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autumnslance · 3 years

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FFXIV Write 2021 #10: Heady

“We maybe should have waited for the old men after all,” Heustienne mused, hands in the air.

Aeryn shrugged, raising her hands as well. She could have kept fighting the heretics perhaps, but she was getting tired and sloppy; trying not to kill them took effort, and they seemed to be an endless swarm.

Also, Heustienne was bleeding, a steady seeping that could easily turn bad if they kept resisting, if Aeryn couldn’t get a moment to heal her.

“Bring them to Avengret,” the heretic leader wheezed past the bruises Aeryn had left him with.

Aeryn grinned. Progress of a sort; meeting the dragon would go a long way to finding a way to resolve all of this.

Bladed weapons pricked their backs, forcing them to move. They stumbled forward, divested of their weapons as they were led into the old outpost, deep in the Dravanian wilds.

Aeryn glanced around, trying to identify the architecture; a broken nautilus motif caught her eye, and she nodded to herself. This place was near enough to have once been a way point of the Sharlayan colony. Not many dragons came this far into the hinterlands away from Sohm Al, the valley through which the Thaliak River flowed having little appeal to them.

She kept an eye out, and followed her captors. As they did, she reached out to the local elements, silently asking for help.

The roof in the center of the old stone keep had been knocked out, just like the old tower in Coerthas’ eastern lowlands—another odd location to find an elder dragon, but Avengret seemed to lurk in unexpected places to do her recruiting and hide. Aeryn was certain some of the heretics around them to be disenfranchised hunters from Tailfeather and treasure hunters from Idyllshire, lured to the dragon’s side.

There was evidence a dragon roosted here, but the creature herself was not present. Aeryn continued to look around, noting the old Sharlayan designs, the sconces currently empty given the day and lack of an aetheric pulse to light them. The heretic leader looked around. “Where’s Johon? We need to call our lady.”

“Here,” a shaky voice said. An older man shuffled forward, too thin for his frame, grey-streaked dark beard and hair scraggly. Aeryn wondered how long he had lived on the fringes among the outcast. He held out a pipe to his leader, then frowned at Aeryn, peering at her. “You seem familiar.”

Aeryn shrugged. “She gets that a lot,” Heustienne said dryly. The two women exchanged grins. The heretics hadn’t seemed to realize yet who they had caught.

The leader snatched the pipe from Johon and blew a few notes into the device, the sound sharp and strong in the cool air. A moment later a distant roar answered.

Both women tensed as another roar soon came, closer and accompanied by the beating of wings. Soon the shadow fell over the space, and Aeryn sucked in a breath.

Avengret wasn’t the largest Aeryn had ever seen of course, but the red dragon was larger than most, impressive in her graceful form, covered in scars that bespoke a hardened warrior. She landed lighter than expected, wings unfurled as the heretics swayed in the wind of her arrival, a near religious fervor shining in their faces.

“My children call, and so I come,” her sonorous voice was bone-rattling deep, and her burning orange eyes turned to the captives. “What treasure have you brought me today?”

“Ishgardian dogs seeking to continue their purge of the righteous,” the leader said. “They lie like the others about peace. We present them for your judgment.”

Avengret laughed, the sound vibrating teeth and stone as she stared steadily. “Nay, this is a homecoming. A wayward daughter has returned to me.”

Heaustienne scowled. “I am no daughter of yours, Graoully—”

“SIlence! I’m not speaking to you,” Avengret snarled. Her head swung closer to Aeryn. “You. You’re one of mine.”

Aeryn blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“My blood sings in your veins, little one.”

“I’ve never drank a dragon’s blood.”

Avengret laughed. “No, no you never have. The potency is diluted, as to be expected. But I know your scent.” She tilted her head. “I had wondered at the name of Nidhogg’s killer. Ssssstriker,” she hissed.

The heretics started, staring now at Aeryn while Heustienne winced.

“That’s it!” Johon exclaimed. “Corran’s foreign wife; you look much like her. Gods, I haven’t thought of them in years.”

Aeryn’s head pivoted from the older man back to Avengret, who was grinning in the way only dragons could, every sharp tooth in her mouth visible. “You...So you knew my parents,” she said to the heretic. “They were….farmers,” she said.

Avengret laughed. “Your father was so much more. Until we were betrayed, and his potential cut down by a lance, like so many others.”

“Aeryn, what’s she talking about?” Heustienne asked.

“I have no idea. My father was killed when dragons attacked our village, coming after—” She stopped, throat suddenly tight like it had become that day. She remembered again the anger radiating off Alberic, tall and terrifying to her child self in his shiny dragoon armor, bloodstains marring the surface.

“Dragons came to aid your father,” Avengret said, mirth still coloring her tone. It quickly shifted to rage. “When that thrice-damned Azure Dragoon sought us out! He wounded me so deeply I slept for over two decades, and missed my lord’s call! If I had been there, had been well enough, I would have aided his crusade--I would have stopped you!”

Everyone else in the room, even her own adherents, stepped back as the dragon thrashed her tail and beat her wings, claws digging into the ground as she snarled at Aeryn.

Aeryn stood her ground and took a deep breath. “Good luck with that,” she said. Silently, she reached for the local elements again, asking nature for help as she had learned in the Stillglade Fane to supplement her red magic. The heretics still had her rapier.

Avengret chuckled again, rumbling and colder than her fiery nature suggested. It was disturbing how swiftly she switched from fury to this calm. Her orange eyes remained focused on Aeryn, as if naught else existed.

And then she began to Sing.

Aeryn gasped as her veins ignited, a primal part of her responding to the dragon’s call. Heustienne’s panicked shouting of her name seemed malms away though she knew her friend was right next to her, perhaps even grasping at her as the weight of Avengret’s Song forced Aeryn to a knee. She felt as if she could soar through the sky yet was falling-down drunk at the same time, the overwhelming power of the Song shrieking through her blood.

The wind asked if she was all right. The water asked if she needed help.

Aeryn screamed, answering them with an emphatic Yes! The water was cold mountain runoff, chilling the fire coursing through her. The canyon winds lifted her to her feet, whipping through the room and knocking the heretics about like leaves. She pulled on the water again, combining it with the wind and the now-controllable fire.

Avengret reared back, her own maw glowing as she prepared to let loose her breath. Aeryn��s lightning was faster, striking the dragon and many others in the room, uncontrollable without her weapon foci. The wind and water howled, loosing an ice storm on the room.

“Aeryn!” Heustienne cried out from across the room. She had struck the man holding their weapons, retrieving her lance and Aeryn’s rapier. “Let’s go!”

Aeryn backpedaled, taking a moment to send one last burst of aether into the sconces around the room. They lit with a green flare, the force field shimmering through the room just as the two women dashed out of it.

“What the hells—?”

“Emergency magic containment,” Aeryn gasped. “Won’t hold her for long, but long enough to leave!”

“Traitorous child!” Avengret roared from behind them, already tearing at the old Sharlayan devices. “You will pay! You are mine! Just ask the man who once wore Azure!”

“I will,” Aeryn muttered as they fled, her head and heart still aching from the memory of Avengret’s Song.

#FFXIVWrite2021 #Final Fantasy XIV #Lyn Writing #Heustienne de Vimaroix #Alberic Bale #Avengret #Aeryn Striker

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mightysteelix · 3 years

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Pent Up Desires (Fic)

Ever since the summer event last year, I've been toying with the idea of a larger Robin. And now that its rerun is about to come, I've decided that it is time to finally write it out - and meanwhile hit as many of my kink buttons as possible. This is the result - one of my most indulgent works (if not the most indulgent work to beat them all).

Rating: Explicit Category: M/M Fandoms: Fate/Grand Order Relationship: Robin Hood | Archer/Billy the Kid | Archer Characters: Robin Hood | Archer and Billy the Kid | Archer Summary: Do you remember when B.B. said she would turn Robin into a pig during ServaFes? What if she followed on the threat, albeit with quite the twist?

Robin is cursed and can't control himself around food. Billy has promised to help, but he can't control himself around Robin.

Weight-gain kink fic. Don’t like, don’t read.

WARNING FOR KINK CONTENTS UNDER THE CUT

Additional Tags: Weight Gain; Belly Kink; Size Kink; Size Difference; Masturbation; Dry Humping; Stuffing; musclechub; Robin gets huge; And Billy tries not to jerk off whenever he sees him; Self-Indulgent

LAST WARNING FOR KINK

Summer was in full swing, and Babbage blasted enough steam to make Chaldea hotter than a waterless hole in the heart of the prairie. So, it did not come as a shock that Robin was rockin’ only trunks and an open shirt, which showed some well-sculpted arms. The guy was hell-fired handsome with the finest body ever, and if he wanted to kick back, Billy wouldn’t protest. Nay, what hit like a bullet to the brain was the ton of food in front of him—meats, loaves of bread, and a raft of drinks.

“How’s it goin’, partner?” Billy plopped down in a chair next to Robin. “Famished after Servant Fes sucked the life outta ya?”

“It’s…” Robin, with a larger scowl on his face than usual, panted. “It’s that… purple-haired witch’s fault.” He grabbed a drumstick and tore off some meat like a starved wolf. “She threatened to turn me in a pig…” His face was red with effort. “We had to win her Holy Grail…” He bit another chunk. “Don’t worry,”—Billy stifled a giggle when Robin mocked the Master’s voice—“she won’t follow on it.’ It’s easy to speak when this isn’t happening to them!” After chewin’ the last of the drumstick thoroughly, he swallowed. The slow gulp traveled down his throat and into his stomach. Robin punched his chest and exhaled in relief.

Billy’s eyes followed it and glued themselves to Robin’s gut. It was taut, bloated, as large as a basketball—and just as hard if he touched it. The pressure was makin’ the skin around the belly button burn angrily. The trunks rested under the overgorged curve, a trial of ginger peekin’ below the band. “True, partner, you’re becomin’ a nice piggy,” Billy quipped. “So, the purple lass’s itchin’ for a vendetta, and she chose ya?”

After he popped a soda open and drank half the bottle—his gurglin’ gut sloshin’ and expandin’ even more—Robin nodded. “She cursed the clothes. And I must’ve stepped on her toes something fierce when I complained to Master. Now I can’t even take the swimsuit off.” He grit his teeth, his handsome face (Was that the start of a double chin? Nay, don’t stare!) grimacin’ as he tried to keep the fizz down. His strained jaws opened as if pried apart, and with shakin’ hands, he poured in the rest of the drink. His neck bobbed; his stomach filled and grew in every direction. “Whenever I see—urp!”

