#Rune is too patient

[cali-n-fae]

How to flirt in 4 steps

(According to Fae)

Undertale by Toby Fox

Underfell by Vic the Underfella

Zeatale and Rune by @goddessofdragons-zt

Chaostale of Underdorks by C&A&F

----

The poses are a reference to a bird's flirting moves that he saw somewhere on the internet during an intense session of doom scrolling.

We've managed to find back the source for credit, but we aren't good enough with pets to be sure if all of the behaviors displayed on that channel are OK. Some animal behaviors can be seen as cute when in reality they are the sign of something bad. We do not have the knowledge to determine it. We give the name but not as a publicity.

We support animal's rights. If there is something bad we are unaware of it so please inform us. Thank you.

The reference : @BeakerBeak on YouTube.

[pierswife]

your ships are just so comfy/comforting. it’s about friendship and getting to know one another. it’s about being there and understanding each other and communicating for you. like your ships to each other are like coming home to each other after a long day and sitting down together, talking, maybe about the day or whatever comes to mind, but so long as it’s each other, makes the end of the day feel so relaxing.

THIS!!!! Direct and clear communication is such an important thing to me. I can struggle with it sometimes myself, but I always try and put the effort forward and I just want someone to reciprocate that. Like not to get too deep into it, but in the past I have been snubbed by people who refused to communicate their feelings to me, so it's kinda made me put up higher walls than I meant to which is what made communication difficult on my end (also cause I hate worrying people). But if it's someone I am close with? You can bet I will try my best to push past that--

[asleepinawell]

thinking about her (waterfowl dance)

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

full hc request: mc and m6 celebrating holi ?

(i am friendless this holi and i will cry over it)

-🫧 anon

The Arcana HCs: Celebrating Holi

~ most of this is based off of childhood experience celebrating in South Asia, thank you for resurrecting all the fun memories anon! ~

Julian

He loves the concept of it

A community event, full of color and celebration? Heck yeah! This extrovert is pumped and ready to spread the joy!

This extrovert is also a doctor

And this doctor is already gearing up for the aftermath - for all the people who caught cold running around in wet clothes, the injuries from hopping around on wet cobblestones and twisting ankles ...

... the overenthusiastic celebrants falling into the canals and bumping their heads, the kids who always end up licking the color powder and find out the hard way what they're allergic to ...

And of course, the mild panic he experiences for the next week seeing faded stains on his patient's skin and faces and briefly mistaking them for bruising

Seriously, why do bruises turn every color of the rainbow??

But all that aside, he's excited to celebrate with you and will even bend down so you can smear some color on his face and eyepatch

Asra

Oh, they are thriving

This is easily one of his favorite events of the year. This gets more planning and preparation time than ... most things, really

They insist on making (or at least, modifying) all of their own colors and stock up on everything from powder to paste to dyes they can mix with water and spray at passersby with a water gun

Some of them he enchants to be holographic. Others, to hover menacingly in the air and then engulf whoever walks close enough

It's one of the few times when all the kids in the neighborhood flock to them because they know that nobody will kit them out for a proper water fight like they will. It's on

His hair is going to have colors lingering in it for over a month

The magic use does get just a little bit out of control, sometimes - they've been politely asked to stay away from the town square, since the statues still occasionally puke neon rainbows

Will put a spell on you that morning so nothing can stain you

Nadia

Does she enjoy and look forward to this festival? Yes. Is she stressed beyond words? Also yes. She needs a break

The sheer logistics of organizing a national holiday aside, Holi is messy. The streets are full of people, traffic is impossible for the day, injuries are spiking from partying too hard, and the cleanup

Don't get her started on the cleanup

Vesuvia has plenty of white marble statues and fountains that end up coated in the rainbow every year (though it's gotten easier since a certain magician was banned from the town square)

Not to mention the series of legal cases afterwards when some merchant passing through sells a load of poor quality colors

That won't stop her from enjoying it with you. She'll set up the garden and spend an afternoon chasing you around with her palms covered in color, darting out to leave smudges on your cheeks

If she moves a little more slowly to ensure that she gets covered in your colors as well, then. That's for only her and the shrubs to know

Muriel

A festival so exciting and intense that crowds of people flood the streets and smear colors all over each other with abandon?

Yeah, you can count him out

The concept of celebrating color and the triumph of good over evil is delightful, but you both know that if he joins he'll suffer at best and have a full-blown panic attack at worst. Better not

He'll celebrate with you in his own way

You'll find a forest clearing, pull out all the environmentally friendly colors you've stocked up on, and goad him with rainbow fingerprints into a playful game of tag among the trees

His artistic side will make itself known, waiting for you to tire yourself out before he sits next to you and traces swirls and runes all over your arms and face with featherlight touches

Of course, this only works if you're distracted with something while he does, or else your eyes on him will make him freeze up and blush. (the shaky little smudges those cause are the best)

Portia

She adores Holi and she is Prepared

She knows all the tips and tricks to get through the day with as little misfortune as possible. Old, cheap clothes that you don't mind getting stained. Oil on your skin and hair before you go out

And of course, a mom bag stuffed to the brim, half with celebration essentials and half with mischief implements

You look tired and a little overstimulated. Here, wipe your face and hands with this damp towel and drink some water. She packed snacks - do you want a cookie or a sandwich?

You look like you could use an advantage. Here, take this dye filled water balloon and throw it at the nearest street sign - the partygoers underneath will have it in their hair for weeks

Her favorite celebration spots are right in the middle of wherever the kids are having their massive water fight. Nobody can amp up mediate one of those like she can

Will shamelessly cover your clothes in her handprints

Lucio

He loves it for the first fifteen minutes or so

A town-wide celebration that fills the streets? Heck yeah, he is all in and having the time of his life! He has permission to splash color all over random strangers? Awesome! He's going all out -

... until he starts to receive the same treatment, which means his hair is getting messy and his clothes are going to stain and there's dye all over his face and absolutely ruining his eyeliner

Yeah, he's done, and he's going to start sulking if he doesn't get a hot bath nice and soon

Mercedes and Melchior, on the other hand, are having the times of their lives. It's chaos dialed to the max and they love the chance to weave between people's legs and splash colors everywhere

Of course, they also have gorgeous long silky white fur, which gets absolutely saturated with pigments and dyes as they run wild

Bathing them afterwards is a legendary nightmare and the pastel hues linger on their backs for quite a while

[tadpolesonalgae]

Demon!Azriel x reader: Teeth and Talons - Part 9[***]

A/N: idk even know what to say about this one. I think I traumatise myself a little more with every chapter (in a good way…?)

Warnings: blood—like a lot of blood, obviously unsanitary but ✨magic✨, biting, blood play, smut, 5.7k words

-Part 8- -Part 10-

He’d breathed power into you. Power that your human body is not meant to carry. And while you can feel the tips of your fingers, the nails pressing onto your toes, and every tooth in your mouth, you know it won’t last. The sun is setting within you, and when the last ember of his magic dies in your womb, you’ll go with it.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, padding quietly over that stone floors of the dormitories, hidden deep within the temple’s nest. Crypt is more like it.

He’s still wreathed in shadow, appearing no clearer than a reflection in muddied waters. His form ripples as he moves, keeping his gaze ahead—knowing you’re following on his heel. He’s keeping an eye out for something—someone.

That someone is waiting for you at the steps that lead out from beneath the holy building.

Robed in white and pale blue, silver circlet perched on her brow, Elain watches you with hard eyes. No—she’s staring at Azriel. He stops a little way from her, just out of reach of the carved, wooden thyrsus. Slender, pale fingers tighten around the staff, knuckles pressing out beneath the constraint of skin. “You have made your choice, then.”

It’s no question, but you nod. Cold, hollow eyes flick to you, “remember what I told you,” she says quietly, that strange glow appearing about her again. Brown melts to cocoa, mouth softening from its hard line. “You will always have a place here, remember that,” she says to you, “no matter what form you take. Do not forget yourself. Do not forget the human woman inside of you.”

————

Elain’s words are little more than a low buzz in the back of your skull as Azriel brings you to an outcropping on a weathered mountain ledge.

There’s no light in the sky tonight, the stars seemingly taking shelter within the darkness. The air is still, humid, but you’re on the wrong side of tepid. Your temperature has been rising gradually, in almost unnoticeable increments, but sweat is dampening your hair, trickling down the notches of your spine.

Azriel prowls forward to the flat rock face, canines slipping out as you hear a distinct ripping sound. He presses his taloned hand to the hewn stone, and lightening crackles in the air, fizzling in your ears, sizzling your skin. The mountain rumbles in response—Ramiel, Elain had called it—and strange symbols glow on the stone, as if lit by the light of a forge. A mix of runes and sigils that are too old to be recognised by any of your kind—perhaps even by his.

Then the wall gives way. Simply disappears. Revealing a looming passageway, sinking downward.

He turns toward you, eyes the colour of the descent that’s patiently awaiting. Why would it be eager? It know you’re going into its mouth one way or another, there’s no need for hurry.

A warm breeze licks up your spine, reminding you how your night robe is sticking uncomfortably to your skin, suctioned on by sweat. A shiver wracks your stomach, muscles seizing and spasming in the night. You take a shaky step toward him, toward the cave mouth, waiting to step foot on its cold tongue, but he stops you.

Instead, he takes you by the jaw, a razor-sharp claw presses in your mouth, a metallic liquid flowing across your tongue followed by a dull warmth. His canines press into his thumb before he pushes its pad to the incision on your wet muscle, blood mixing in your mouth. Your senses go dim, the cold biting into your feet little more than a slight pressure, the sweat on your skin little more than a light brush of misty fog, the night a little more than varying inky splotches.

A deep shadow towers over you, leaning down as you’re lifted from your feet. “Hold your breath,” he orders, softly. You follow the command, rasping in a ragged huff of night-warmed air. He steps into the rock’s mouth, and the mountain seals.

Cocooned within the damp passages, you curl into yourself, keeping air tight in your lungs. The walls press in, smelling of mildew and tilled soil. You keep tucked into him, instinctually recoiling from the passage way, the darkest grabbing at your ankles; tugging at your hair. Shadowy nails rake down the bloody chambers of your heart, eyes squeezing shut as Azriel pulls you tighter to himself.

“Release it.”

You exhale softly, feeling dizzy with the strain, like your torso will collapse with the slightest breeze. Like your ribs are full of cobwebs and dust. You head pounds the deeper he takes you, the temperate dropping steadily until you’re shivering. “Azriel…” you whisper weakly. He shushes you, fingers gently squeezing your skin, “a little longer.”

You swallow down the whimper, nestling closer, delving into his warmth as silky shadows encase your bare legs, wrapping over your arms; flowing over your chest like a thin blanket. Elain had warned you of this, had told you what to expect; how to prepare yourself for the crushing intensity of Ramiel’s stomach. How to cope with the insane pressure that’s strangling your bones of life.

