyes in astonishment.

Those eyes, even in the darkness, were clearly recognizable--ocean blue.

Man: Cecilia...?

Elbert: ...

Lord Elbert turned his back on the man without answering the question.

Elbert: ...Will, I'll leave the rest to you.

William: Yeah, leave it to me.

Elbert: Let's go, Kate.

(...Just now, the name he called was,)

(Lord Elbert's--)

The man who once assaulted noble daughters.

An abnormal obsession with golden hair and blue eyes.

(Perhaps...)

I started to think, but stopped.

There was no point in searching for the truth.

Lord Elbert was no longer bound by the past.

Man: Wh-what are you doing, stop it, stop--

Lord Elbert's hand gently covered my ears.

Elbert: You don't need to hear this.

Elbert: You don't need to see it.

Elbert: Sad memories can easily... kill people.

(...That must be)

(The reason you stay in this darkness.)

To prevent even a single sad event, like the one that happened to Lord Elbert when he was young, that would leave an unfillable hole in someone's heart.

(If you continue to resist sadness in the darkness like that,)

(I want to stay by your side... always.)

Even if it leads us to the bottom of the endless darkness.

A certain man was condemned by Crown, who "fights evil with evil".

From now on, there will never be another victim of the man's evil hand.

The truth that will be revealed tonight was enough for both Lord Elbert and me.

-

--If life were a fairy tale, it would be easy to find happiness.

A sinful and ugly monster is awakened by true love, becomes a handsome prince, and finds happiness.

But reality is more cruel than fairy tales that speak of such beauty as a condition for happiness.

Sin remains sin.

When a monster looks in the mirror, the reflection is still a monster.

But even with sin, surely--.

-

Victor: It's been a month since you came here. Time flies, doesn't it?

Kate: Yes, it really does.

One month after the promise, the last night.

Just like the first night I met them, I was facing Victor.

The report I wrote about Lord Elbert was submitted to Victor a few days ago.

Victor: You certainly kept your promise.

Victor: From now on, I want you to choose by your own free will.

Victor: The life you want.

Kate: Yes, Victor. I--

Kate: I want to stay in this castle and be by Lord Elbert's side.

Victor: Can you tell me why?

Kate: ...Because I want him to smile.

Kate: Lord Elbert... and someone somewhere in this country.

Unexpectedly, Daisy's smile came to my mind, and my chest ached painfully again.

Kate: My power is small... and I will probably make many mistakes.

Kate: But if I'm with Lord Elbert, I think I can handle anything.

After hearing my answer, Victor smiled brightly.

Victor: Thank you for telling me.

Victor: It's a very kind and wonderful choice, just like you.

Victor: If you choose to live in this darkness with him...

Victor: I welcome you, Kate.

Victor: Welcome to the world of the dark night.

-

Elbert: ... Aren't you cold?

Kate: I'm fine. If we stay close like this, we'll be warm even if the wind blows.

Elbert: ...Then, let's get closer.

Kate: Wow...

We walk hand in hand along the shallows of the early morning, slowly opening up, and talk about random things.

Occasionally leaving the castle and cuddling up on this beach is a blissful time for me.

(...I'm sure it is for Elbert too.)

I can tell by his expression.

A place where we can gaze at each other without being disturbed by anyone.

That kind of place is Elbert's favorite.

Elbert: Speaking of which... I think I'll get rid of everything in my room someday.

Kate: .....!

Kate: Then I can add a lot of things for you.

Elbert: .............

Kate: What kind of things would make you feel more comfortable...

I remember the seashell I picked up before, so small, being put in a fine box and still cherished.

(...It might be fun when that big box is full.)

Kate: Ah...

Elbert: ...What's wrong?

I just found a small, faintly glowing seashell at my feet.

When I squat down and pick it up, the shell that looked white shines in rainbow colors.

Kate: This is very beautiful, Lord Elbert.

I try to hold it out while squatting.

Kate: What do you think, Lord Elbert?

Elbert: ...Yeah.

Elbert: I think it's very beautiful.

Kate: ...Hehe.

I'm happy to get an answer other than "I don't know," and when I smile, Elbert suddenly looks serious and squats down next to me.

Elbert: You still... seem happiest when you smile because of someone else.

Kate: Huh...? Wow--

The moment I let out a small voice in surprise, I was hugged...

I lost my balance and fell into the shallows with him.

The chilly seawater gently wets our bodies.

Kate: Lord Elbert...mmm...

Before I could close my eyes, our lips touched.

Lord Elbert takes my lips as if to quench his thirst, and as he seeks me with an almost painful intensity, my confusion fades away, leaving only a growing affection in my heart.

Kate: Mmm...Mm...

Even though I knew Lord Elbert would get wet, I couldn't help but wrap my arms around his neck.

The more I felt his heat, the louder my heartbeat became, and the sound of the waves faded away.

In between our drowning kisses, Lord Elbert whispered, as if revealing a secret.

Elbert: I'm sorry... Right now, I want your kiss.

Elbert: I want it, I want it so badly.

Elbert: Ever since we met... Every time you smile happily,

Elbert: I'm... My eyes are captivated, my heart is stolen. It scares me how much.

Elbert: If this continues... I might even want your life next.

Elbert: Holding you tight in my arms, making it so you can only see me.

Elbert: Whispering in your ear so you can only hear my voice.

Kate: ... El...

Elbert: Your body temperature, your gaze, your voice, all of it... even though I have it all to myself.

Elbert: It's still... still... not enough.

Elbert: I want you... all of you.

Our lips meet again, stealing my breath away.

The water that wets my skin, the sound of water that reaches my ears, kisses so intense I can't even breathe--

It's like I'm drowning in his desire.

(Why is it... I'm happy, yet...)

(It's painful, and I feel like crying.)

Elbert's curse, its nature is "greed."

Once directed towards the most beautiful thing in this world to atone for his sins, that desire is now all focused on me.

He wants all of me, to make me happy.

Kate: I want to give you everything too.

Kate: But... just like your heart and body belong only to you.

Kate: My heart and body can't completely belong to you.

Elbert: ... I know.

Elbert: Even if these lips stop breathing... and you can't go anywhere.

Elbert: I will surely want to see "you," to make you smile, and it will become unbearable.

"Unsatisfied and gaining nothing" -- that ending will surely come.

Because it's impossible for a person to truly possess another person completely.

Kate: Even so...

Kate: Even if being by your side continues to torment you.

Kate: ...Can I still be with you?

When I confessed everything honestly, Elbert embraced me without hesitation.

With a smile far, far more beautiful than a bisque doll.

Elbert: It's okay... even if I can never truly possess you.

Elbert: I want to eternally seek you, struggle, suffer, and die.

Elbert: ...That is my happiness.

Even with the burden of sin, the two of us can find happiness.

Even if we get hurt, even if we hurt each other--

As long as we're together on this beach, I'm sure.

FIN

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Blind Love: Epilogue

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