Robin closed his mouth. His cheeks bulged with a held-back belch. Yet the stress forced his lips to open: “UUUURRPPP!” He bowed his limp head away. “Excuse me,” he muttered. “But when there’s any food—anything—I must eat it. It doesn’t matter if I’ll explode; my hands will push it down to my stomach.” He slapped the swollen ball, it barely swayin’. Something bubbled in its depths rose in his throat, and he let out another lengthy burp.

Bitin’ his lips, Billy leaned closer. “Have ya tried stayin’ outta here? Far from the eyes, far from the heart and all that?” he advised Robin, his eyes lookin’ anywhere but that overstuffed middle.

“I’m trying. But she’s pulling that Archer’s strings, too.” Robin grunted and glanced at the kitchen while devourin’ a buttered slice of bread. “If I leave my room, he’s on my tail with a cupcake or some other treat. Before I know it, I am dragged here and”—he pointed to the ungodly number of plates—“you see the rest.”

Billy nodded slowly, his whole willpower holdin’ him from lickin’ his lips. A fire was blazin’ in his chest—and his groin. He knew EMIYA’s dirty little secret way too well: the way a man’s gluttony melted him faster than an ice cube durin’ high noon. The Archer had left his treats unguarded when Amakusa discovered his sweet tooth. And when the Ruler came one morning, enormously flabby and flauntin’ it at every step, the pervert couldn’t stop blushin’! For Billy’s shock, neither could he. So did they become accomplices, secret friends bound by a common desire.

But gettin’ his pleasure from Robin, who hated every second of it? Damn, that was a new lowest of the low! Billy’s neck ached with strain as he did his best not to look, but he wouldn’t give in! “Forgive the question, partner,” he dropped it, hopin’ to divert the talk, “but if ya’re stuffin’ down so much food, how are ya not as fat as that priest boy?”

Robin clicked his tongue. “I’ve been burning off the calories. When I am not gulping down food here, I’m in the gym to work out. Doesn’t stop flab from piling.” Billy squinted, lookin’ for it, and caught himself. “But it does help.”

With some vigor, Billy’s line of sight moved higher—towards Robin’s arms. True, they were meatier, fillin’ the short sleeves of the shirt. Robin wasn’t a stick before, either, but now he was more powerful. Gorwin’. Maybe his legs had also bulked, but Billy didn’t wanna risk lookin’ at that gut again.

“Of course, after the training, my stomach is starving, and I chew down more food to make up for it. You should see how much EMIYA brings me then.”

Even more? Billy gulped—and before his brain could call out the horrible, horrible idea, he spoke. “Do ya need a partner for this job, partner? Someone to help with the trainin’ and to keep your appetite under control? Because ya can rely on me!”

“You know, that might help. Thanks a bunch!” Robin’s relieved smile stabbed Billy’s heart like a dagger. “Do you want to try it once I’m done here?”

“Sorry!” Billy jumped outta his chair. He wasn’t goin’ to ditch Robin—he owed up to his offers. “I’ve gotta do something else first!” Namely, one red Archer needed a few bullet wounds and a lecture on personal boundaries. “But tomorrow I’ll help ya!” And hopefully, he wouldn’t end distracted by that amazing, achy, hungry gut.

---

“Damn that EMIYA!” Billy shouted as he collapsed on his bed. “And that purple wretch, too! When did they form their party?” His talk with the red Archer a day ago had gone to the dogs. That man had balls of steel—no matter how many threats or bullets Billy wasted, EMIYA did not budge. And B.B. had hidden in her little mouse hole, without a trace of her anywhere in Chaldea. Billy couldn’t find her, no matter how many rooms he checked—as the stupid chef had told him.

“No whiff of the Master, either,” Billy grumbled. Da Vinci had promised to deal with the unruly pair, but B.B. would stop only if her so precious senpai ordered her. And unless she lifted the curse before breakfast tomorrow, Billy woulda to help Robin with the training again. The pillow muffled his screams. His heart woulda exploded in his chest after watchin’ his partner once. God help him if he had to see him bustle those weights while his gut shifted and gurgled. He hadn’t stopped glarin’ at the packed sphere once, paying attention and squirmin’ whenever it swayed. Robin’s unintended teasin’—him drummin’ over the sphere every once in a while—made it even worse. Billy barely had survived today; tomorrow would kill him!

Even worse, he said some calories stuck as fat. Did that mean an ever-flabbier Robin with a softenin’ gut? How much feedin’s would it take ‘till it became an enormous tank of lard; ‘till it sagged over his deck and he needed someone’s help to jerk himself off? It would jiggle whenever he took a step, it would flop over his shorts—hell, Robin woulda to pull them under his belly! His shirt would hide nothing; nay, it would show off those juicy curves.

Billy’s crotch twitched. No! He clenched fists, his nails diggin’ in his palms. “I’m not beatin’ it to Robin, no matter how smokin’ hot he becomes!” There were boundaries to those things! He rolled, now lyin’ on his back. His dick was makin’ a tent in his pants. The movement only made it rub against the fabric, and the pleasure flared up even more. “Self-control, self-control, self-control!” Billy repeated like a mantra. A burnin’, powerful feelin’ arose in his chest.

Would Robin gain love handles, too? They’d be juicy and plump, always to be grabbed when there was a chance. Billy imagined squeezin’ them in his fingers, the flab jigglin’. Would they push his shirt even higher, so large that nothing would cover them? And when Robin tugged it relentlessly, his gut would shake. The threads would strain and groan, but the clothes wouldn’t fit over that engorged mass. When he gained moobs…

Billy shut his eyes. His body was tense and feverishly hot. Sweat was burnin’ his forehead, and the flame in his dick pulsated through him. He shouldn’t think about those two swayin’, soft sacks of flab. He shouldn’t imagine carresin’ them, kissin’ them. Precum moistened his underpants.

“Who knew: I’m a pervert enough to do it!” Gruntin’, Billy peeled off his pants and pulled down his briefs, freein’ his dick. “Only this time!” He snatched the lube from his nightstand—his hands trembled and almost dropped it on the floor—and generously coated his fingers. “Do yer fuckin’ worst, libido!” he swore and began pumpin’ his cock. The first touch rustled through his body, a torrent of pleasure to drown him. No, oh no, oh, oh, oh yes, yes! He was breathin’ heavily, and his hand didn’t stop.

Robin’s moobs would show under his shirt—nay, so large that he couldn’t fit clothes over them. He’d parade around naked, a total show-off, his gut, and moobs, and love handles, and delicious, delicious backrolls for the whole world to ogle. The shirt would be a mere piece of fabric, stretched and useless, good only for hidin’ his shoulders—if even that!

Billy tried to hold his moans—keep at least that dignity. His insides were coilin’, his muscles were shiverin’. His dick stiffened more, and he drew every movement long until his body woulda broken under the strain of lust. He gulped the moan down, opened his lips for a hasty breath, and closed them immediately, the pant havin’ built up in his throat.

Robin would become a titan of a man, his torso a lardy mountain. He would carry all the weight, his freakin’ strong body put to good use. Those powerful arms he boasted an entire day—that was a start because he would also swell with packed flesh. His shorts would tear around his tights, the veiny mass crackin’ them apart. But he would pay no attention to that. The curse would drive him to eat and eat, glut himself more, unable to fight the thrall of the food. He would complain of his growth but never resist because he couldn’t—not even when he outgrew the chairs, the doors, the halls.

His stomach would be stuffed at all times, yet callin’ for more. What if Billy brought him snacks to the gym? Robin went only there and to the dinin’ hall. What if they shortened that time? What if he did not stop fillin’ his gut, gorgin’ himself, the sphere bloatin’ out of proportions, dominatin’ his already enormous frame? Then he would explode into more impossible, more gargantuan sizes. There would be no end, no control, only expansion and flab, and muscle…

Billy arched his back. A desperate, loud moan—almost a hiss—left his lips before he could bite it down. He was thrusting more rapidly, hastily, desperate for that release. If only he coulda Robin with himself, to have his way him.

If he were there—small, almost invisible next to the giant that was Robin, he would cheer. He would rejoice as the other Archer lifted heavier and heavier weights in the gym, his muscles so swole that they would tear the skin open. Veins would run under the sweaty flesh, visible over the bloated mass. And when Robin wanted to eat… Oh, boy, Billy would make sure he packed away his fill. He would push the meals in the other Archer’s mouth, rub his belly to provide comfort, and squish the flab under his fingertips, enjoy it as the gut would seemingly grow under his touch. Or, it would be tight and heavy, stretched to its limits, angry and protestin’ the constant stuffings. But it would be so used to the fullness and the cursed hunger that Robin wouldn’t handle a second without bein’ stuffed. It would be like an addiction—nay, it would be one—to eatin’, to blowin’ up, to growin’ fatter.

And if Robin enjoyed it as much as Billy, then the blond would have no problem givin’ some bonus help. He closed his eyes and imagined Robin’s dick in his hand. The massive roll of his gut pressed into the fingers, and as Billy stroked the cock, it would groan and roar, so overstuffed that it could burst open. He could also ride that massive ball, rub his member all over it while pushin’ caloric meals into Robin’s stomach. Or he could push his shaft between the two lardy ass checks and fuck Robin!

There, almost there! Billy was pantin’, out of breath, hot as coals. His ghosting fingertips ran across the red tip of his dick. It was an itchy, sudden touch that quickly ended. He hoped to prolong that sick, depraved cravin’ for as long as possible. Thoughts of relief were pushed to the corners of his mind.

Once their efforts came to an end, Robin would be huge, too large for his puny clothes. He would march around Chaldea, showin’ off his naked, heavy, thick body. The muscles would sway, the veins of his biceps and calves would shift. His enormous gut—so enormous that it would fall over his erect dick—would gurgle at every step: either achy and overfilled or not full enough and needin’ more. Robin would tend to it, gloat, relish in his new size and consume even more food. He would feed himself further into titanic sizes. Control would slip out of his mind. After gorgin’ himself, he’d be so horny, so desperate, that he’d pound Billy straight there in the canteen.