Taking in a breath, you cast your mind back to the conversation, recounting the description she’d given you of her own Ritual.

————

“What happens in the Ritual?”

The tea is piping hot, almost scalding your throat as you swallow your first gulp. You gasp for air to cool your mouth, and Elain smiles softly, offering a glass of water which you take gratefully.

She sighs, leaning back in her chair, eyes going a little cloudy with memory. “It wasn’t…I struggle to speak about it,” she begins, hands cupping her mug as she peers into the milky tea. The edges of her mouth droop, shoulders sloping, “even with Lucien, it’s difficult.” She raises her head a little, meeting your gaze, something sad and remorseful flitting through her cocoa eyes.

“I thought I loved him at the time. Azriel, I mean. And I think he thought he loved me, too.” Her brow wrinkles, lips pursing as she tightens her hold on the cup. “They have a sacred mountain. It’s the only place the Ritual will work, though I never learned why. Something about a build-up of power, every Ritual performed requires a small sacrifice which infuses the mountain with magic. I don’t— I don’t know much about it, nor do I have an interest in learning.

“Even under his thrall, I knew there was something wrong with it. Like Ramiel was rejecting the very essence of my humanity. It was a discomfort deep in my bones, like something ancient and unseen was pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe.” She sucks in a deep breath, straightening, taking a sip of her tea. You don’t miss the shake to her delicate hand.

“I have no time frame to offer you; everything was so distorted I have no hope of untangling it. I’m not sure what happened, just that my mind was scrambled the second he took me inside. I can recall vague impressions: some runes on the passage walls, pathways leading away—deeper into the mountain, fractals spinning in the damp rock. What I’m trying to express, is it’s unlike anything created by man. Entirely other. As if fashioned with darkness in mind; forged for the occult.

“After the descent, the narrow passage opened into a vast cave that smelled damp. Musty and unused. I can’t remember the cave in great detail—it was very dark, you see. So dark only a creature like him would be able to navigate the chamber.

“I do, however, recall being set on a raised, stone platform. It was circular, and had no end I could feel within my immediate reach. That being said, I didn’t have much control left in my body at that point so my area of mobility was severely limited.” Her eyes are milky white.

You don’t dare speak, in case it washes away the last scraps of memory she’s dredging up.

“The Ritual… As I said before, it’s not something I care for. I have no interest in understanding how it works—I’m not entirely sure any of them know what happens, or how it was set up. I remember my younger sister telling me what she knew, but it was all rumour and myth passed on tongue, predating written language.

“He warned me it would be unpleasant. He gave me a choice of how it could happen, just two options.”

You hold your breath, tea forgotten.

“I could endure it as I was, experience the change on my own. Or I could…” she stammers, features becoming a little paler. A hint of colour dusts the crests of her cheek, though she refuses to lower her head. “Or he could relieve the intensity by taking it with me.”

Your brow furrows, “what do you mean, taking it with you? I thought the Ritual…” you trail off. You don’t really know what you thought. “You said something about becoming stronger? I thought that meant being changed into one of them,” you say, swallowing. “One of you.”

She nods. “The Ritual will make you immortal, so you can live like them; exist in the Underworld and the Holy Lands.”

“What’s…? That sounds…good.” You say, slowly, considering your words. “What’s the… I mean, I can’t see an obvious reason why not to take it?” Her brow narrows slightly, and you worry you’ve said something wrong. “Living forever is not as wondrous as you might think. Watching those you love grow old while you remain young? Watching their bones crumble with the weight of the world while yours stay strong? It is not a pleasant experience.” Her voice is sharper, terser than before, and you realise this might still be an open wound for her.

You open your mouth, “exactly how old are—”

“You’re getting off topic.”

You snap your mouth shut.

She releases her grip on her teacup to take a sip, drinking daintily. “He will most likely offer you a similar choice. It is up to you which path you take. I most certainly will not fault you for either.”

You wait, fingers fidgeting in your lap, but she doesn’t continue. You shift, “is there anything else?”

Milky eyes begin to darken, returning to their colourful state of warmth. Elain shakes her head, “as I said: I remember very little. Though I would advise you to take his offer, when he gives it to you.” She shivers, but there’s no breeze. “I imagine it would be quite unpleasant without the distraction.”

————

He takes you down further, runes decorating the rock wall.

He carries you by winding passages that seem to have breezes blowing inward, as if trying to suck in wanderers. He remains steady. Fractals spin at the edges of your vision, disappearing when you try to look directly at them.

Stairs wind down, going deeper into the mountain, until you’re surely below ground level. And still you go deeper.

He carries you down until the passage opens up, revealing a vast cave, a flat stone altar at its centre. The place Elain spoke about.

You’re here.

Azriel takes a step forward, then halts. Even with your poor eyesight, you can feel the weight of his gaze. Goosebumps prickle over your skin, and you nestle into him, greedily sucking in the warmth and power that’s humming around his person.

“Isn’t this it?” You croak, feeling like death. Sweat beads on your brow, perspiration slicking your already damp skin. His eyes narrow on you, judgement weighing heavily in your stomach.

Then he turns from the altar, grip tightening on you, lips pursing.

Desperation trickles down your spine, fingers trembling as you hold him tighter. “Azriel…” you rasp, “what…? Where are you…?” Breath catches in your throat and you manage a weak cough. Shadows swirl over your torso, wrapping tighter, as if keeping you together.

“You’re weaker than the others,” he says quietly, a soft growl dragging form his throat. Shame tightens in your gut at the reminder, and you look away from him. “You’re going deeper. Where it will be more concentrated.”

Darkness writhes at his back, building over his wings as they flare, magic crackling in the air. The rock trembles, then gives way, revealing another passageway. Leading down.

You whimper, pushing into him, away from the opening. “Azriel…” you pant, “please…I can’t—” Another round of wet coughs bubble from your throat, barely enough force to dislodge whatever’s getting stuck there.

His dark eyes flick down to you, then he shifts you in his arms, lifting and moving you so your legs are tucked around his waist, arms guided gently over his shoulders. If you had the energy, you could purr. Nestle closer into him, feeling the firm press of his chest against your own, the strong muscle lining his body, the soft, silky locks at the nape of his neck.

“Hold on,” he murmurs to you, one arm beneath you to keep you up, the other around your back, pressing between your shoulder blades then trailing down to grip your waist. Your spine arches, dipping as his forearm brushes the bone, holding just above your hip.

“I just want it to be over,” you whisper onto his skin, head resting on his shoulder, tears blurring your vision. “It will be,” he replies quietly. “Just a little longer.”

Tremors skitter over your skin, limbs going limp in his arms as you weigh onto him, relaxing into his strength. Feeling each smooth step as he takes you deeper. Darker still.

The air grows thicker; more stagnant. As if previously untouched.

You shiver in his arms, only focusing on where you’re connected, the shadows soothing your skin. “How much did she tell you about this?” He asks into the darkness. You know who he means.

“A little,” you rasp, feeling weakness sink into your muscles, turning them to mud.

He nods, probably for your benefit. “This is going to be different,” he murmurs, and his hands might have tightened on you just there. You have no energy to inquire, so you wait for him to continue. He doesn’t.

“You’re going to be fine.”

It doesn’t reassure you like you had hoped.

Silence swallows your senses, and you’re pretty sure you pass out for a little, because when your eyes next open, things have changed.

No longer in the passageway, but within the mountain’s stomach—wide and cavernous. A quiet splash sounds as Azriel moves, a faint metallic smell wafting about, a suggestion of iron. Light flickers on the walls, dimly registering in your eyes as he continues forward. Carrying you to your end point.

“You’re doing this with me, right,” you whisper. Your voice breaks at the end, betraying your quiet terror. Muscle stiffens beneath you, but he continues moving.

“Yes,” he says at last, equally softly, coming to a stop. His hold lessens on you, giving you the chance to pull away. You try and sit a little straighter, weary and tired. A fatigue that’s settled into your very bones. Even sleeping forever wouldn’t get rid of it.

You peer at him through the darkness, his arms supporting you as you do so. “What’s going to happen to me?” You whisper again, tongue trembling in your mouth, feeling at once dry and like lead. Your lower lip wobbles, but you bite down, keeping it stiff. Eyes flick across his features, searching for a hint.

Something passes through his gaze, but it’s gone too quickly for you to read. Instead, one of his hands cup your cheek, pushing away the damp hair that’s plastered itself to your skin. “I’ll make sure it feels good,” he says.

Then his mouth slants delicately over yours, and you recognise the feeling it brings in.

It’s like that first time with him all over again.

Heat sings in your blood, making it boil and bubble. Scorching your skin. His name whispers through your mind, lips forming shapes of letters you’ve forgotten.

The cave is vast, a dark liquid coating the floor, and he’s taking you deeper. Red washes the stone, fire burning in tall stacks at five different points within the chamber. Humid air washes down your throat, filling your lungs, smelling faintly metallic but everything’s so dim and dark it’s impossible to tell. How bright is the flame for your eyes to pick it out?

Heart pounds in your chest, and you curl into him, needing to feel his skin. Need to feel his touch, the soft dust of fur grazing your thighs and stomach, the scratch of claws through your hair. A small sound drags from your lips, sweat beading on your brow, head twisting to bury into him.

His hands tighten around your legs, pressing your shoulders closer, tucking you into his heat, his scent wrapping around you. If you had the energy, how wonderful it would be to have him. Taste, lick, swallow, gulp. Take, need, have, own.

“Azriel…” Letters rasp from your tongue and he’s doing something—moving you. “Azriel…I need you.”

Sweat slicks your robes, dampening further as he sets you down, breasts dragging over his chest, body dragging against his own, until your feet touch that wetness. Up to your ankles. Up to your calves. Metal and iron.

Blacked out eyes find yours and breath whooshes away at the raw sight of him. Some kind of veil has been ripped off, fire and shadow burning in his pitch black gaze, an intensity thrumming beneath his skin like a heart beat, loud and clear to your ears.

The flames burn hotter, glowing brighter, pale bones holding the massive fire bowls. Blood bubbles around your feet, the cave floor flooded with the dark liquid, the vastness of some past slaughter vaguely dawning in your mind. How much life is contained within the dark lagoon, the immense strain of power that’s glittering just beneath it.

“This isn’t…?” You look at him weakly, his hands on your hips, keeping your pressed to his front. “…where am I?” He blinks, and you catch the thin layer of film that slides across his eyes just before his eyelids snap shut, and open. “Undress.”

You stare at him, too sickly to muster up a reply. You just stare. “Where am I?”