Cum shot outta Billy’s cock over his hand, and he was moanin’. His sheets were sticky as the white liquid soaked them., but he kept squeezin’ the last few lustful drops. The heat was sated, the achin’ hole in his chest filled for the time bein’. But, he realized with newfound clarity, tomorrow it would set him on fire again. And the thought of Robin attackin’ the filled tables like a beast sent a shiver down his dick again.

---

“Almost… There!” Robin grunted, gritting his teeth, and pushed up the barbell. His arms stretched, his large muscles expandin’ to their full size and squeezin’ again. His sleeves were already rolled as high as possible, not fittin’ around his swollen arms but tried to creep up more. Sweat was glistenin’ on the skin as it rippled - a proof of the effort he was puttin’ in. His round pecs—as big as apples—flexed, hard despite the flab that covered them. They swayed rhythmically as the weight moved up and down, plusatin’, tensin, and relaxin’: one, two; one, two. Billy’s eyes traced them as they shook, and he could see himself gropin’ them, holdin’ that powerful flesh… “And done!” Robin’s proud shout snapped out Billy. But it was for the worse because the huge Archer sittin’ on the bench let the barbell in place and scratched the curve of his gut, which rolled over his waist.

Fidgetin’ and tremblin, about as helpful as a snowball in a summer gunfight, Billy was warmin’ a nearby bench. He had been comin’ every day, unable to tear eyes away from the clothes that seemed to shrink around Robin’s growin’ body. The gym trips didn’t make him any smaller—especially when, after every workout session, Robin gorged himself until his bloated stomach couldn’t fit a morsel more. Then, he’d complain he was so full, drag out long moans and poke the stuffed sphere. As he sated his gluttony, it distended, pushed out more, and sometimes—a hot thrill cut through Billy—rested on his lap.

Billy bit his lips, strugglin’ not to slip a hand down in his pants right at the gym. He rubbed his tights together. His face was sizzlin’ like fire, and his breaths were rushed, unruly, desperate. He shook his head, hopin’ to clear the fantasy, but choose the damned best worst moment.

Robin jumped on the floor. The shockwave rocked the bench. Didn’t the equipment also rattle? Billy swallowed and the gulp lodged in his throat. He was shiverin’, truly feverish, trying’ to look away from the handsome behemoth. He knew what was comin’, but his neck refused to budge.

“Let’s go to the canteen.” Robin grinned lazily, his chubby cheeks jigglin’ a little. “After this stress, I should eat something.” He drew fingers over his exposed belly. Hadn’t he started touchin’ it more often—almost as if he got his kicks outta it.

No, no, no! Don’t think like that!

“Wasn’t the plan that you stopped stuffin’ your face, partner?” Billy wanted to stall—he was a god-damned coward. Once he saw Robin gulpin’ down food like there was no tomorrow, all pretenses of holdin’ back would fly straight outta the window. “Ya sure it’s not the purple hag’s doin’?” He didn’t know if he had the power to stand up without his legs meltin’ in a puddle.

Robin crossed arms behind his back, the mass of his bulky arms and forearms pressin’ together. “Does it matter much? I mean, I am not sprouting a pigtail, right? I was worried B.B. was literal with her curse.” He glanced down at his belly. “I can get used to some flab.”

Billy’s small body clenched as he struggled to hold back a moan. Robin was already a damn-fine lady-killer—in that case, a bloke-killer. His awesome, broad shoulders led to beefy arms, as thick as tree trunks - as possible capable of tearin’ them outta the ground. A soft layer of flab—quiverin’ unless Robin flexed—bloated their size further. But if Billy dragged fingers over ‘em, he’d feel the packed bulk underneath. Those powerful monsters could—a hiss of pleasure pinned him to the bench—snap him in two. Robin’s muscles were top-notch, too: wider than his arms, shaped by constant bustin’ at the gym and the very act of carryin’ his bulk. They were veiny, ripped, and made the puny summer shorts stretch and ride up under the curve of Robin’s gut.

That lardy overhand attracted attention without fail. It was an enormous sphere of pure fat. The hidden muscles kept it in a firm, massive, fat ball. Robin still tugged the shirt around his oversize middle; the buttons ached and shook, hangin’ for their dear life. His poor shorts fared even worse, trapped between the titanic tights and the blobby belly, strained into a thin line of fabric. What if, while Robin was packin’ away food, it snapped in two, no longer survivin’ the pressure? Would he shrug it off and keep eatin’, too gluttonous to consider it? Would he glut himself, his pecs—round, sightly saggin’, the perfect ending touch to his appearance—wobblin’ at the fast movements?

“Hey! Are you coming?” Robin asked. He had turned his back towards Billy. The shirt rested well above his soft, squeezable love handles, which trembled with each step. His bloated ass cheeks pressed together, foldin’ as he walked. The shorts barely covered them—and if Robin kept feedin’ himself and expandin’, no clothing would fit him. When the threads snapped, and his body exploded outta them.

Billy’s mouth opened wide, and he stood up, followin’ their hypnotizin’ sway. It wouldn’t come to that, would it? Robin had more self-control, did he not? But he had no problem with growin’ fatter—and if his eager steps were an indication, he could even await it. Billy’s imagination quickly did its job, paintin’ a pic of Robin, who was eatin’ no longer with resignation but with cheer. He would adore the way his flab folded or his muscles swelled. He would rejoice more the less he could see under the dome of his girth, proudly lift even heavier barbells and dumbbells and eat his weight in food.

“Come, or you’ll miss everything!” Robin shouted from the hall, turnin’ so fast that ripples spread through the entire mass of his engorged gut.

“I’m comin’, partner!” With an uneasy waddle, Billy followed him. Had he found out? Could he? As if he was a mutt with a yanked chain, the blond rushed down to the canteen. His brain could wait. Robin was right; Billy needed to see every second of that show.

---

Billy’s legs dragged him towards the canteen sluggishly, weakly. He hesitated at every step, pulled back, and then minced forward. What if someone saw him? He had to scram as fast as possible, get far from the dinin’ room. His dick was throbbin’ in his pants—and they were so tight that the whole Chaldea musta noticed. Hot sweat soaked him to the bone: anxiety, arousal, and anticipation. He had clenched his hands and mustered whatever willpower was left to him. “I’m not beatin’ it in the halls,” he murmured in the lonely corridor. “No matter how much I’m burnin’, no matter if it’ll drive me insane, no matter that Robin’s embraced piggin’ out and when I enter the canteen, I’ll find him stuffin’ himself sick.” Each second was painfully long-drawn torture as the twitches of pleasure set him ablaze.

“Can you walk faster, please? You partner”—the voice was so heavy with sarcasm that Billy could see it drippin’—“is inside and has already begun. If you arrive too late, he will have finished.”

“EMIYA!” Billy crouched in his shootin’ position. The tight pants rubbed his sensitive cock, and he felt himself edgin’ closer to release. He tried to hide the dick with his hands but brushed its tender head. “You’ve got a lotta courage,” he tried to push away that shameless joy, “showin’ up before my eyes.”

“Keep the rage for later. The curse would have failed if he did not enjoy it.” The unfazed Archer passed by him. Then, he stopped, glanced around shiftily, and turned back. “And you don’t have to thank me for this. Honestly. The grand plan was someone else’s.”

“I’m gonna give you all the gratitude you deserve, no worries!” Billy reached for his gun, but EMIYA slipped past him and disappeared.

He coulda chased the Archer, but there were more pressing things.

With the red vermin gone, Billy opened the doors and entered the canteen. He moved through empty chairs. The lively hall was now ghastly empty, not a sound to distract him.

Only one table was occupied—or, more accurately, three tables put together as a one. There was no other way the oversize feast woulda fitted. Potatoes, dazzlin’ with melted butter; meats with sauce as thick as syrup; mountains of golden, crispy fried rice—those were a few of the dishes, reversed for the special guest. And he was wolfin’ down a huge plate of appetizers along with a large bottle of soda to keep him company, the same ol’ grin plastered on his face. “Hey, partner!” he spoke, his mouth full. “I would say that you can pick whatever you like, but, uh, I have the feeling this is all for me.”

The flame of passion erupted into Billy. He bit his lips, and his hand reached for his cock, stroking it through the pants. It brought some short-lived relief, but then it rose higher—like a wave which would drown him if he stopped. “S-so,” he hoped to move the topic to anything else, “you were serious ‘bout enjoyin’ the curse, partner?”

The enormous gulp traveled down Robin’s throat. “How does it look to you?” He polished away the last few bites and set the plate on a pile of empty ones. When did he have the time? Billy had come ten minutes after him! How fast was Robin gorgin’ himself?

“If the red Archer will be my chef, I might get a use out of him.” Robin moved onto a juiced steak with bewitchin’ aroma and dug straight in, lickin’ the splotches of grease that stained his lips. “It’s not a weak start, but I bet I can do better. There’s a lot more to eat, after all. Do you want to watch?”

If Billy had any sense left, he should have realized the so clear teasin’. But he could only think about Robin’s huge body, about his gut and ass and bottomless hunger. Squirmin’, he nodded.

“Then you can sit here.” Robin patted the space on the bench near himself. “It might be a little tight, but a small guy like you can fit.”

Small. As if in a trance, Billy walked and plopped down, squeezin’ his body as close as possible to Robin’s flab. His left side was sinkin’ in the lard, feelin’ the warmth which the oversize Archer radiated. Those temptin’ rolls bulged over the smaller man, spillin’ over his lithe frame. He was like a mouse next to the engorged mountain that was Robin. “When did ya began enjoyin’ it, partner? Didn’t ya say ya will be stayin’ fit ‘n’ trim?” His hand hadn’t stopped runnin’ over his cock; how the hell had Robin not noticed?

“No, I did not want to be a pig. I thought B.B. would make me a large pink animal, but it seems she hadn’t been literal. Besides”—Robin stopped his feast to grip his flexed biceps, stretchin’ his fingers to fit around it—“this is quite far from a fat pig. I would have ended this earlier, but I had fun playing with you.

“You… On purpose?” Billy couldn’t bear it anymore.

“Why else? Did you think someone missed the way you were staring at me?”

It was as if a bomb had exploded in Billy’s chest. He shoulda been ashamed, distraught that his dirty secret was out in the open. But instead, he felt bliss, utter and true bliss. Robin was on the same page. Robin was on the same page! “Then, partner… Can I?” He was tremblin’, barely able to speak.

“Do whatever you want. You’ve earned it.”

Billy jumped onto him, perchin’ himself atop the blobby gut. His face leaned forward, and he kissed Robin’s revealed moobs. He pressed his lips over the pecs. His face was enveloped in the soft chub, and his tongue caressed them from the perky nipples and up the curve, glidin’ over the muscle underneath.

He began grindin’ against Robin’s belly. The flab engulfed his cock. As Billy thrust into it, his dick not penetratin’ deep enough to fell the muscle, it shook around. Those jiggles made him throb with pleasure, arch his back, and squeeze—squeeze all he could.

Robin’s huge arms were the nearest. Billy’s hands slid over them, feelin’ the muscle ripple. The veins shifted with each movement and… Was Robin still stuffin’ himself?

The fat sphere pushed out, givin’ in less and less. Robin’s gut was growin’, fillin’ up with food, and he was bound to end even flabbier; even bigger—so impossibly enormous that Billy would be but a speck next to him. He’d be so tiny next to that solid wall of flab and flesh and beef!

Jizz soaked Billy’s underpants. The relief—the final relief—crashed over him like a wave and let out an unabashed moan in Robin’s chest. His warm, frantic pantin’ made the skin tingle.

And he rose his head, and his red, messy, wild smirk met a proud grin.

“For such a small guy, you’re pretty intense,” Robin said. He was breathing heavily, his belly pushing in and out. “Do you think you can handle a round number two?”

The blond, ruffled outlaw nodded, his body movin’ before his brain had a chance to react. “You betcha, partner!”

#weight gain story #male weight gain #male weight gain stories #robin hood #billy the kid #fate grand order #fgo #chubwritings

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reinepadova · 4 years

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To Be Seen

[←Previous] | Chapter 3 | [ Next → ]

‘A bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song.’ Will I be able to hear yours?

It's almost sunrise. Mei might wake up soon.

Stella let out a short, measured breath, wiping a hand on her skirt to get rid of the excess dust – and slime death, she mused in mild satisfaction – before reaching up to get to the next ledge.

Sudden tremors made her freeze. Her thoughts race at the impossibility of another attack when an ocher column emerged horizontally next to her with a small blast. She sighed.

How could I forget.

She shot steely eyes up, narrowing at the glowing horn tips peaking over the edge of the mesa, with the creature attached to them no doubt resting luxiously at the top while waiting patiently for her to complete her ascension.

They've been over this. It's like the creature's ears are merely decoration with how much it doesn't listen to her. “Mr. Guardian. Please. We're absolutely close now. As helpful as you have been, its time you return to protecting your area. Trouble won't find me again this time. I am sure of it,” she stressed, forcing more confidence in her voice than what she actually feels. She ignored the aches and pains in muscles she wasn't aware she had. Stubborn creature. Why won't it leave her alone?

Silence met her for a long minute, making her perk up.

Is it finally considering? Thank the ski –

A low, dismissive grunt and a visible snout, tilted upwards, made her eyebrow twitch and her whole body deflate. She pursed her lips, reluctantly pulling herself on the resonating stone with a wary eye, dusting her hands absently as she stood. When she turned bland eyes at the creature, calm amber orbs met her.

A tense stillness lingered, an edge of pressure settling in her chest as she maintained eye contact. Wills battled like an Electro Crystal, shocking and numbing you when you get in the way. It lasted for a long moment before the serpentine thing shook its mane once, flicking its tail broadly at her, reminiscent of how she would wag her finger at Mei after getting caught doing mischief. Stella fumed, eyes sharpening like daggers at the condescension.

They've been like this all evening until the early morn: her, trying to discourage it from following – nay, 'guiding' her way – while it persistently stuck at her side, snout prodding at her leg intermittently before pointing at another way. Admittedly, the turns and drop points it led to made the journey back easier – and safer – keeping well away from the groups of snoozing chubby geo energy.

When she tried to outrun it – after gesturing in appropriate gratitude, like how the people of Liyue would – its body coiled before spiraling up, graceful and grand, into the air, golden spikes shining against the moonlight, before facing her, eyeing her smugly, gaze now level with her own. Stella felt the heavy weight of her bag on her tired shoulder again as the floating guardian cruised easily, nudging her shoulder this time to another path unknown but undoubtedly still safe. Her patience grew thin, like waves eroding stone on the shore.

Stella squared her stance, determined to argue her case for the final time. “Look. I appreciate your guidance. But I just need to go over this hill and up to the Chief's residence. See those steps? They lead right up to it. So with all due respect, I request we part ways here. I'm sure you have better things to do than keep me company.” Mr. Guardian only blinked back, ever stoic, ever steadfast, like the rocks and gems it so resembles.

A different angle then? Stella cleared her throat, softening her tone. “As grateful as I am by your...escort, that place needs your attention more than me. Isn't that why you lingered? I'm not even one of the residents. I'm a complete stranger to these parts. You know this, yes? I won't loiter, I promise. I'll be on my way right after I get my charge. So just... ,” she huffed lamely, throwing a careless gesture behind them before climbing the final stretch to the hilltop, feeling the burn of golden orbs on her downturned face. An unusual sliver of guilt and sorrow grew, her heart thudded painfully with the weight of her emotions and the flash of dark memories.

In her world, all she knew was solitude. The discover of her unique blood, after an experiment gone wrong, made her both the target of envy, and adoration within their clan. An unholy reverence surrounded her person that no one is allowed to reach, to interact – less her value lessens.

If she bore children while in her 'highest' state – a form that fills her with self-loathing – she will produce perfection – or so her relatives would justify. Her descendants will be strong, beautiful, flawless. They can never succumb to any illness deadly to man, and will endure life with longer vitality. Her songs can soothe and heal, whether they be as benign as cuts and scratches, or as ruinous as broken bones or scalded skin.

Nothing is impossible – especially if you disregard the fact she'll feel the pain as each broken seam would stitch back together, each regeneration and painful growth slicing deep.

Hers was a life generations of her family has sought for, has craved for.

The power at their fingertips... no matter the cost...

She's the perfect bargaining chip... until she isn't.

I made sure of it.

Stella absently stroked at her abdomen, glancing at Mr. Guardian, eyes turning thoughtful as she focused on the present.

Nevertheless, no matter how less lonely she felt on the walk back to Qingce Village, she's not exhausted enough to forget her senses. She could just imagine how bizarre the sight of her will be entering the quiet settlement, a floating serpent at her side. The sight of gleaming claws and sharp teeth will cause a stir. And she's no fool. No matter how...subdued it seems, the power pouring out of its scales could not be ignored or understated. It's small stature is no doubt a front of what its truly capable of. It must be a guardian for a reason.

But, as intimidating as it may be, she felt... protected while in its presence. Safe. It's... nice.

However –

I can't get used to it. I just can't afford to.

If her guess was correct, the guardian is bound to this place, like all the other stone statues dotting in and around the village. As secure as she felt knowing someone, or something, will have her back, she knows once she and Mei returns to the harbor, she'll be the one to take care of things. She'll be the one that needs to do the protecting.

Until... until Mei is of age. Maybe have a family of her own. Someone else would cherish and protect her. And she'll... after that...

After that –

Stella minutely shook her head, stopping herself from letting her heartache show.

She won't linger on the thought, on the maybes or whatifs. That future is still so far away, so uncertain.

Even though she knows her future is uncertain –

Until then, I need to make sure Gran-gran's send off goes well. I just have to deal with life, one day at a time.

She eyed Mr. Guardian again, who remained unmoved, with a golden gaze both ominous and resolute. Its body was poised yet rigid, telling her how adamant the creature was about sticking with her until her journey's end.

She turned her head away, brows furrowing at the sight of orange light peaking at the distance, thoughts racing. The village may be full of the elderly and children, but they're hardworking, morning people, that rise with the sun. Spotting her and her unusual companion wouldn't be difficult. And because its full of the elderly and children, panic might erupt, causing unnecessary damage she knows she won't be able to compensate while already running low on energy – and mora. The Glaze Lilies she worked so hard for might also get lost in the process.

In short, not hiding the creature will be a hassle. And lastly –

Stella studied the stubborn creature as she rested a hand on her hip. A finger, tapping. “Alright, fine. You want to know why I don't want you going with me?” It tilted its muzzle, eyes turning intrigued. “I'm not exposing Mei to you. I promised to protect, and care for her. She already has enough heart ache as it is. I don't want her getting a heart attack from being face to face with something that has deadly claws and fangs.”

-{-}-

Golden orbs widened, thrown off guard by the admission – or was it a threat – the dig of claws on the ground easing. After a long moment, Morax could not help but chuff – the only way he could show amusement in this form – with eyes closing in relief, and great sympathy.

To protect with resolution. To uphold that which one has agreed upon with conviction –

The siren is more like a geode then. Many layers still guard her crystalline core.

He blinked, considering.

Morax then shook his mane, dismissing her worries gently, before floating up back at her side. He made one of his whiskers drift up, waiting until the lady directed her perplex eyes on him, before tapping at the end of her nose, chuffing slowly. She let out an indignant, but charming squeak, dispelling from the morose aura she surrounded herself in. He stretched out, encircling her form with his, and nuzzled softly at her shoulder. He paused, giving her time to make up her mind, before curling up more when he felt curious fingers slowly pet at his scales.

There is only so much he could do with this form, a far cry from the freedom that speech has granted him in his other when negotiating or imparting knowledge. It is... different, but not an unwelcome experience. He could only hope she is lucid enough to understand his meaning: comprehension, compassion, and comfort. For not only does he want any innocent under his watch, directly or indirectly, to go unscathed, but also to sate the growing curiosity he has for such an interesting entity – is she of the divine? Is she only mortal, but not of this world?

Will she be a threat to his Liyue?

He may yet know. Maybe not for a long time. But until then, he will oversee, he will keep watch – just as he has done for more than the past three millenia.

Hm. How peculiar. The thought seems... heavier, somehow.

Ah. He could feel the weight of her stare, full of disbelief. He refrained from snorting, giving her more time to digest that he's not just all brawn, unyielding like the Ice Crystals in Dragonspine. He can be as soft as clay when the need arises.

Eventually, her shoulders sagged, wordlessly admiting defeat. He closed his eyes again, satisfied.

Never has his persuasions failed. He is not about to break his record now.