When he leans down, fingers hooking in your robe, making to pull it off, you don’t have the will to protest. The scrape of his talons up the backs of your thighs setting the liquid heat in the pit of your belly bubbling. A reminder of his touch, how it feels to have his hands on you. How it feel to have him on you. It’s what you’re craving.

So you melt.

Eyes roll to the back of your skull and you stagger, shadows winding up your legs, sliding up your spine, bracing your torso as the arousal slams your mind into a stone wall. Hands grip onto him, nails stabbing at his tough skin as you cling for stability. “Azriel…” you pant, panic twining with your plead.

His eyes gleam in the ruby light, orange and gold flickering across his skin, “yes?” Fangs glint under the flame, catching the sparks on the white enamel. Grinning.

Your vision tilts, and your grip tightens, skin pressing onto him, arms winding around him, fingers dragging over him as you begin to push yourself into his body. You nose at him, taking in his scent and you can feel him shifting beneath your finger tips. Liquid arousal gathers between your thighs as leather dissolves to soft fur, the constraint of clothing turning to nothing. Warm, sturdy muscle surfacing. Should you look up you would be met with a beast. Fangs to slice into your throat, talons to dig into your flesh, eyes to pierce into your soul.

A moan spills from your lips, breaths becoming shallow as that incessant itch becomes deeper and deeper and you need him, need him, need him.

He laughs, deep and dark, tipping you upward by a hand to the throat. Feels you swallow. “Want me?” He asks. The ghostly brush of his lips over your own. Your brows curve upward at the cruel question.

Of course you want him. Can barely think of anything else.

Eyes flutter shut, tilting toward him. Elongated fangs graze your lips. Press closer, and they slice.

You tip over the edge.

Hands slide up over his shoulders, hooked talons wrap around your waist, trapping you against him. Mouth opens up, teeth slicing at your lips but blood tastes good. Thick and rich. Aches blossom on your tongue, stinging dulling and healing then reopening as his saliva heals and his canines create those delicious incisions as you kiss him. Tongue flicks out, pressing up the razor-sharp canine, hot, spiced liquid bursting between you, dripping down your chin.

You moan loudly into his mouth, his name playing on repeat in your head as you plead for him, arousal thrumming and humming and buzzing across your sin, zapping the sensitive space between your legs.

Nails drag through his hair, pressing up onto your tiptoes to be closer. His hands slide down over your rear and you moan into his mouth, blood and pleasure mixing and his claws rip through the white robe. Skin is bare and wonderfully free. Fur soft and silky and you could cry at the sweet sensation.

Azriel snarls into your mouth and you want to give him more, want him to bite into your flesh and take you apart in the most appetising way possible. With great control, you pull away, only in favour of moving his hot lips to the soft expanse of your throat. Urging him to bite, to drink, to feed.

The wet muscle laps out, pleasure and pain singing down your spine seconds later as he buries himself in you, hot, thick blood spilling down your shoulder, saturating the remains of your dress. Head tips back, lips parting in silent euphoria. He growls at the taste, pushing deeper, drinking more and more, until you’re swaying on your feet.

Hands release you, blood swallows you.

Falling back into the sanguine pool.

You moan as the rich liquid warms your skin, coating you, bathing you in power. Darkens your hair with wetness. Spine arches at the sheer immorality of the scene. The darkest depravity as you bathe yourself in blood. Gleams on your teeth, colouring your lips as you smile, tongue flicking out as you stare up at him.

His grin is like none other he’s given you. Pure beast, pure animal. Too wide, and too eager to be anything remotely human. You don’t care.

He steps forward, and you move back, pushing away from him slowly—teasingly. It’s never a good idea to taunt a wolf, but here you are, a lamb wandering into the butcher’s hands, trotting up and pleading for the carving knife. Bowing her neck for the severing slice.

The rock shifts beneath you, blood growing shallower, beast drawing closer. Herding you to the butchering block. You follow his guide, moving to be atop the hewn stone, where the hot liquid laps at your sides instead of swallowing you whole.

Dark lines pulse beneath his skin, veins of blackness thrumming beneath the fur lining his stomach, mapping a pathway down his abdomen. He reaches the foot of the slope, and begins prowling upward, slowly closing in on you. There’s not a single part of you that’s afraid of him, every inch of skin craving to be adored and devoured. Absolutely massacred.

His clawed hand encases your ankle roughly, pulling your leg toward him, blood dripping from your calves down into the pool. Teeth open over your flesh, bitting and kissing his way up as your spine arches at his own form of worship.

When you have fangs like his, you’ll return the favour.

Dark eyes pierce into you, your legs bend at the knees, flickering with interest. Your grin doesn’t belong to a lamb. He know that, too.

Starving hunger blazes in his gaze, a quiet moan exhaling from your lips as you open wider for him. Lips pull back from his teeth in a snarl, and he pounces. One hand slams down on your shoulder, rock biting into your back as he snarls, low and viciously. Blood drips off your chest, nipples peeking beneath his ravenous attention. Teeth bite into your neck, and you know he’s hitting that first scar mark, setting it deeper, making sure it sticks.

Rough stone slices into your skin, but you don’t care. The blood from the cave seeps into your skin, but you don’t care. Something powerful and wicked, ancient and entirely malevolent claws at your insides, rendering you anew, and you just. Don’t. Care.

You moan louder when you feel the weight of his length over your slick heat, a growl rumbling through his chest, and you could swear deep whispers fill the vast cave. Chanting, speaking in tongues. He pays them no mind, so neither do you. Not even as the blood really does begin to bubble, or as the fire drips from the golden bowls, beginning to form a ring.

Nails dig into his back, wings flaring in a display of dominance and ownership as the tip of his cock presses against your entrance. Your hips wind against him, begging for him to push in, to fill you so full there’s no room for anything else. Until everything is out of you, and you’re left empty and gloriously silent.

Azriel’s fingers thread through your hair, thumb smearing the blood across your cheek, and you catch the tip of his talon on your tongue. He groans at the action, pressing the plushness of your lower lip, angling the digit so his claw can slide inside. The wet muscle flicks over the pad of him thumb, eyes latched onto his as you slice and carve yourself upon him.

The head of his cock pushes inside, and your eyes roll back with pleasure, knowing what’s coming. So caught up in his web of sin you don’t notice as the sickness burrows deeper, curling within you, painting you in his self.

“Azriel…” you pant, “deeper.”

His eyes gleam with satisfaction and something far more sinister but you have no care to examine it in detail. All you care about is how big he is, how he’s filling you up as he presses in, keeping you pinned to the bloody floor of the dim chamber. His lips twist into a hellish smile, teeth slicked in red as they gleam with golden firelight. Fire that’s still spilling from the bowls, tightening the ring until it’s trapping you both inside.

Slowly, they begin to carve a five-pointed star through the pool.

The two of you at its epicentre.

His hips press tight against your own, and whimpers ebb from your lips, flowing to his ears as your iron-tinged scent wraps around him, keeping him locked in a haze of pleasure. He basks in the wet heat of your cunt, the soft press of your thighs tightening around his hips, urging him to move. He dips down once more, mouth opening over your own in a messy kiss—messy from the razor-like teeth. A mouth filled with tiny blades.

The world spins a little as his hips drawn back, then push in.

The dark cave pool heats, steam rising from its surface as the fire blazes brighter, finally completing its symbol. Trapping you within. No matter this is nothing like what Elain described. This is so much better.

He slams in to the hilt, and fire crackles in your heart. Lightening sizzling your bones, scorching your skin. Cooking you from the inside out. Pain blares in your marrow, inner lips stinging as your gums ache from tiny lacerations, splitting.

Splitting as fangs force their way through your flesh, ripping at tissue as teeth grow. Teeth matching his. Two canines protruding from your upper lip. You can hear his hearts beat, tripping in a triple rhythm of three.

You open your mouth over his shoulder, still pounding into you, and you bite.

He howls, the roar sending ripples through the bubbling blood, making the flames flicker. He coats your tongue, spilling into your mouth, filling your stomach as your bones and muscle shift. Tighten over one another, bonding to become stronger. Other.

The cave becomes lighter, snapping from blinding colour to pitch black, until they finally settle. The smell you’d be veiled from finally hits you, and you gag. The metallic stink shoves itself up your nostrils but magic crackles in the air and it’s gone. His magic.

Azriel pulls away, and pleasure tightens in your belly as you mark the puncture wounds stamped onto his shoulder. His hips slam up against yours and claws rake down his back.

His pupils dilate, and he’s shoving you down into the pool, one massive paw splaying across your chest, talons hooking you in place. A scream rips from your lips as the transformation passes over your lower body, unimaginable pleasure crashing into you, bludgeoning your brain as it’s sizzled and scorched. Vision blurs as euphoria rips at your skin, head tipping back, saturating your hair in the liquid magic.

There’s hardly time for breath before your muscles are acting for you, guiding you to what you need.

Claws dig into him, sinking into flesh as he’s flipped onto his back, allowing you to straddle his hips. You snarl down at him, revelling in the pulse of power that’s gliding through you, filling you with life and energy and anger.

So much fury that had the cave not been cast in red before, it would become bloodied to your eyes. All the repressed rage that had been slowly building, every snap of jealousy, every burn of envy. Everything gloriously sinful, awakens.

The mountain trembles as ire glitters in your blood, keeping Azriel trapped beneath you as you finally take. You take, and steal, and rob, just as he had done to you.

He snarls in fury but there’s so much power within you now, binding and raging at the sight of freedom he remains floored.

Your hips wind over his, cock buried deep inside of you, and the snarl cuts to a blissed out moan. Hands grip your hips, talons unable to slice your leathery skin as he helps lift you up to his tip, then slam you down. He bucks upward simultaneously, spurred on by the sharp jerk of your hips as you grind onto him. Pleasure sings and your head falls back, allowing him to use you—to give you the world.

Snarls and growls rumble in your chest, tongue flicking over your blood-coated teeth. His blood. And you smile.

Wild. Feral. Unhinged.

You look down at him, the red, toothy grin on your lips as claws slash out from your fingertips. Moans flow as you bring them down upon him, slicing into his skin, crimson droplets beading in their wake before the lacerations heal.

His eyes gleam with pride as you raise your nails to your mouth, tongue flicking out to taste him, pleasure buzzing in your head, fluttering between your legs. His satisfaction curls deep in your chest, sharpening the edge you’re riding.

Your hips swirl over his and it’ll only take a few more…

A few more and then—

You scream.

An otherworldly, beastly howl.

His eyes widen with hunger and awe as your head tips back, and you come on his cock, nails stabbing into the muscle of his stomach, burying in the soft fur that trails to his abdomen.

Words once again rip from your mind, leaving only feeling and wonder as he continues slamming up into you. Overstimulation wracks your body, but you can’t summon the will to order him to stop. Spasms tense your muscles, everything going taut then supple, Flashing so quickly between the two that it’s absolute heaven for him. Pounding up into your heat as you flutter and tighten around his cock, urging him to spill into you.