-{-}-

Arriving at Granny Ruoxin's was easier than Stella thought, the sun barely peaking over Mt. Qingce. All was still and quiet, except for the bubbling waters and creaking wood from Ms. Bai's mill. She hurried, self consciously sneaking glances around her.

The moment they arrived at the steps, she turned and place her bag down, opening the flap.

“Inside,” she gestured with a pointed finger, raising a brow when the creature blinked back. “Since you seem unbothered of revealing yourself to people, I assume they're used to you here. But Mei isn't. I prefer controlling how you two would meet, even though its the Lilies I want to show her more.”

When the guardian narrowed its eyes, seeming to think it over, Stella closed her own, running a hand through her hair, channeling what remains of her composure.

Feeling movement and the soft brush of fur, Stella snapped her eyes open, seeing the guardian's tail curl up over the glowing blooms before settling, remaining still, like a large coil of braided rope around a wooden pole – except its a rock-like creature surrounding delicate little flowers. It's quite an enchanting sight.

Eyes softening, a small smile finally graced her tired face. “Thank you, Mr. Guardian.” She chuckled at the muffled, reply snort.

-{-}-

“You're back! Bekfast is ready~ Look! Mei helped Chief-dàmā lots!”

Mission failed.

Stella smiled, blank face a front to the series of fluctuating emotions coursing through her body. She watched the energetic girl stop long enough to set the table, tongue sticking out in concentration, before hopping back over to Granny Ruoxin.

“Don't just stand there, young lady. Dust yourself off and eat your fill. Little Mei has been excited to let you try her, ah, version of the Noodles with Mountain Delicacies,” the village chief crooned, eyeing her bag speculatively, but otherwise said nothing else about her night run.

“Yes. I'll, ah, go do that,” she muttered, facing forward to hide her back better. Its either Mei thought I was out early morning, or she's more perceptive and more understanding than a little girl should be. Her shoulders sagged again. She's maturing too fast.

When the busybodies turned back to coo excitedly at the stove, Stella mutely trudged to the next room, arms hugging a few choice items she snatched from a basket on the way.

Shutting the door with a soft kick, she kneeled at a corner, arranging the apples and sunsettias in a neat pile before shouldering her pack down. Star dotted orbs welcomed her at the opened flap, before a long muzzle slipped out, sniffing curiously at her offering. She hummed, “It's not much, I know. Unfortunately, the meat can't go missing before breakfast.” Stella stood, wetting a clean cloth nearby to scrub at her dusty face. “You prefer that don't you? With those teeth, you're definitely a predator. Or are you one of those spirits that prefer something exotic? Like a dish with fins or tentacles or – ” The creature reared back, snout scrunching in offense. Stella stifled a giggle, surprised at the unusually strong reaction.

Looks like its not made of rocks after all.

She quickly moved behind a screen, both to hide her amusement and freshen up. “That's good to know then. We're a long ways away from the sea. Just thinking about going to the harbor and back here is already exhausting.” She waited until she heard the telltale crunch of fruit being consumed before taming her hair, and using another cloth to wipe at herself as best she could.

“Lala? Lalaaa! You're taking so long. Mei's food will go cold!” A loud bang and the rush of small feet, which skid to an abrupt halt, silence following right after. Stella knitted her brow, confused, before her eyes widened, struggling against her clothes, sweating again for an entirely different reason.

-{-}-

In the many years Morax has existed, conquering all that oppose him, that threaten the safety of his chosen land, he fought foes that would otherwise destroy the very flesh and bones of beings made less than the divine. He subdued those that were as fierce and explosive as lava, that were dark and deceitful as magma, and those that were as cold and savage as the wild waters of the seas.

But the age of gods and monsters have passed, and a new age arose. A prosperous age. An eon of peace, much soughtafter. An era where the fragile could grow freely, in between the cracks of devastation and desolation. To spread their reach, and flourish. To learn. To improve. To create. To thrive and beautify, until those years of senseless destruction is but a distant memory, a myth, to be debated until the sands of time bury it completely.

A time now, where a tiny babe could boldly approach him, awe and amazement coloring her diminutive features, before gesticulating in proper, albeit clumsy courtesy. A whispered “Bìxià” solemnly left her lips. He rested on his haunches, blinking slowly, before nodding in acknowledgement. The child suddenly turned away, as if nothing had happened, inquisitively digging through the opened pack. She squealed, understanding immediately where the glowing is coming from.

Such splendid manners from a child so young. Sharp as a blade, but still so carefree. She is well cared.

Before long, the Miss... Lala was it? – or was this just a demonstration of the child's affection to the lady? – stumbled from behind the privacy divider, stuttering an explanation for his presence. She stopped at the child's happy sounds, eyes wide. Her shoulders relaxed as he continued to eat his humble meal, eyes closing to hide his amusement.

Ha! So even a fiery siren such as she can lose composure. Fascinating.

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[←Previous] | Chapter 3 | [ Next → ]

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A/N: I don’t know why I’ve agonized over this chapter. Mostly about how Zhongli should be addressed. Ah well~

#To Be Seen #zhongli x female OC #zhongli x oc #fanfiction #companion mini exuvia #shapeshifting archon #zhongli

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stepheny-stoker · 4 years

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The Volturi guard + pets

Demetri likes cats. They're elegant just like he is and can be left alone while he's on a mission.

When he doesn't have company, he likes to take it slow and relax, especially when the cat is purring or sleeping in a cute position.

He spray or neuter each and every cat he owns because once kittens wreaked havoc in his walk-in closet and it's NOT happening again.

He would hire someone to feed the cat while he's on missions and to clean the litter box, because there is no way Demetri would do that himself.

He likes rare breeds and would go to a great distance to find the perfect cat.

Felix likes big, fluffy dogs. Anything smaller makes him worry he's going to accidentally hurt them.

He likes to take long walks with his dog, and sometimes he brings along Demetri, with whom he plays a very unfair game of hide and seek, or Alec, because the kid needs a break from all the drama going in in the castle.

Every time a dog of his dies, Felix mourn and claims he doesn't want to even look at a dog anymore. 30 years later, Demetri and Heidi bring him to a local shelter and our big guy inevitably falls in love with a new pup.

#AdoptDontShop

The twins take care of the fish in the pond, feeding them with extreme attention. They get mad at anyone who dares throw something like stale bread at those lovely creatures (why do vampires have stale bread anyway?).

They also love bigger animals and Caius got them two lovely horses.

Alec's horse is black and tall. He loves going on rides for entire days, maybe even a week or two if the masters allow.

Jane's mare is white and extremely sweet. Jane likes taking care of her and she takes hours at a time, brushing her and braiding her tail.

Jane is obviously unaware of this, but Caius got her that horse hoping that she would benefit from taking care of another being and it did. So you could say that Jane is doing pet therapy.

They love going on short rides together. After all, who wouldn't enjoy Tuscany while on horseback?

Renata has lots of hamsters. She bought only three. It's out of control now and soon the castle will be full or rodents.

Heidi doesn't like the idea of another being depending on her, but she occasionally buys bread to feed the lovely birds outside of her window.

Corin has tried multiple time to lure the squirrels at the park into the castle. A mission unsuccessful to this day.

Even though he's not supposed to, Afton has a snake in his room. He knows he's not allowed to (since one high-ranking member of the guard is scared, nay terrified of them) so he uses his power on it.

#volturi #aro volturi #caius volturi #felix volturi #demetri volturi #jane volturi #marcus volturi #the twilight saga #twilight saga #Alec volturi #Heidi volturi #Renata volturi #Afton volturi #Volturi guard #Volturi guards #twilight reinassence #twilight reimagined #twilight shitpost

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xiakha · 3 years

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FFXIVWrite2021 Prompt #6 - Avatar

"Tell me about Fray."

Sidurgu did not look up from the strap on his pauldron he was mending, but he did stay his hands. He responded with one word.

"Why?"

Xiao shrugged in a nonchalant manner, also not looking up from her own armor maintenance, "Just making conversation."

"Absolutely not."

This made Xiao glance over with a scowl, meeting and matching Sid's, or at least whatever passed as more scowling than Sid's usual expression.

"Your Darkside already manifests in my dead friend's image. I will do naught that would empower it more, intentionally or unintentionally." His eyes narrowed further, "I'll pray for both our sakes that you're not asking so you can make your Darkside more accurate."

Xiao looked away, tail flicking in annoyance, "I have no such ulterior motives. I just barely know what a Dark Knight is, past the hearsay and whispers of the Temple Knights. You've not been forthwith about you and yours, after all."

The Au'ra set down the pauldron and sighed, "There's naught to be forthwith about. Ser Ompagne refounded our so-called order after its destruction decades before. From what he could tell or at least what he told me, ever since the Temple Knights and Inquisitors started besetting themselves on the smallfolk, we Dark Knights rise again and again in their defense. Getting to know me or mine or Fray will do you no better than listening to yourself and your own righteousness."

The Miqo'te hmphed in a way that would make Gaius van Baelsar proud.

"For what it's worth, and I do not say this lightly, I could not imagine a better soul to fill his legacy." Sid offered a very brief sincere smile. It didn't suit him at all.

"I think most would find your imagination wanting."

Xiao ducked to dodge the riveter thrown at her head.

* * *

"He was warm and kind, but stern," Rielle said, chopping vegetables, "Like a gauntlet of steel wrapped in wool and fur."

Xiao stopped stirring the pot for a moment in contemplation.

"You'll have to understand, we were constantly relocating in the shadows to stay ahead of the Temple Knights, and what little time we had together, Fray did his best to teach me conjury. There was hardly any time in the few moons we spent together to really speak of other matters."

Xiao wanted to ask how, as someone who knew no conjury whatsoever at the time, Fray-- Nay, her Darkside, was able to cast conjury, but it didn't seem like a fair question to ask the young Elezen. Not that she would have a good explanation either way.

"He and Sid would argue long into the night about the right course of action. He believed we should hide out in the Hinterlands for a spell until the Temple Knights let up on their search. Sid refused to leave Ishgard for the sake of those like me. He insisted I was nothing special, just another poor soul to save, and 'twas a betrayal of his teacher's legacy to abandon the others for our own sake."

And just how many did you save in that time running around, Sid?

Speaking of, the Au'ra finally returned, two hapless cloudkin thrown over his shoulder.

"These may be a bit gamey, but it's sustenance all the same."

"The time you've been gone, I swore you'd be bringing back a Moogle," Xiao said, with a sly smile.

Sid looked up in mock contemplation as Rielle squealed in protest, "How dare you even joke about that! We are not hurting any more Moogles!"

What was it about Elezen women and favoring the white bepommed bastards?

No matter.

* * *

And now, as expected, it returns to this, does it not? Perhaps you know where this is going, and what role I play.

Overlooking a certain cliff, out at the city of Ishgard, well, where the city of Ishgard would be if not for the constant cloud and snow and gloom. They were never really good at symbolism, were they? Or perhaps it was all too fitting.

Francel had left, and it was just Xiao staring off into the off-white void...

And the abyss below.

Did I deign it necessary to make an appearance? Nay. In this search for truth amongst falsehoods, how could yet another lie help?

Ah, but how could it hinder?

"I'm not going to ask you the same question," Xiao said, sitting down at the edge, letting her feet dangle, "For I feel I already know the answer."

But of course she did ask, internally. But of course she knew the answer before she had finished thinking. As you know, she and I--

"But yes, it matters to me. I just wish I were less adrift in all of it."

Perhaps, dear reader, you can guess my response.

It was folly to ask, but she had to pursue that folly for questions she knew couldn't be answered.

"Nothing huh? Perhaps I really was better off being ordered around by Alphinaud." She flicked some snow off the side of the cliff with a gauntlet and watched it fall deep into the Sea of Chaos below.

How far deep was that abyss indeed?

In all of these pleasant but tumultuous falsehood, did one determine the truth by which ever ideas were tumultuous and unpleasant? Was that the grim reality of it all? Or perhaps just another layer of fiction on top of more fiction. The Temple Knights guarded and maintained a deception. Did the Dark Knights that opposed them slice closer to the truth?

How would you answer her, I wonder? What learning was she supposed to take from this cryptic lesson from her long departed teacher?

Can you stack lies until you reach a truth?

"Who was Fray?" she asked, "What are Dark Knights?" she asked.

When really, she was really asking "Who am I?"

"What have I become?"

What indeed.

#incarnate divine teacher #ffxiv #FFxivWrite2021 #FFxivWrite #wordvomit #if it isn't obvious #Fray is the avatar in question #riffing off the definition #idk there was an attempt #misc fic #warrior of awkward

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olivereliott · 3 years

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Top Five Harley-Davidson Sportsters, Part One: Ironheads

Harley-Davidson has just rebooted one of the world’s longest-running model lines, with the launch of the new Sportster S. But remarkably, it’s only the third major engine update in the Sportster’s 60-plus years on this earth.

Before the new Revolution Max-powered Sportster S came, we had the Evolution motor that debuted in 1986. And before that, the iconic Ironhead. But throughout each era, the Sportster has always been a mainstay of the custom scene.

To celebrate, we’ve rounded up our ten favorite Sportster builds, divided by their motors. This week, we’re featuring five top-shelf Ironheads from some of the world’s best custom builders—including illustrious names like Max Hazan [above] and Hideya Togashi [below].

Next week, it’s the Evo’s turn.

Hide Motorcycle There’s a long history of Japan’s love for Americana, and the humble Sportster is no exception. Case in point: this Ironhead Sportster by Hideya Togashi of Hide Motorcycle (that’s ‘Hee-day’). It was one of the stars of 2018’s Mooneyes show—a show that Togashi-san is a regular fixture at.

The bike’s built around an original but refurbished 1966 XLCH motor, complete with a Linkert DC-7 carb. But the rest of it is mostly is custom, and it was built without any specific style or theme in mind. “As always, I cherish the balance, and maximize the beauty,” says Hideya.

The motor sits in a scratch-built nickel-plated hardtail frame, with the OEM frame number plate grafted on. Hideya kept the original steering head, triples and forks, but added custom sleeves. The Harley rolls on 21F/18R wheels with drum brakes.

Hideya fabricated the aluminum headlight nacelle and fuel tank, and built the oil tank. The rear fender’s been scalped from a vintage Harley FX Super Glide, then modified to suit. Swept back bars and a pair of beautifully-bent nickel-plated exhausts add to the vintage vibe.

The paint’s extra classy too—a 1930s Harley scheme laid down by Skop Paint Works. Hide’s Ironhead blends vintage speedway and flat track styles together to create a minimalistic and impossibly cool machine. The perfect use of an Ironhead motor. [More]

Hot Chop Speed Shop Here’s another bike that stopped visitors to the 2018 Mooneyes event dead in their tracks: a twin-engined Harley drag bike by Kentaro Nakano at Hot Chop Speed Shop in Kyoto. Using two Sportster XLCH engines, Nakano-san built the monster as a tribute to the drag racers of the 70s.

Unsurprisingly, it picked up two awards at the show—from the top Japanese mags, Hot Bike and Vibes.

‘Double Trouble’ uses a 1969 Ironhead in front, with an older engine at the rear. Both run with S&S Super B carbs, fitted with custom velocity stacks. Kentaro’s friend Kazuhiro Takahashi of Sakai Boring helped rebuild the engines.

The two V-twins are linked by connecting plates, and their output shafts are connected to two separate primaries. The transmission’s a four-speed from a 1980s Big Twin and Kentaro has set the timing of the two motors so that they go ‘potato potato’ at idle, but scream at high revs.

The whole arrangement is housed in a custom hardtail frame, fabricated from steel tubing. There’s a set of early 70s Ducati Imola forks up front, with 18” rims at both ends wrapped in M&H drag slicks. Kentaro installed a pair of Airheart brakes up front, with a Wilwood brake out back.

All of the bodywork was fabricated in aluminum, from scratch. Fuel sits in the cylindrical reservoir up front, with oil held in the seat ‘cowl.’ Custom upholstery from Atelier Cherry adds to the period-correct look.

Double Trouble’s finished off with a narrow set of custom drag bars, with a 1970s H-D tacho out front. The bodywork’s been left raw, with tidy Hot Chop Speed Shop decals on the tank. Buttoned up, it’s both elegant and monstrous. [More]

Hazan Motorworks Max Hazan’s work speaks for itself, but what’s remarkable is that the American builder’s had an unmistakable signature from day one. If you don’t believe us, then consider the fact that this Sportster-powered artwork was only his fourth build.

“I start with a motor that I find aesthetically pleasing, put it on the table, and build the bike around it,” Max told us back then. In this case, the motor is exquisite. Max built it up with two 1981 Ironhead front heads, split the rocker covers and added matching Amal carbs.

The frame was built from 7/8” and 1” steel tubes, and also holds the oil and wiring. The front-end’s a work of art on its own; it uses two springs under the fuel tank, and a damper behind the headlight. The only rear suspension is a pair of springs under the seat, with about 1.5” of travel.

Max had a set of 1920s car tires in his hands, so he built the bike up with a 30” wheel out front, and a 31” hoop at the back. They suit the scale of the bike too—which measures eight feet long, but weighs just 300 lbs.

Almost everything was fashioned by hand, using metal that was lying around the workshop, or, in some cases, small salvaged parts. There’s a frosted shot glass as a taillight cover, and a porcelain doorknob on the hand shifter. The handmade tank only holds 1.5 gallons… but Max is under no illusions about his creation having to be ridden far.

Eight years on, this Ironhead still stands as one of our favorite Harleys—nay, customs—and some of Max’s best work. [More]

HardNine Choppers The 1979 Harley-Davidson XLCR is arguably too rare to be customized these days, but the owner of this Sporty has three. So he had no qualms about handing one over to Swiss builder Danny Schneider for a makeover.

Danny, who operates as HardNine Choppers, is an ex-motocrosser who had previously built two Triumph flat trackers, and was itching to give a Harley the same treatment. So he took on the project with the provision that he could turn it into a tracker. Luckily, the client agreed.

Danny’s work went deep—starting with the motor that he bored out from 997 cc to 1,340 cc, with KB Performance pistons. The carb is from the Harley performance specialists, S&S Cycle, and the exhaust is a custom nickel-plated system that exits under the seat. Danny had to relocate the oil tank to accommodate it.

The custom fuel tank echoes the lines of the original XLCR unit, but it’s actually a slimmer, split design (the left side houses the oil). Danny hand-shaped an aluminum tail section too, with slits to help dissipate heat. He made the seat pad himself, too.

Suspension is by way of Showa shocks from an FXR, fitted with Öhlins cartridges, and Bitubo rear shocks. It rolls on 21F/16R spoked wheels, with a Beringer brake set that Danny drove to the French company’s HQ to have made.

This XLCR is a clever mix of classic style and modern parts, tied together with a host of custom touches and a fresh paint job inspired by a mini-bike spotted on the street (true story).

It’s also a great story of perseverance; Danny took a two-year break in the middle of the project to welcome his daughter into the world and battle testicular cancer. Then he crammed two month’s worth of 15-hour days in to finish it in time for the MBE Expo show in Verona, Italy. Much respect. [More]

DP Customs We’ve featured a slew of slammed and hot-rodded Harleys from the now-defunct DP Customs over the years, but this was one of their wildest. Brothers Jarrod and Justin Del Prado built it as a personal project between client jobs, using Justin’s own 1000 cc 1979 Ironhead Sportster as a donor.

DP Customs went all-out, starting with a turbo that had been sitting in the shop waiting for the right project.

The motor was rebuilt with forged pistons and new valves and springs, then the turbo was installed with a custom draw-through setup, and a Mikuni carb. From the custom aluminum intake and exhaust, to the custom oil system that runs into a Mooneyes tank, it’s an impressive setup.

Like three of the other Harleys on this list, this one features a scratch-built hardtail frame. It uses DP Customs’ signature 6” stretch and 4” drop, with a custom 19” wheel up front, and a modified 15” car wheel at the back. The front brake’s a Brembo, and the rear is a custom system with a combination sprocket and rotor.

Up top is a wafer-thin seat, with a traditional peanut tank up front. DP Customs installed clip-ons with Biltwell Inc. grips, and head- and taillights—but there’s no speedo, and no turn signals. The asymmetrical paint job, red frame and gold wheels should clash, but somehow they harmonize, maximizing the Harley’s eye candy appeal.