Your hips move of their own accord, as if able to sense how much he wants to fill you up, how desperately he needs to pump you full of is cum until you’re unable to move or breathe without some spilling.

You urge him on as you squeeze him, hips winding and bucking even as your mind goes blank, world spinning and tripping with the overload.

The pentagram flares with power, zapping your skin until you’re tingling all over and he roars. Hot, thick cum spurts into you and you moan. Vision blurs with pleasure, fangs biting into your lower lip until blood trickles down, dripping from your chin onto your breasts, splattering across his stomach.

The muscles flex as his hand slides into your hair, dragging your mouth to his as your fangs collide, carving up one another in the frenzy. You groan as his cock shifts inside of you from the movement, body answering as you grow, fur dusting the soft skin between your legs in luscious, thick swirls.

His lip pulls back from his teeth with pleasure, matching your shift, cock widening beneath the base as you continue roughly winding over him.

You’re still so dizzy and so dumbed out—tunnel vision leading you to the next high.

You grip him back, hands brutally gripping his silky, blood-slicked hair as you eagerly devour him, breasts dragging over his chest. Nipples grazing his skin, bodies pressed so tight against one another you could pass for one single, hellish creature.

Soft snarls bounce off the cave walls that had been previously untouched for centuries, smelling slightly damp but now filled with arousal.

Claws click together as you grip and grab.

Teeth and talons snap, biting and scraping over skin.

Humanity shredded to pieces.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

Az Taglist: @thekingravkadeserves

[nerdpoe]

A Jotunn, a Pirate, and a Wraith walk into the DC Universe-

Debated making this it's own post, but since it's been put up on Ao3 I might as well.

Part 2 (and one really, this started as an addition) , Ao3

Danny has an Ice Core. He isn't aware of it, but this does, in fact, greatly influence how his ghost form looks as he grows up. A ghosts Core is essential to how they mature as a ghost, after all. A speculative piece on the group's possible Adult Ghost Appearances as they grow up. (Yes Dan too)

The summoning ritual was finished, and John braced himself for Klarion's imminent arrival. Bruce could only hope that what the mage had to offer would be considered valuable enough for the chaos demon's assistance.

But something was off.

Instead of the burst of hot air that so often heralded Klarion's arrival, there was a silent rush of cold.

And someone much more intimidating stepped through.

The man's hair was white, his eyes were a pale, glowing, piercing green, and his skin was as pale as the snow that had started to fall. Taller than Superman, quieter than Batman.

He wore a furred mantle that bore no resemblance to any animal Bruce knew of. His hair was braided out of his face, his armor bore shimmering Ancient Nordic designs that were so old, Bruce couldn't find a single rune he knew.

Hovering above the man's head was a crown of solid, glittering ice. It sloped and spiked, and every movement shook snow from it's small peaks. Above that, hovering between reality and a dream, a miniature Aurora Borealis flickered in and out of view.

The crown was less a crown and more a small group of mountains, plucked from Norway and shrunk into something befitting the being in front of them.

Looking upon him forced Bruce to confront his own mortality, because this entity was dripping with lethality. Not the type he was used to, not the kind that could be met with the cold steel of a blade or the sudden, numbing hot-cold pain of a bullet.

The kind of mortality that he feared.

The quiet death in the wilds; alone, hungry, and scared.

Staring at the being that had been summoned, Bruce was struck with the feeling that he was watching a wolf as it observed him. Patient. Cold.

Knowing that no matter what it did, it was going to get a free meal if it only took a day or two to wait.

Bruce was broken from that silent, obtrusive knowledge when the entity looked away from him, eyes searching the battlefield.

Then the being took a silent step forward, ice tendrils branching out from where he stepped, his eyes having entirely fixated on the Mage that had summoned him.

The cultists that had been working for Nergal slowly turned and started standing in line with the Justice League, prepared to defend against...this.

Whatever this was.

Constantine backed away slowly, swearing under his breath and shaking.

The entity looked towards the cultists, letting out a small, disdainful hum.

As one, the cultists bolted, leaving behind their tools and sacrifices to summon their false god.

The Justice League, far too preoccupied with whatever was in front of them, couldn't do much to stop them.

The being took a deep breath and sighed through his nose, causing a gust of wind cold enough to make Bruce's skin sting.

"Well, this is awkward," the being sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "Uh...did you guys need me for something? I was kind of in the middle of hiding from the Observants."

Bruce's brain paused. Rewound.

Restarted.

Assessed.

Oh God this was another Clark; frightening stature, polite, down to earth nature.

"I'm sorry, hiding from the who?" Bruce heart himself ask faintly, as he forced his body to understand that he wasn't in any present danger from the...person in front of him. The man turned his attention from the wheezing magician and back on Bruce.

"Kinda like a council, super annoying, keep trying to make me do paperwork."

"I...see. We were actually trying to reach Klarion, is he unavailable?"

The man sucked in air through his teeth and rested his hands on his hips, scuffing one of his shoes on the ground.

"Oof, yeah; Klarions a little bit in Time Prison right now. Genuinely didn't think anyone wanted to willingly deal with him, or I woulda sent you guys like, a note or something. Want me to just do what you were gonna have him do?"

Constantine stared at Bruce with wide, terrified eyes and shook his head.

Bruce considered it.

"What price would you have? We wanted the cultists captured and their artifacts broken."

Constantine graduated to desperately crossing his arms in an "X". Superman was looking at Bruce like he was insane. Bruce ignored them.

"Uh...my little sister is actually a huge Static Shock fan. Any chance of an autograph?"

"I can arrange that."

I highly advise reading the original prompt, as it has many additions from other writers and artists. It also has fanart!

[the-volunteer-host]

Triple fun

Malachi and Loram were waiting for the full moon to be in position to shine through the window to the study. Everything was prepared for the summoning, nothing to fancy just a small incubus that's what the plan was.

So far, they had merged their bodies several times before and even though this was a quite lustful experience each and every time it always felt like something was missing.

When the moon stood in place the runes on the floor started to shimmer blue. Just seconds later he was there, didn't look all to demonic thought Malachi to himself when he realized he looked like a horned version of Loram. "Probably because he drew the summoning circle" he thought to himself. All the while Loram couldn't take his eyes of the being that had just appeared before them.

"I am Zakli, why did you summon me?" said the horned being without looking all too pleased about the situation.

"We need you with us" replied Loram.

Zakli crossed his arms before his muscular chest and tilted his head a little to the side. "You need an Incubus, well why didn't you say so right away." A mischievous grin showed on his lips.

"Not that simple though" said Malachi the blond guy who had slowly been moving towards Loram from the back. At first Loram felt the other man’s breath on his neck and then it began. Malachi moved closer than what should be possible. He shoved his left arm straight into Loram’s back side and from there into the other man’s arm.

Pleasure was showing on Loram’s face, he didn't want to wait any longer, so he leaped backwards and pushed himself and Malachi onto a chair.

The spectacle that Zakli was watching clearly entertained him. At first the two man who had summoned him stumbled backwards a few steps. However, when Loram’s legs touched those of Malachi they became one. The same thing happened to their hips and lower body. While both men were already sporting quite the physique now, they became more muscular as one. More hair manifested on Loram’s chest, and their joint arms were quite even more muscular than Zakli’s.

It was also quite clear that this process not only aroused Zakli but also the merging ones, since they were sporting quite the bulge below their leather jock strap.

"Wait I want to watch us enter him" said the blond man interrupting the process half way. It was quite the sight there: A hunk with half of another guy somehow coming out of his back looking over his shoulder.

Loram gestured for Zakli to come closer and take a seat before them, which he did. Just a few words of magic and a wave of a hand later Zakli’s backside began to glow in the same blue as the summoning circle had glowed before. Pleased, Loram lifted one of the legs he shared with Malachi and slowly shoved it into Zakli’s glowing back side.

The feeling was arousing for all three of them, not even Zakli had ever felt something like this, merging with mortals - Especially ones that merged among themselves already.

While Loram was enjoying doing this very slowly his friend Malachi was not that patient. Malachi seized control of their joined left arm and hand and grabbed straight into their leather strap and began rubbing their joined cock. This caught Loram off guard who let out a loud moan, but it aroused Zakli even more, he felt it all even though the merge had only just begun. Zakli felt his own dick twitch according to the rubbing Malachi was giving theirs and it was driving him mad.

It was time to test if this small connection worked both ways, so Zakli reached into his pants and gave his own dick a few strong jerks, which was instantly commented by loud moans from two mouths behind him. The smirk in his face returned.

"A game of lust with an incubus, you mortals have no idea what you are in for." Said Zakli before stemming his feet against the floor and shoving himself backwards with all the strength he found.

His back absorbed all of Loram and Malachi’s leg without any resistance, however he could feel them being added to his own leg right away. But this all went so fast there was no time to enjoy every bit of this, he needed it all now. Next his back side touched their chest, which made his chest swell up immediately.

An evasive reflex made Loram try to back off which made him hammer his head straight into Malachi’s head. While a viewer could have expected a broken nose on Malachi’s end from the sheer force, none of it happened. Their merge just finished and for a very short moment a light brown haired bearded man sat there, Lorachi as he had called himself on past occasions.

But the merging continued no time to adjust to the new perspective and joined mind this fast. Now it was just seconds, Zakli’s head and Lorachi’s collided and became one, their entire bodies seamlessly merged into a new being. Zakli’s left arm was holding his own dick and now merged into Lorachi’s arm which was holding "their" dick.

Everything went into place within sheer seconds. After a few moments of heavy breathing the new man was still holding on to his very new and very impressive cock. He was leaking so much precum, not even the incubus that was part of him had ever felt that horny.

The process was so forced and fast that everything felt overwhelming to say the least.

"Time for a test I'd say" said the new man and began jerking off his new toy, while the three voices in his head more and more went into unison over their moaning and felt pleasure.

Once again heavy breathing was filling the room when he came all over his chest with the first shot landing straight in his moaning open mouth.

[caroldantops]

you make my world spin

ship: scarlet witch(616)!wanda/soft milf(838)!wanda/little!reader

summary/request:  no plot, just soft mommas and their little one.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: MDLG (18+), selfcest ig. potential multiverse of madness spoilers? more like just allusions to it. but other than that just fluff!

a/n: Mommy = 616 Wanda; Mama = 838 Wanda. thank u to motts and britt for helping indulge the double wandas thoughts that plague my brain

Tendrils of red fly through the air as Wanda flips rapidly through the Darkhold. You watch in fascination, the sparks illuminating your face in a soft scarlet glow. Wanda hasn’t acknowledged you since you came down to the basement and crawled over to her, much too absorbed in studying the runes in front of her. 

Despite being content in the domesticity of her life now, no longer needing to use the dark spells to explore multiversal lives, Wanda still studies the magic of the Darkhold. She claims it’s to help keep the universe she’s invaded stable in spire of her presence and to protect your home if needed. It took a long time to convince her variant that she had destroyed any actual copies of the Darkhold, and what she had was simply her own creation from what she remembered, holding none of the corruption that brough her to where she was today. 

Mama Wanda always tells you not to go down to the basement while Mommy Wanda is casting spells, worried about you getting caught in any crossfire as Mommy haphazardly flings spells around the room. But Mama fell asleep on the couch after her third episode of New Girl, and you got bored after you could no longer show her the pictures you were coloring. You grabbed your favorite stuffie - the teddy bear that Mommy brought from her own universe, the one that was modeled to look like a cheesy version of her suit - and ventured down to the basement. 

You don’t want to bother Mommy. You know that the spells she makes are much more dangerous than Mama’s. But she’s been down here all morning, and you want her attention! 

Mommy most certainly knows that you’re waiting for her to say something to you. But she relishes that sweet pout that you give her when she’s ignoring you, so she draws it out a long as she can. 

You’re not feeling patient today, already bored and needy for touch. Mommy’s legs are criss-cross applesauce, as they usually are when she’s working. Perfect. You crawl over to her levitating form, placing your head against her thigh and gazing up at her concentrated face. 

“Does Mama know you’re down here?” Wanda asks without even sparing you a glance. 

“Mama’s sleepin’,” you explain, tracing the material of her red suit with your fingers. The dark splotches that stained it once have since faded, but you many of the cracks in the armor remain. 

“Hm,” she hums, knowing that telling you to go upstairs will probably result in a tantrum that she isn’t in the mood to deal with. You take her lack of orders to leave as permission to stay, so you immediately start climbing up to her lap. “Now, what do you think you’re doing, little devil?” 

“Gettin’ comfy.” You squeeze yourself in between her and the Darkhold, tucking yourself into her lap, struggling to keep yourself steady since her floating makes it harder to keep upright. Wanda grunts when you elbow her in the chest, and you freeze, looking up to see her clearly trying to contain her frustration with your wiggling. “Sorry, Mommy…” 

“Just let me…” she sighs, grabbing you and turning you around to face her, slinging your legs to wrap around her waist. You squeak, wrapping your arms around her as she adjusts you. As you do your teddy falls to the floor behind her, rolling dangerously close to the candles illuminating the room. Wanda doesn’t notice, focused on making sure you won’t fall out of her lap. “There, is that better?” 

“Wandabear!” You cry, making grabby hands at the stuffed animal. Wanda rolls her eyes as she flicks her wrist, levitating the toy back into your grasp. 

“Sometimes I think you love that thing more than me,” Wanda says, sounding rather unconvincingly annoyed. In reality, she loved how much you adored your “Wandabear” (as you uncreatively named her) because it was the first gift she ever brought you. Mama still teases her about how soft you’ve turned Mommy. 

You finally calm down, satisfied with your Mommy giving you the attention you were craving. Your thumb makes it way to your mouth without you realizing, Wanda’s heartbeat and soft mumbling to herself lulling you to sleep. 

When you wake up, you find yourself on the couch, with no Mama or Mommy to be seen. You can hear moving around in the kitchen, so you assume that they must be in there. Wandabear is tucked under your arm, and a soft handknitted blanket is draped over you. We Bare Bears is playing softly on the television, drawing your attention for a few minutes. One of the Wandas - probably Mommy - must have clipped your pacifier to your shirt. You slip it between your lips, fingers twirling the loose threads of the blanket as you watch your show. 

A clatter from the kitchen makes you jump, clutching Wandabear close to your chest. “Mama? Mommy?” 

“It’s okay, baby!” Mama calls back. Even though you want to keep watching your show, you’re lured into the kitchen by the thought of food being made. Mommy and Mama are both making ingredients and dishes fly around the kitchen with their magic, and you playfully try to grab the bag of Goldfish that floats by you. “You’re going to get hit in the head with the way Mommy’s flinging things around, baby. Let’s go sit at the table while we finish making lunch, okay?” 

“Okay, Mama,” you agree, plopping yourself on your soft cushioned seat at the table while you watch Mommy and Mama fuss over whether to give you your cookies before or after you eat your sandwich. You place Wandabear in the seat next to you, scooting a plate of plastic food that you refuse to let Mama take off the table towards it.

A gentle hand grabs your attention by stroking your hair, and you bounce happily as Mama places your plate on the table. Mommy comes over with both their plates, setting them up on either side of you (after moving Wandabear to sit next to you at the head of the table). You start shoving Goldfish in your mouth before you realize that Mama forgot something very important. 

“Mama, crusts!” You pout at her. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Mama sighs, getting up to grab a knife from the drawer. 

In the meantime, Mommy starts hand-feeding you the crackers, smiling at the way your lips wrap around her fingers when you take a bite. “Mama has such a bad memory sometimes, doesn’t she, little one?” 

“My hearing, however, is perfectly fine,” Mama says as she sits down and starts cutting your sandwich. You miss the playful glare that Mama gives Mommy, too busy grabbing your sandwich triangle and stuffing it in your mouth as soon as the crusts are gone. “Slow down, darling. You’ll upset your tummy.” 

“Mmkay,” you say through the mouthful.

The three of you finish your lunch, and Mommy picks you up and carries you to the living room while Mama cleans. Mommy turns on a big girl show, but you’re too distracted by sorting through the drawings you started earlier. Mama finally finishes cleaning and joins Mommy on the couch, curling into her side. They both watch you color happily, humming one of your favorite theme songs to yourself and chewing on your pacifier. 

“Nothing happened while they were in the basement, right?” Mama asks Mommy too low for you to hear. 

“Wandabear almost caught on fire, but other than that, no.” 

“You know I still don’t trust the Darkhold. Even if it is just a copy.” 

“I understand,” Mommy says solemnly. “But you trust me to keep you both safe, correct?” 

“I do.”

“Good. Because I always will.” 

[lammydraws]

COTL x SDV Crossover AU

I've been brewing something, and it's not Ancient Fruit Wine I promise. Inspired by Husky's Farmer AU I started working on a Crossover AU with Stardew Valley.

Prepare for some of my unfiltered notes and messy doodles.

Lamb - Charlie, he/they

Their family owns a livestock farm, which is owned by their parents. He and his siblings often help out around, taking care of the animals but he still has enough freedom and time to help other villagers and farmers such as Narinder. Livestock because that's kind of similar to taking care of the cultists, right? Right?? :'D

(this is basically like Marnie's Farm)

Charlie was found as an infant in the forest by his parents who brought him home to be raised like one of their own children. He is not aware of that, but he understands junimo language & can sense a certain aura from the deeper parts of the forest. He's also better at picking up the magical aura surrounding the magical creatures.

Bishops

Their god form is similar to their Eldritch form, whilst their disguise / mortal form is similar to their regular Bishop design. In their mortal form they still stand out though, considering they're usually taller than regular villagers and always surrounded by a mystic aura of sorts.

Narinder

Narinder moved to the valley recently. It's not clear if he did so on his own wish or if someone, or something made him. Either way he's here to start a new life, and despite not having any experience he still somewhat grows into this role. He's glad he can turn over a new leaf without the prejudice of his past life.

Lamb welcomes him the day he moves to the valley and quickly notices he has no idea what he is doing, and after watching him struggle for a bit he offers his help. Narinder, being too prideful to ask help on his own accord, accepts the neighbouring farmer's advice and help albeit a bit hesitant at first.

His original domain is the very bottom of Skull Cavern, but since he left for unknown reasons the residing monsters have run wild and rampant and the very cavern itself has twisted and distorted by the uncontrolled magic, making it run seemingly endlessly.

Twins

Baal is a full time adventurer in the Adventurer's Guild, he frequently goes on long trips down the dungeons to slay monsters, collect loot and bring home ores, minerals and weapons. Aym used to be an adventurer as well, but stepped down from a full time position after he injured his eye. He runs a flower shop attached to Forneus' General Store & sometimes helps out in the Guild selling goods. 

Most other characters fill pretty expected or similar roles.

Forneus runs the local general store.

Rakshasa works at the Saloon.

Kudaii runs the blacksmith/weaponsmith. Clauneck is the fortune teller, perhaps also with a semi-permanent location in or near town.

Fisherman runs the fish shop.

Leshy

Leshy, a magical, possibly godly creature residing in the deep woods [based on the DeepWoods Mod that adds an infinite dungeon to the secret woods]. Sometimes he surfaces to the lighter parts of the forest. Not the only godly creature in the valley.

Heket

Heket resides in the Witch's Swamp. She stays mostly hidden and rarely shows herself to mortals, being more reclusive and drawn back. Few villagers are aware of the strange rune in the cave near the Railroads leading to her Swamp, and even if any dared to enter they'd be chased away quickly.

Kallamar

Kallamar resides in a deep ocean cave near shore. He frequently exits his domain to pass as mortal and help the villagers around town, usually dealing with illness and disease. He does not disclose his godly status though and villagers are under the assumption he's the doctor from the next village, coming into the valley ever so often to help patients.

Shamura

Shamura is the museum curator, at least that’s what it seems like. Them being the oldest they are very skilled at passing as a mortal with little to no flaw. Despite this they avoid the outdoors and don’t attend any holidays or town gatherings so as to not slip up in their disguise. 

Their origin is unknown, but some suspect them to come from a faraway island.

[wings-of-ink]

How would the ROs react to a shy MC just nervously asking for a kiss while blushing up a storm and avoiding making eye contact with the ROs?

(Ps. As I said before, absolutely love your work! <3 <3 <3 So stay hydrated and get plenty of rest.)

Awe, thank you so much, Anon! I will drink water in your honor today! ^_^

For your Ask (it has me all flustered, lol)...

Oswin:  At the beginning of a relationship when he would be the most shy, he’d be partially relieved that for once it’s not him that is the blushing mess. He’d also be inexplicably enamored. While MC is struggling to get through the interaction, Oswin would take charge. He’d cup their face and gently turn their head to him before he pressed a long, sweet kiss to their lips, and then one on their forehead.

Zahn:  Eating it up. They wait and watch the adorable MC struggle, knowing full well what they want. They make it more difficult by reaching out and playing with MC’s hair - sinking their hands into it, petting it, massaging their scalp - while they get closer and closer to MC’s face. They lock their eyes onto MC’s as their lips meet, and now Zahn is blushing too.