DP Customs admit the bike wasn’t built with practicality in mind, summing up that “it hauls ass in a straight line, and the brakes work.” [More]

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starcountesseevee · 4 years

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A Rocket Coincidence (Part 26)

Part 25 / Part 27

Kali was pacing excitedly around the kitchen, it was Monday and Cliff was finally back in town after what felt like forever. While he had “work stuff” -his words- during the day they had already made plans for the evening and Kali couldn't wait. Mara had insisted that Kali take today off but she found herself actually kind of wishing she was working just so that the time would go faster. The sound of Mara’s bedroom opening alerted Kali and she looked over with a grin as Mara came into the kitchen.

“Good morning!”

"I thought I smelled bacon." Mara plopped down. “You’re certainly in a good mood. And up early.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kali beamed. “Although, that’s the last of the bacon so I'll probably run out to the store today, need anything else while I'm out?"

"Yeah I think we're low on patience, too. Think you can pick some of that up?" Mara teased as she made up a plate for herself.

"Oh hush. I'm plenty patient."

"Says the girl who's been counting the days...nay hours until today."

"Okay so I've just been a little excited to see my boyfriend, is that a crime?"

"Ahh to be young and in love…" Mara batted her eyelashes at Kali and threw her hand across her forehead dramatically.

"I...don't know about all that." Kali mumbled as she felt her cheeks flush.

"Sure you don’t.” Mara rolled her eyes as she passed Kali to head back to her bedroom. “But everyone else does. And by everyone else I mean me. I'll be at the studio if you need me!" She called back, cutting off any further argument Kali could have had. Love, Kali thought to herself with a scoff. Mara didn’t know what she was talking about.

Kali checked the time again as she headed down Skiploom Street. It wasn’t even noon yet and a trip to the store wasn’t going to waste the hours she had until this evening so she decided to take a longer walk and scan some Pokestops to maybe get her mind off the time. It had also been a while since she’d been able to stock up on some supplies and she would need the coins to do that anyway. Most Pokestops in the city only gave five to ten coins a day so getting a decent amount to spend was a job but there was one just around the next corner that Kali was pretty sure gave twenty.

“Hey,” Zeke nudged his co-trainee, Bradley, as he saw a red-headed girl with a pokeball dangling from her belt turn the corner. “Looks like she might be a trainer, guess we’ll get to show off to the boss after all.” He thought he had said it low enough but Cliff overheard from where he was leaning and rolled his eyes. They weren’t here to show off, they were here to do a job, he thought as he scanned through his emails from the weekend. Their training was over and this was supposed to be their first time out on their own, Cliff was just there to make sure their training paid off but so far he wasn’t impressed.

“Yeah she’s cute too, maybe I’ll get her to bet on more than just leaving when I win.” Both boys chuckled. Cliff frowned at that, he didn’t support that kind of talk. Another tick in the unimpressed box, he thought as he paid a little more attention to what was going on to make sure they didn’t start harassing whoever it was.

“What do we have here?” Zeke stepped forward taking the lead. Kali sighed as she spotted the two. Of course she would run into a Grunt here she thought as she questioned whether or not she felt like battling or turning around.

“Looks like a little troublemaker.” Bradley chimed in, mimicking Zeke by crossing his arms as well. Kali raised a brow and glanced between them. She had been considering backing down but “troublemaker”? What were they, five?

“Really? That’s the best you’ve got? Did you forget to pick up your brains this morning with your uniform?” Kali quipped and Cliff’s head shot up, he knew that voice.

“Hey, watch what you say, you’re messing with Team Rocket you know!” A sudden firm hand on his shoulder caused Zeke to turn around. Kali couldn’t hide the look of surprise on her face as Cliff pushed his way between the two grunts with a smirk.

“So these two idiots are yours?”

“They’re a work in progress.” They began to protest but one look from Cliff had them retreat a few steps and he turned back to Kali. “This is a nice surprise.” He said low enough for only her to hear. As much as he might have wanted to pull her in for a kiss right there he didn’t want to presume that she wanted their relationship status publicized, especially not in front of others from Team Rocket. And he was on the job. But mostly the first reason.

“It is.” She smiled coyly at him. “So that means you’re going to let me go scan that pokestop, right?” Cliff opened his mouth to answer but immediately shut it. There was no way he could just let her waltz right by with Zeke and Bradley watching. Not only would he look weak but they would probably go back to base and tell people he broke the rules. Kali must have read his silence correctly; when he glanced back at her she was eyeing him with a look that said are you really thinking about doing this? Okay so maybe challenging his girlfriend wasn’t the best idea but on the other hand maybe it was about time they had a battle.

“I think you know how this works, the only way you’re getting by is battling first.”

“Seems like a silly rule, but okay. Which one of those kids do you want me to trounce?”

“Neither, I think it’s about time we faced off don’t you?”

“Oh?” Kali held his gaze for a long moment. “Alright, if you’re so ready to get your butt kicked so be it.”

“I don’t think that’s how this is gonna go. But I’ll tell you what, I’ll even go easy on ya.”

“You can, but I won’t.” Kali could practically taste the tension hanging in the air between them. Cliff had a bit of an advantage as he had seen her battle before but she was pretty confident she could win regardless. And now that she had said it there was no backing down.

Cliff could hear the two idiots, as Kali so eloquently put it, behind him snickering something along the lines of “she’s gonna get her butt whooped” and had an idea that would probably shut them up. “How about we up the stakes then? If I win you have to go on a date with me.” He kept his expression neutral as he heard the two guys gasp behind them.

Kali bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, he was trying to show off in front of those kids wasn’t he? “And what if I already have a boyfriend?” She decided to play along.

“I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“I dunno, he’s a pretty big guy. Tough. I don’t think he’d like his girl making such deals with another man.” Kali stood her ground as Cliff took a few steps closer and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Maybe he is, dollface, but so am I.” He winked.

“Tell you what if you win, and that’s a pretty big if, I’ll think about it. But….” She glanced behind him to the QR code a little further down the street and decided on a term of her own. “If I win you have to abandon this pokestop and can’t block it off ever again.” She looked back at him challengingly.

“What?” Cliff frowned, fighting the urge to turn around and yell at the peanut gallery behind them, and lowered his voice before continuing. “That’s not something I can promise, doll.”

“Then don’t lose.” Kali smirked and reached for a pokeball before proclaiming loudly to get this match started, ending any further arguments on the matter. "Standard match I presume? Last one standing out of three?" She questioned as she racked her brain for any time Cliff had mentioned pokemon so she could pick a starter. If she remembered correctly he had mentioned Tyranitar and maybe Onyx and Torterra as well, all of which were rock types. Maybe there was something there.

“Right.” This had suddenly gone from playful banter to something a little more serious. He was a Leader with Team Rocket, there was no way he could just promise to not do his job. Didn’t she understand that? Not that he was going to lose.

“Ready when you are.” Both of them tossed pokeballs forward at the same time. Kali had chosen Clover, her Leafeon, gambling on her rock type theory. Her choice paid off as an Omanyte appeared across from her. Perfect. “Razor Leaf!” She tried getting the upper hand with a first move but Cliff was just as quick to have his Omanyte attack, but Mud Shot wasn’t going to do much against her grass type.

“Dodge!” Cliff was cursing inwardly as Kali’s Leafeon hopped swiftly around his slower Omanyte getting in far more hits than he would have liked. Within moments it was apparent that his Omanyte was outmatched and he swore under his breath as he was forced to return it. The two Grunts snickered.

Kali grinned as Clover returned to stand anxiously in front of her for Cliff’s second choice. By the look on his face he was not as amused as she was. “Alright, what’s next?” She murmured to her Leafeon as he tossed forward another ball. It was clearly something large, Kali thought as the pokemon began to take shape in front of her before becoming recognizable as an Electivire. Alright, so maybe her theory was wrong but an electric type wasn’t a huge obstacle and her Leafeon hadn’t taken much damage from the Omanyte anyway. At Cliff's command the large yellow pokemon charged forward, electric energy cracking between the two antennas on the top of its head. "Clover, dodge!" Her Leafeon jumped aside but not quickly enough and a jolt of electricity hit its hindquarters causing it to stumble. It quickly recovered as Kali called for it to use Razor Leaf again. The larger pokemon took the hits as it shot a few more bolts of electricity at Clover who managed to dodge most of them.

"Use Thunder Punch!" Cliff called with a grin, he might have had a rough start but the match was turning back around in his favor. The Electivire charged at Kali's Leafeon again, this time gripping its tail to get more of a charge on its attack.

"Hold and use Energy Ball!" Pulling this move off meant that Clover would most likely take the full force of the Electivire's attack but it should also be enough to knock out the opponent as well. The leaf shaped sprout on its head began to glow white as a green ball of energy started forming in front of its open mouth. “Now!” Kali called as soon as the Electivire got close enough and the ball of energy shot forward into the other pokemon’s chest but just like Kali had predicted it was able to hit Clover too, both pokemon skid backwards and were spent. As she returned Clover she made a mental note to make sure it got extra treats later.

“Dammit!” Cliff swore under his breath as he was forced to return his second pokemon. He had hoped to get Electivire’s charged attack in before it got hit but it was too slow. The smug look on Kali’s face was only fueling the well of anger rising in his chest, he couldn’t lose in front of two trainees! He had an example to set!

“I thought he was supposed to be tough.” Zeke whispered to Bradley but not quietly enough and his eyes went wide as Cliff rounded on him.

“One more word out of you two and it’s desk duty for a month!”

Two down, one to go. Kali took out her second pokeball as Cliff reached for his third. She wasn’t about to let up and chose her Vaporeon, Lyra, who was arguably her strongest Eeveelution. She was very much relieved when she saw Cliff’s selection, a Tyranitar. They had plenty of training against this particular pokemon after training with Cole so Kali knew she wouldn’t have to give Lyra much direction as they had a tried and true strategy.

“Water gun!” Lyra jumped into action sending small but quick jets of water at the Tyranitar that was advancing. Its stubby arms swatted away at some of the jets as it went in for an attack and Lyra just managed to jump out of the way of its teeth, although Kali had to admit Cliff’s was much faster than the one Cole had.

“Use Iron Tail!” The large green creature swung around deftly as its tail began to glow white and before Lyra could jump out of the way its tail crashed into her Vaporeon’s side. Cliff wasted no time in having his Tyranitar attack again as the Vaporeon got back on its feet.

“Dodge!” Lyra obeyed and before Kali could call for another attack she was already shooting more jets of water at the Tyranitar, she seemed angry that it had gotten a hit in on her and was retaliating in full force. “Yes, go girl!”