Duri:  Always plays with their food before they eat it. They bite their lip and study MC like a specimen as they flounder to get their request out. They’d pepper MC with questions - ‘What has you so red?’ ‘Is that nerves I hear in your voice?’ ‘Why do your lips quiver so?’ Then, Duri would get right in MC’s ear and whisper, “Show me what you want from me.” But, MC is promptly devoured before they have a chance.

Rune:  Debating between finding it cute and enjoying it and putting MC out of their misery. They listen patiently with a small grin. There’s something about them making MC a stumbling mess that almost makes them tear up with joy. That someone cares enough about what they think or do that they flush and stutter. Before MC can finish their request, Rune places a gentle kiss to MC’s lips and then envelopes them in a hug as their own heart races.

???:  Making it worse for poor MC. When MC averts their eyes, he moves to meet them or he gently turns MC’s head back to him with a gentle hand. Once MC is trapped making eye contact, he begins to undo the laces at the neck of his tunic, run a hand through his hair, and bite his lip. He waits until MC finally gets their question out and says, “Come and take what you desire from me.”

Thank you for Ask, Anon! ^_^

[an-au-blog]

In the east blue asylum, Sanji isn't in love with Nami, he isn't hitting on her, he doesn't have a crush on her either. But they are close and with time become closer, they understand each other in ways the rest of the patients can't really. They came at nearly the same time, they both suffer from suicidal thoughts and are both in the mental institution because they tried to take their own life.

They often hang around each other and he often gives her his food (to simulate eating). She takes it, though she doesn't want to encourage him in his self-proclaimed "diet", but she also didn't want him to get in trouble again. Every time they saw he hasn't eaten, they make up a "punishment" for him. It's usually small things like only allowing him to wear plain white clothes, or that one time they told him he couldn't go in the yard or the music room until he finished an entire plate.

Nami liked the food, as opposed to Sanji who would always complain when he ate. It was always lacking in something. The only meals he ate without complaining, were the ones his former boss - Zeff, brought him. He'd never eat it in one sitting and he'd often throw up if he ate too much or too fast. Zoro had to keep him company in the toilets while he hurled his guts out more than once. But then he would cry because he didn't want to waste the food that the only familial figure from the outside made for him.

So Nami made a bargain with him. For every bite she took, Sanji would take one as well. If he felt like he needed to throw up they would stop.

They decided to keep it a secret from Luffy because they knew that his childlike honesty could get them in trouble. So Luffy just assumed that Sanji really liked Nami since he always gave her food. And Luffy's main love language was good sharing so it made sense to him. Luffy ate a lot but he also has crazy metabolism, plus he burned a lot from runing around and climbing on everything like a monkey (hence the name Monkey D Luffy, which was just someone calling him "monkey the Luffy" as a joke, but he liked it a bit too much).

[crypticjackal13]

My mom: *sees me hard at work crafting and not talking to anyone just spacing out with my headphones in* wow I wonder what's got him so quiet?

Me: *thinking about tired MK. MK who has had enough of everything. MK who ever since the spider Queen has felt like a weapon, like if he stops training or doing ANYTHING then everything will fall apart. MK who has tried everything under the sun to feel better and cope but no one understands--not truly. Not enough that the burden of being the hero gets any lighter. Even working alongside Mei, his best friend in the whole world, he feels the need to be the leader, because as great as she is she doesn't have his powers. MK who, ever since the Lady Bone Demon, has a bittersweet relationship with the Monkey King, to the point where he can't look him in the eyes anymore because when he does it just hurts. MK who, as soon as he gets the perfect chance, goes to see macaque to see if MAYBE he has some advice, though deep down he's just worried he'll be tricked again.

Macaque is intrigued at the kid's sudden lack of energy and how everything about his energy just seems darker. Still, Macaque tells his true opinion to the kid when MK asks about the Monkey King. He's just Wukong, just a lazy immortal who only ever disregards others. And when the kid leaves with an odd sag in his shoulders he can't help but feel worried for him, even if he tries to deny actually caring about him.

MK who goes off on his own without telling anyone. MK who stops by Redson's house to ask if he knows any good demonic runes or something to make it so people can't find him. MK who disappears for a fairly long period of time and no one can get a hold of him because even though Redson thought it was a strange thing to ask for, he still complied because it was worse having to look at MK's oddly sad face.

MK who gets used to being alone. MK who never settles down, is always on the move in between different cities and towns, and he has no idea why but there's always some sort of half assed care package waiting for him by his bag in the morning, and along with it a poorly drawn doodle of him. On his birthday, there's a full note, signed by all his friends, even Macaque, not asking him why he left, but just asking him to come home safely.

MK, who, after a full year away from home, makes the trip back. He's happy to see that the city hasn't fallen apart without him, happy that he won't have to clean up a mess.

MK, who walks into Pigsy's and feels a lump in his throat when he smells his favorite recipe being cooked. Pigsy, who just about jumps over the counter to embrace his son, Tang joining in, and as if she could sense it, Mei appears too and causes the three of them to collapse onto the ground as she throws herself into them.

MK, breaking down into sobs without any words as he allows himself to be loved. The Monkey King, who goes to MK instead of the other way around, very patiently waiting his turn to speak to him because he knows this is a lot for anyone who missed the kid. Macaque showing up as well alongside Redson and both will still deny how much they care for him but they don't even try to mask their relief at seeing him safe and in one piece as he sits down to eat a proper meal.

MK, who goes to sleep that night in his childhood bedroom at Pigsy's place instead of his apartment because they both need the reassurance that the other is there.

MK, who feels refreshed after finally getting a break from everything.

[alexanderlightweight]

More cat boy Alec, please, it’s so cute

uh yes. cute. malec is definitely cute. saeth thinks so at least but like... they think a wide range is cute

i hope yu enjoy

<3 lumine

— “I’m not so weak as that, kitten. No, but it is an annoyance. You shadowhunters are supposed to work fast, you have speed runes.” Bane smirks at him then, “every ten minutes that passes you will remove an article of clothing of my choice.”

Alec swallows, because that means he’s probably going to be naked sooner rather than later. This team doesn’t know New York. They’re working with Alec’s Institute but there is no guarantee they’ll listen or understand what they’re being told. He’ll be out of clothing within two hours and well, Alec knows there are traps here. He just can’t figure out what they are.

“What happens when I run out of clothing?”

Bane gives him a pleased, approving look and Alec lets himself preen at the attention for all of a few seconds before he catches himself with a scowl at his own lack of control.

“I get to dress you with a piece of my choosing for every ten minutes after you run out of your own.”

It doesn’t sound bad, which means that something is going to give somewhere.

This entire thing is too open ended and if it weren’t for the clave breathing down his neck and a marriage hanging over his head well… even without that, Alec would probably still not be as bothered as he should be by this situation.

It’s just hard to be upset when strong warmth is supporting him and firm, magical hands are teasingly petting the inside of his ears and the base.

“I—” and Alec means to inquire further, to ask more questions, but then Bane’s hand raises to take another sip and Alec’s tail — still wrapped around Bane’s wrist — gets gently tugged.

Alec whimpers on a breathless agreement that he can barely vocalize for the way that he’s trying to get as close to Bane as possible.

“Then send them a fire message, kitten.” Bane murmurs and his golden eyes are so gorgeous that Alec could get lost in them. “The clock starts now.”

—

Magnus has no reason to hurry but no reason to wait.

He’s not a patient man when he doesn’t have to be and why not reward himself for a contract well made?

“I think your tail deserves better treatment than such tight clothing.” Magnus murmurs as he lets his fingers trail the near tailored waistband that clings to Alexander’s firm muscles. “Take off your underwear kitten.”

Alexander stalls, face blanking at the sudden predicament he’s in as he hesitates from where he’s perched on Magnus’ lap and Magnus’ smirk grows.

Alexander can’t leave Magnus’ lap without starting a war, which mean his darling little kitten has to figure out how to undress without leaving Magnus lap. As for help, well Magnus will only give aid if his kitten asks nicely enough and even then, he’s not going to be nice about it.

There’s a quick moment of quiet breathing and Alexander’s tail tugs on his wrist in what seems a subconscious movement.

“I need to turn around—” and its clear Alexander is trying to figure out how to ask for permission without giving Magnus more to use against him.

“I’ll make sure you don’t fall, kitten.” Magnus teases and he palms Alexander’s hips and lets his talons puncture the leather just enough for Alec to feel the tips. The minute Alexander’s body starts to turn, Magnus takes advantage and twists him so that he’s seated on Magnus thighs.

One of Magnus’ arms curls around his waist and the other he reaches up to pet Alexander’s ear.

A quiet moment of frustration later and then Alexander shifts, hips giving little jolts as his thighs and legs work to toe off his boots and then his socks. He’s rubbing and grinding deliciously against Magnus and even with all his strength and battle runes activated, he has to take a moment to rest. His head lolls back, resting on Magnus’ shoulder as his nose tucks away from the crowd and into Magnus’ neck.

There’s a quiet little sigh, as if in relief and then a softer, more mournful one as he pulls away.

Alexander gets a hand on either side of Magnus and lifts himself up.

Technically, he’s still in Magnus’ lap and well, Magnus is enjoying the view and the show of strength.

“Help me, please?” Alexander asks and Magnus leans forward to lick the beads of sweat of Alexander’s neck even as his hands eagerly find and slowly unbutton Alexander’s pants. Alexander’s strong arms shudder as Magnus slowly unzips him. It’s easy to let his talons drag against soft, unmarked skin as Magnus slides down the pants just enough.

It means Magnus gets Alexander back in his lap, shimmying as he gets his pants off.

“Time is passing.” Magnus teases, breathlessly eager and his kitten gives a little huff before Alec is once against lifting himself up.

Magnus waits and lets the seconds drip into a minute before Alexander — finally — quietly murmurs, “please?”

It would be better with Magnus’ name on his lips, but that will come soon enough.

Magnus doesn’t need to, but he lets himself cup Alexander as his fingers move up to find the waistband and he pulls them down with a tender slowness that drags fabric across sensitive skin.

“Good kitten.” Magnus murmurs and Alexander settles back into his lap with unsteady desperation.

— It’s only after Alec’s caught his breath — not even hunting and grappling have made him use these muscles to this extent or while testing his restraint so greatly — when he realizes the problem he failed to catch.

It feels impossible, to speak to Bane without looking into his eyes and Alec doesn’t ask permission this time, he turns — if Bane wants him in his lap for what could be hours upon hours then so be it — and settles back into straddling the king.

It feels different this time and Alec feels reluctantly exposed — though he’s never minded his own nudity before.

A hand settles on the small of his back before fingers start to pet the base of his tail while pushing him forward.

Alec goes — what else can he do — and tries to form his questions as he lets Bane manipulate him.

The stares of Bane’s court feel hot on his back and the air feels cool on the backs of his thighs and where his tail meets his jacket, leaving bits of his ass exposed.

“That was more than one piece of clothing.”

“It’s not my fault what I wanted off required more than asked for.” Bane smirks as he says it, golden eyes gleaming with smug amusement and the clave likes to call Bane a ‘horned lizard’ but Alec can’t imagine how anyone can pretend that Bane isn’t what he is.

Maybe if Alec had been prepared for a dragon — not that anything could have prepared him for the truth of Bane — could think up a counter argument. However he’s too overwhelmed and then his ears twitch and flatten in disdain at hearing the graphic murmurs of appreciation for him throughout the crowd.

“Are they saying things about you kitten?” Bane asks and an almost coy smile spreads across his lips. “I almost can’t blame them. You look so pretty when you’re not hiding your tail away.” His words are punctuated with massaging fingers that dip teasingly down. “That doesn’t mean I’ll forgive it though, they should know better.”

Bane says it casually but both his hands are now cupping Alec’s ass, talons kneading delicately and Alec leans forward to nuzzle Bane’s scaled jaw and admit that this particular battle isn’t forth the fight.

Better that he accept the loss now but then, some parts of Alec were bred to tangle fire.

“I didn’t realize you needed to cheat to get your way.” Alec murmurs and Bane’s fingers tighten to the point of bruising — Alec muffling a whine that wants to break free — as he’s rocked forward.

—

“I don’t need to cheat.” Magnus says and he’s delighted by the little spark Alexander is showing. It’s adorable and Magnus decides that now, he really does need to cheat.

Just for the fun of it.

A small tendril of magic goes to reinforce the lodestone that the rift has tethered itself to and Magnus tugs on Alexander’s tail with an absent thought.

“Since you’re so insistent, I’ll let you have an extra twenty minutes before I ask for the next piece, if—” and Magnus smirks as Alexander watches him suspiciously, “you let me mark you. Just twice, kitten.”

“What kind of marks?” Alexander’s voice is rough but steady and it’s a pity that he’s still coherent enough to be sensible but Magnus does admire that. It just happens to also be inconvenient at times.

“Nothing permanent.” Is all Magnus will promise and he kneads Alexander’s ass even as he mentally adds a silent ‘yet’.

“Okay. Yes. That.”

It’s a breathless and desperate agreement as if his sweet kitten knows he’s about to regret it and Magnus just knows he’s going to enjoy tonight immensely.

[raayllum]

The first time they're able to go to the Banther Lodge as a whole family, Ezran is still too little to really play—he's just started to be able to grab things (mostly jelly tarts, or the gold woven into the ends of Harrow's hair) and so Callum spends most of that time stacking blocks for him, much to his delight. 

Harrow can't help but smile, watching his boys interact. Callum has always been a bit shyer and more reserved, he'd worried slightly how he'd respond to having a new brother... one that's his and Sarai's, another shift and change from the father he once knew and lost.

But Callum has taken to it as naturally as anything, caring and doting and patient, eyes alight whenever Ezran giggles and claps his hands, like his little brother is his whole world. 

Most of the blocks are pretty simple, so when Callum hangs onto one and traces the sides, Harrow looks up from watching Sarai snooze peacefully on his shoulder (Ez is still breastfeeding after all) to take note. 

Callum has one of the bigger blocks in his hands, different runes on either side, and Harrow smiles. He forgot all about that family heirloom left behind in the game room. He remembers his father passing it down to him when he'd been fifteen, confused and too old for toys and a little more enchanted when his father had rolled his eyes and explained the old legend behind it.

Sometimes you do not have to understand tradition to uphold it, he'd said.

Debatable, Harrow thinks, watching Callum play it. He's always been an intelligent, thoughtful kid, taking quickly to Sarai teachings of how to read (even if sometimes he gets distracted and doodles in the margins). Curious. 

Harrow hums to himself, smiling when Sarai stirs and catches sight of his face. “What is it?” she rasps, yawning.

Callum traces the Sky rune at the top. 

The cube is a great and powerful secret, his father had said. To something sealed away in Xadia. 

A mystery Callum may enjoy solving one day. 

“Nothing,” Harrow replies. “Just thinking about the future.” Sunlight streams in and makes the Star rune glint like a lantern. He wraps an arm around his wife's shoulders. “And how bright it is.”

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: M6 when a spell goes wrong and MC is stuck as a toddler for the day

Reverse scenario is here:

~ to set the scene ~

You had just finished breakfast together, and your beloved had stepped out for a few minutes to look at a message that had just arrived for them. You stole the opportunity to open the notebook you'd been developing a complicated spell in and add a rune or two that might help.

Wait, you didn't mean to close that circle yet. Wait - that's a very bright light. Wait. Your hands are way too small, and while you're mentally intact as yourself, you can definitely feel the effects of being a two and a half year old. You're just now feeling the need to scribble on your arms and legs with the pen you dropped when you hear the door open.

Julian

He's a smart guy, he puts two and two together very quickly. He steps out, he notices a bright light under the door while he's out, he comes back in, there is a small child with your eyes drowning in your clothes, it's obvious that that is you

Just because he understands quickly does not mean he isn't surprised. He is very surprised

"Woah! Someone miscalculated! Can you speak? Is your brain tiny too?"

As soon as you say yes, he's melting. Your voice is so small! You are so small! You are so cute!! Is this what your kids would look like? Can he pick you up? How long are you going to be like this?

Once you tell him he can pick you up, he'll sit at the table and ask you about what happened. He's listening closely but he's also trying to hide the way he's squealing internally over your tiny voice and baby pronunciation

He grew up with a baby sister and has treated his fair share of small patients, not to mention that he has strong familial instincts

He knows you'll only be like this until the evening, but he has a mighty need to see you in baby clothes

He has a mini heart attack from cuteness when you put on one of his shirts like a dress and he has to roll the sleeves up for you

He's just looking at you, slowly turning red from the effort of not squealing, fixing you with the most delighted grin while you try to get him to pay attention to what you're saying

That's it, that's how the rest of the day goes. Just him alternating between subconsciously demonstrating impeccable parenting skills and zoning out completely because those shoes are so small and they are so cute on your feet he needs to buy them now

He'll take you on a tour of the South End with you balanced on his hip. He's fascinated with how differently you perceive things as a child, and you're capable of communicating that to him

On less busy streets he'll put you down so you can walk, but you have to hold his hand

Cue his 749th internal meltdown of the day because your hands are so small, look at those tiny fingernails

He also has to bend over so you can actually reach his hand, but he'll never let on that it's killing his back because the way you walk with such short legs is heart melting

He'll make sure you're eating and drinking appropriately and he'll have you back home before sundown

When you pop back to your regular size just before dinner he will keep you up for the rest of the night with his questions

He is going to have raging baby fever for the next few weeks

Asra

They knew what had happened before they even opened the door

Faust was at the table with you as you were writing, she was telling him all about it while he was still reading his mail

The first thing they're doing is checking that you really aren't hurt and making sure that you're comfortable

Then he's going over the spell you just cast, lifting you onto the table to talk him through the creative process so he knows exactly what happened and what to expect

The reality of the situation doesn't really hit them until after they know you're okay and will remain okay

The adorableness is not lost on him, you're the most precious thing he's ever seen

They're also picking up on the behavioral changes. They recognize your speech patterns and that you're capable of the same intellect, but they also notice the clumsy grip you've got on a pen you don't need and the way you keep almost scribbling on your leg

He's going to give you a minute there while he grabs something for you to wear

Sure enough, you're doodling away as soon as their back is turned

That seals your fate. They are going to give you every fun childhood adventure they can think of

He'll get you situated with a toga-like ensemble made up of several intricately tied scarves and take you down to the docks

Now they're getting to play one of Faust's favorite games with you - climbing to the top of the ship's masts when the sailors aren't looking and jumping off

He's slowing your descent with magic, watching your eyes light up, listening to your baby giggles the whole way down

It's a whole new kind of special for them to recreate one of their few positive childhood memories with you, and it's bringing their own inner child so much healing it almost hurts

All the falling works up an appetite, so he'll spend the next few hours wandering the food stalls, trying whatever catches your fancy

They'll take your notebook and grown up clothes with you to their parent's house for the afternoon

He knows they know more about childcare than he does, and their added expertise is a good safeguard in case something goes wrong when you switch back

Seeing their parents with you does make them think that Aisha and Salim wouldn't be terrible grandparents

He does notice that he misses napping with a small human snuggled into his side and now he's having strange dreams of a child with you

Nadia

She is mildly shocked. She could sense the spike in magic but she didn't expect it to result in this

She is already the type of person to treat all children like small adults, and that certainly translates into this situation

"Oh my, MC. I'll send for some clothes immediately. Do you know how long this might last? Have you eaten your fill? Is there anything you require?"

She'll make sure your needs are met, but she is a Countess and she has things to do and she can't cancel everything

You'll just have to accompany her for the day

She'll slow her pace so you can keep up with her, your chubby little legs moving briskly while you hold onto the trailing end of one of her sleeves

She'll set you up on a high chair with extra cushions for her meetings and will ask you for your input like it's business as usual

You do get some very strange looks from everyone else in the room. Who is this toddler? Why are they with the Countess? And why on earth is the Countess engaging them as part of these very important discussions?

She feels no need to explain herself. If it is clear when you speak that you have good thoughts, then that qualifies you to take part

Nobody questions her

As much as it may seem like she's unaffected, nothing could be farther from the truth

She's just very good at hiding it

The way your "r"s keeping turning into "w"s? The way your eye catches on every colorful thing that moves? Your not-fully-developed motor skills? Consider her charmed

She has lunch with you outside in the garden, and that's where she can really see the toddler affecting you

A bird lands nearby and you startle. Your eyes are wide open, taking in every breeze in the tree branches. When she sees you reach out and pluck a pretty wildflower to look at closer she caves

"Tell me MC, what are some of your favorite games to play outside?"

Hide-and-go-seek has never been so enchanting. Your giggles are the sweetest music she's ever heard

At one point, when she picks you up and feels the way you instinctively nuzzle into her arms, she'll think that maybe her parents were onto something with all the kids they had

When you turn back that evening, the relief she feels is unmatched. You were an adorable child, but she adores the you that stands next to her

Muriel

He's not surprised that you were trying a spell and it backfired. He's just surprised that there is a toddler in his hut

Why are you a toddler, MC. You could have turned into anything else. You could have turned into a wolf, or a chicken, or even a goat (ugh), at least then he'd know how to take care of you

Of course he's not saying any of this out loud, in reality he's slowly walking towards you with sweat rolling down his temples

Since when were toddlers this small?

He's relieved when you take the initiative of crawling to your notebook and explaining what you were doing and how it went wrong

Now that he knows it's still you in there, his insides are rapidly dissolving into mush. Babies = humans before they've learned to be mean + size of a chicken + the most adorable traits

Also it's you, he loves you, look at how small you are next to Inanna, look at you sinking your little chubby fists into her fur, look at her trying to give you a ride around the hut, look at the two of you heading out the door for an adventure

WAIT YOU'RE TOO SMALL THERE IS NO WAY THAT IS SAFE COME BACK

He's going to deny it later, but after you see his nurturing nature up close you know he'd be a fantastic father

He figures it'll be easier to just take you with him instead of leaving you up to your antics

Cue you spending the day perched on his massive shoulder, one small hand keeping you balanced with a death grip on his braids and the other grabbing leaves off of every tree branch you pass under

You keep forgetting how vulnerable you are in this form. Muriel has had to snatch you off the ground multiple times now because chickens and wild animals are so much bigger than you're used to

He keeps getting stressed until he's got you on his shoulder again, but all it takes is you swinging your tiny legs and humming a nursery rhyme under your breath to make him smile

It's weird, but one of the best parts of the day was lunch. The two of you sat down on a sun-warmed rock in a clearing for some bread and berries

After his own turbulent childhood, being able to provide enough food to watch you eat your fill and then help you feel safe enough to take an afternoon nap on his chest makes him feel like there's a part of his heart that has blood pumping through it again

When you bounce back that evening his knees buckle with relief

Portia

It takes her a second or two to figure it out, this is definitely not what she expected to see at the breakfast table

As soon as you look up and say "it's me, Powsha" she's squealing

She already loves babies, and you are by far the cutest one she's ever laid eyes on

She doesn't need to ask you any questions, she's already sending a message in calling off of work for the day and ransacking the cottage for material to make you an outfit with

You're only able to explain things to her once she's got you settled and wants to make plans for your impromptu day together

It's immediately obvious to her the way being a toddler is affecting your interests and attention span and she is here for it

Childcare expert. She's packing a bag with a change of clothes, snacks, water, handkerchiefs, small blanket, lunch, etc

She's taking you on an adventure!

No worries if walking is hard, she's got the bag on one shoulder and you on the opposite hip

The first thing she wants to do is show everybody else how cute you are. Her first stop is the palace kitchen, where the staff can coo over you while you stuff yourself with treats

Then it's down to the South End to drop in on Ilya and Mazelinka. Of course she feels the need to prank them by pretending that you are her newly adopted child, making them an uncle and great-grandmother respectively

Mazelinka sees right through it immediately but Ilya falls for it hook, line, and sinker

"I'm an uncle?! Pasha, when? Why did you wait this long? They look so much like MC, is there something you aren't telling me??"

She's cackling when she finally disillusions him (he's so embarrassed - he was so enthusiastic when he offered to toss you up in the air and you're never going to let him live that down)

Deep down though it's feeding a need she's had for a while to have kids of her own. Knowing what you're like as a toddler is lighting a fire under her to be the mother she grew up without

She'll spend the afternoon romping with you in her garden, playing tag and hide-and-seek and building little fairy houses

Watching you play with Pepi leaves her fit to burst from the adorableness, it's cuteness squared and she does not have enough physical space in her chest for this much love

Lowkey disappointed when you poof back to your normal size

She desperately hopes you want kids with her because now she knows what it's like it's all she'll be thinking about for months

Lucio

Oh boy

It took him a good five minutes to be convinced of the situation. There's no way you're a baby, you're playing a prank, some villager's kid crashed the place, that's not you - is it?

He's a lot more realistic about himself with you in his life, he knows he's not good with kids

It's you though, obviously he's not going anywhere, he's dedicated to taking care of you, he just hopes you're not expecting him to do that without any oopsies

As soon as you start talking he's hanging on your every word. This only lasts until evening? Thank goodness

He's just winging it at this point. You need clothes? uh - just wear one of your grown up shirts, he's got a piece of string to help it stay snug

You need shoes? he'll tie some socks onto your legs

You're hungry? Toddlers can have bread, right? Here's some bread

He keeps forgetting that you aren't as capable in this form as you usually are. Could you start that fire for him for lunch? Oh yeah

Don't worry, your dashing ex-Count knows his way around a flint and steel

After he accidentally leaves you behind a few times because you're slower than he's used to he just plops you on one of the dog's backs

Mercedes and Melchior are living for the chaos, but are also being unusually docile. And protective

They take turns, one of them giving you a ride while the other patrols and growls at every moving thing in a twenty-foot radius

You're also much easier to lick like this, by evening time your face and arms are sticky with dog slobber

As initially freaked as Lucio is, he's more and more charmed by your cuteness as the day rolls by

The first time he hears you giggle when one of the dogs nuzzles you he feels his heart stop

He only remembers babies as annoying things that cry during parties that should only have adults at them, since when were they so cute? Or is that just you?

He caves at lunch time, sitting you in his lap so he can feed you

For the first time he's having to be so careful with his gauntlet, normally he likes the spikes but now he's thinking of ways to cushion them

He's carrying you against his chest for the afternoon, tickling you and making funny faces just to hear those giggles again

Now that he thinks about it, maybe the two of you should have one of these for your own

When you poof back that evening he will feel the need to tell you all about his day with you, regardless of the fact that you're the one who spent it with him

[tensionpoints]

Anyway, let’s ask questions & make note of things!

(It's a strange letter. It's more or less completely illegible…)

“Strange letter” there’s various ways to interpret this— is it strange for a vday card? Or strange for other reasons? It’s very long, for certain. and it disappears! Why else could this be ‘strange?’

“Completely illegible” is this bad handwriting, or is this wingdings? Or a secret 3rd thing?

(But, if you squint your eyes, and, you squint your heart… For some reason, you feel you could understand it)

“Squinting your eyes and heart” is a very strange sentiment, and I feel it’s too easily brushed over. Heart, obviously could refer to the SOUL, but what gets me the most about this is the grammatical structure of the sentence.

1. “But,” starting a sentence with a coordinating conjunction is, for the most part, frowned upon. Why separarte this from the first sentence, starting another?

2. “But, if you squint your eyes, and, you squint your heart… For some reason, you feel you could understand it” let’s start by sorting this into clauses.

“But, [if you squint your eyes], and, [you squint your heart…] For some reason, [you feel] [you could understand it]”

Time for some questions! Why put a comma after “and?” I could be misremembering, but a comma AFTER “and” is very awkward-sounding.

Also. It’s inconsistent? Why write it as “But, if you squint your eyes, and, you squint your heart…“ when it would be more consistent to have “But, if you squint your eyes, and if you squint your heart…” or “But, if you squint your eyes and (your) heart…” why repeat the verb? how many “you”s is the sender talking about?

3. Squinting your eyes is common to try to read illegible text, as you focus more on the finer details. What could squinting a HEART do? what would squinting a heart be LIKE.?

All in all for this section, the narration feels different to me than the usual narration in UTDR, but I can’t quite place why.

WELL,

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

OR, WAS IT THE OLD YEAR.

1. First impression I’m getting here is “does this person experience time linearly?”

2. Second thing I’m noticing: a question ending with a period rather than a question mark.

3. Thirdly, the sender seems, at best, unaware, or, at worse, confused.

WELL,

IN ANY CASE, HOW IS DELTA RUNE?

1. Why are you asking US, sender?

2. What is MEANT by “delta rune?” the game? The symbol? What are we talking about?

AS YOU ARE WAITING

PATIENTLY, THE TIME IS GOING AROUND.

THERE WAS EVEN A RUMOR OF "VALENTINE'S DAY".

HOW ABSURD.

EVERY DAY IS A DAY OF LOVE,

IF ONLY YOU BELIEVE IT SO.

DO YOU BELIEVE IT SO?

…

1. What are we waiting for? The next release, or something else?

2. “The time is going around” feels like it’s worded this way deliberately. What does this mean?

3. “There was even a rumor of “valentine’s day” is this world building? There are lightners AND darkners with valentines. Why does this idea sound foreign to the sender to the point that the day is a “rumor?” Where are you from, sender?

4. “How absurd. Every day is a day of love, if only you believe it so. Do you believe it so?” What do we mean by “love?”

SO, THE PURPOSE OF THE MESSAGE.

I WANT TO HELP!

YES, THERE WAS SOMEONE I WANTED TO HELP

…

1. Given the last section, this creates an interesting vibe imo? This is a letter of “I want to contribute” and not “be mine 💘” which makes this feel even MORE out of place. Are you supposed to be here???

I SEEM TO HAVE FORGOTTEN WHO..

YES, IT'S QUITE IRONIC, BUT I SEEM TO HAVE FORGOTTEN.

WAS IT MYSELF? NO.

WELL, PERHAPS.

1. What, exactly, makes this ironic? In general for deltarune, or is there something about you that makes this something very odd?

2. “Was it myself? No. Well, perhaps.” What is a self, sender? How could it be that “no” and “perhaps” are both answers that are viable?

REGARDLESS, WHEN I SEE THEM, I'M CERTAIN I WILL KNOW IT STRAIGHT AWAY.

I NEVER FORGET SOMEONE I DON'T REMEMBER.

WILL YOU HELP ME?

…

…

1. “I’m certain I will know” will this be true for us as well? Are you a new character, or are you a character we’ve seen before?

2. “I never forget someone I don’t remember” also feels VERY deliberately worded. Something about this line is important, I think.

3. What do you need help with? I thought you were helping someone else?

4. The two lines of “…” next to each other strike me as odd. What does this mean?

YOU ARE VERY ODD, RESPONDING OUT LOUD TO A LETTER.

BUT, YOU SEEM RELIABLE.

I WILL BE COUNTING ON YOU.

1. This gives more of an in-game vibe than the rest of the letter, acting as though we have turned this into a dialogue.

2. What makes us reliable?

3. Counting on us for WHAT?

4. I feel like there’s some kind of joke lying in wait here over “letter” juxtaposed with “counting”

NOW, PUT ON YOUR COAT AND WASH YOUR FACE!

OR, PUT ON YOUR FACE AND WASH YOUR COAT.

NOT NECESSARILY IN THAT ORDER.

OR, IN ANY ORDER AT ALL.

1. This general section really has me curious as to who the sender is. After all, this is a very strange manner of speaking here. Love the silliness. Very unsure of what this means on a larger scale.

2. Why are we being told to do this?

GOOD BY!

1. I’ve seen SOOOOOO many people mention the spelling here. Curious if it means anything, or if it genuinely is just a mistake.

(There was a sound like something walking away

And, the letter was gone.)

1. Again, the narration seems odd with the grammar here?

2. This is SO funny when we consider this letter was replaced with a blank. Toby why did you do this it’s hilarious.

3. I wonder if inanimate object (letter) with legs and the cup Toby asked us to look at are connected.

Verdict: probably Not gaster, but Deffo suspicious. Cant count anything out yet imo.