That Vaporeon was too damn fast. Changing strategies Cliff shouted for his pokemon to use Stone Edge, hopefully this would give him the upper hand again. Turning to face its opponent the Tyranitar slammed its hands onto the street and a wave of rock pillars shot towards Lyra causing her to stumble as she scurried to avoid them. “Quick, Iron Tail while its recovering!” But Lyra wasn’t falling for that again and shot a quick jet of water at the Tyranitar’s face to distract it before moving swiftly behind it.

“Hydro Pump!” Kali practically yelled with excitement. Before Cliff’s pokemon could react Lyra opened her mouth and a large, forceful jet of water slammed into the Tyranitar’s back causing it to crash forward into the ground.

“Get up, dammit!” To the creature’s credit it did try to but wound up slumping back down onto the pavement defeated.

“Yes!” Kali cheered as she recalled her Vaporeon. “Told you I’d win.”

“What the hell?!" Her elation was short lived as Cliff stormed towards her with a scowl.

"What the hell, what?" She glared back at him, why was he so angry about this? This was certainly new, was he really that big of a sore loser?

"There's no way you should have been able to beat me with just a couple of Eeveelutions!"

"Excuse me?! Just what is that supposed to mean?" A hot spark of anger flared in her chest as her hands clenched into fists at her side.

"It means I shouldn't have lost to a...to a pipsqueak like you! You’re not even on a Team!"

“Pipsqueak!? Did you forget who you’re talking to?” Kali glared up at him, she wasn’t going to show it but the not being on a Team comment stung more than the name calling. She was clearly just as good as anyone else regardless of not being on a Team and he knew it.

Cliff took a deep breath as he met her furious gaze. “No…” He relented a little and lowered his voice before continuing. “But really, you had to beat me in front of my trainees?”

“I told you I wasn’t going to go easy! I’m not going to lose just so you can show off!” Stars, she was angry. “You know what, forget this.” Kali spun on her heels and stalked off towards the corner.

“Kali, wait!” Cliff jogged after her, catching up right before she reached it. “Babe look I-”

“Save it.” One look told Cliff he should probably back off for now.

“Alright, we’ll talk later then.” He replied weakly as she walked off. It was probably better to wait until they both had a chance to cool off anyway.

Part 25 / Part 27

A huge shout out to @rubystartrail for always being willing to chat through writer’s block! And to @nenalata for being an avid reader!

#cliff pokemon go #pokemon go cliff #pokemon go #pokemon go fanfiction #leader cliff #Team rocket cliff #team go rocket #eeveelution

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nad-zeta · 4 years

Text

Match up! (~˘▾˘)~

Hi again…can I get an Ikevamp match-up? I got curious on who I would end up with tbh😅😅😅

About myself…I never lose a temper, I am extremely shy and quiet, it’s extremely difficult for me to trust new people. I am around 5'9 feet tall, above shoulder length messy brown hair tied into a ponytail; I would be mistaken for a boy if I let my hair down. I wouldn’t even notice if they mistook me for a boy until someone addresses me as one😅😅😅. I look intimidating at first sight because 1.)I am silent most of the time, I look cold and aloof, I never smile, and 2.) I can be blunt without noticing + my difficulty of showing emotions would make them think I’m judging their soul *yikes…whoops?😅😅😅*. That intimidates most people and when in reality when I am the one who feels more intimidated by them. 😅😅

Once I warm up, I have this side that only my family and close friends know. I get along well with anybody; I won’t judge people for their race, beliefs, personality, religion, and all. It doesn’t exist here when I befriend them 😊. I have this weird sense of humor that can turn dark and morbid without noticing… 😅😅 I am like a child at Christmas when it comes to new art supplies, baking, and cooking new recipes; I love sharing it with my family and friends. I can compare my strength to a guy and I can carry heavy things without a problem😅… I love to play the guitar and I used to play the piano when I was younger and I missed playing it. I’m extremely rusty after not practicing for 7 years now😥. I can still read music notes, and it will take longer for me to navigate the piano if I play it. I mostly draw and paint right now tho…

I’m not a fan of wearing girly clothes, and I would rather stick to wearing good ol’ shirts, polo (long/short sleeves), pants, and hoodies style. I avoid drinking alcohol because I easily get tipsy; I’d turn into a loud drunk after a few sips. My friends would often keep me away from who knows what they’re reading and watching stuff… Told me that they don’t want me to taint my innocent eyes and soul or something like that…I never cuss even if I’m used to hearing my classmates swear like a sailor. The first time my friends hear me accidentally swear, they look at me in horror and demanded me to know where I got that word🤣🤣

I don’t like loud and crowded places, I would feel dizzy and suffocated if I stayed there for too long. There will be times on where I’m nowhere to be found since I would look for an isolated place somewhere around the corner for me to hide whenever I want to draw or paint. I am not really confident of my skills in drawing; I have a bad habit of hiding those from my family *which annoys them*. I have another bad habit of being stubborn whenever I got sick, and I wouldn’t even let anyone know I am unwell because I do not want anyone to worry about me. But when someone noticed, I would admit that I am sick. *I would go to school even when sick so I can finish my school works because, whenever I miss a class, there will always be some of them who would deliberately not tell me that I missed something in class so…i learned the hard way.😅* …

I easily get startled by sudden noises if I let my guard down: objects making a loud sound when they drop. I don’t know how to deal with physical affections and would probably get stiff and flustered. I’m not used to guys hugging me cuz would go stiff whenever a guy hugs me *I love hugs and all but… I’m not used to being hugged by guys… 🙁* I’m a bit of a disaster-prone whenever I’m outside, and would accidentally hit my head on lower tree branches and lower places, sometimes I would accidentally sprain my ankle on the uneven ground *if someone made me wear heels especially if it’s stilettos*. 😅😅😅

Yay: I love my coffee with a ridiculous amount of milk and with less sugar; baking, cooking, sweets, drawing, painting, digital art, music, cats, dogs, pokemon, Manga, anime.

Nay: I despise certain types of vegetables that are bitter and slimy. My face would shrivel up seeing those kinds of vegetables. Animal cruelty is a big no-no for me; I normally don’t get angry, and I forgive people within a blink of an eye *that annoys my family a lot😅* but, I will make an exception for that.

I can control my own anger, that no one can tell I am fuming.

If it’s ok with you…😅😅😅 Took me a long time to figure out how to send a more detailed one. 😂😂 I think that’s enough spilling tmi about myself… Whoopsie…😅😅 🦊🐱🦊🐱

Hi hi love! ❤🌻Thank you so much for the request! I had so much fun writing this up for ya and i hope you enjoy it dear! ❤🦊Also i hope you are keeping safe and well and have a super good day!🐇❤ Also sooooorrrry for taking 2 billion years with this! hehe so without further ado........... @xarexraven

So I match you with…………… Theo

The first time you met everyone, you were so quiet and reserved hiding behind Comte. They took one look at you and instantly thought, “oooh great another male guest.” You were wearing a hoodie and jeans and your hair tie keeping your hair in a ponytail, had just snapped as you walked through the door. Comte gave you a gentle push to introduce yourself, and one look at your intimidating face, had the entire household believing that they had another tsundere in their midst.

During dinner, you had hardly noticed that they all thought you were a boy. The residents all started retiring to their rooms after dessert, when Sebastian handed you a final cup of coffee, “Here you are sir.” Your eyes widened, and you started up at Sebastian in confusion, too shy to correct him/ That is when Comte who was still sitting beside you gave your head a gentle pat, “Sebastian it is quite rude to mistake our precious guest for a boy, especially one who is beautiful.” Both you and Sebastian were left blushing at the comment, that’s when Vincent, who was the only other resident still at the table, spoke up. “I have to agree with Comte, it is not nice to call someone so pretty, a boy.” The resident angel beamed up at you, while Sebastian apologised profusely, and through it all, the only thing you could think was, “man, this is awkward.”

The next morning after Comte explained the whole, everyone in this mansion is a vampire thing, you wandered around the mansion aimlessly. Well, that is until Napoleon came across you and grabbed your hand, dragging you to the dining room, where a feast of sugary goodness laid wait. He told you that he had made way too many pancakes and that they needed help finishing them. No one in the mansion had seen you smile yet, but at the sight of the giant stack of sugary pancakes, you couldn’t help but beam. Vincent had spotted you and flagged you over to sit next to him. “Oi knaap, don’t go hog all the pancakes, save some of the rest of us will you,” Theo loudly exclaimed as you loaded up your plate to a stack of pancakes almost as high and his. At the sound of Theo calling you a boy, Vincent narrowed his eyes at Theo and started scolding his younger brother for being so rude. Theo stared at you in disbelief but with your hair now in a pony tail he simply shrugged and gave you a new nickname “Hondjie”. With the misunderstanding finally cleared up once and for all, you made quick work of polishing off the stack of pancakes with the three men.

After lunch Vincent gave Theo a detailed list of art supplies that he needed, and at the mention of art supplies your ears perked up. Your eyes gleamed in excitement, and your cold, aloof exterior changed to one of an excited child on Christmas morning. Your cheeks were starting to hurt, that had been a record of two smiles in one day. Although even though your smiling felt weird to you, to the three me it was the most beautiful sight. Theo took notice of your enthusiasm and in his typical indifferent voice, asked if you wanted to come along for the ride. You without a second thought nodded, you basically radiated excitement as you went upstairs to put on some shoes and get a jacket. You met Theo out in the foyer, and soon the two of you made your way to the art supply store.

Comte had told you that you were free to break the bank and buy anything and everything your heart desired, on the condition that he would be able to see your first piece of art created with the new supplies.

You were so excited at the thought of new art supplies and being able to continue your passion for art, even though you were stuck in the past, that you let your guard down a little with Theo. He asked you in his usual blunt way, why you were dressed like a boy and not wearing skirts and dresses like other women. You told him that you were most comfortable wearing pants and hoodies. The way your eyes were beaming, low key reminded him of his precious brother, and he found himself low key drawn to your pure, innocent energy.

The two of you spent hours and hours picking out the perfect supplies, you were low key shook at Theo’s knowledge about art and supplies. He actually helped you pick out the best supplies for your personal drawing and painting style. After spending hours in the art shop. The two of you made your way to the waiting carriage, when Theo spotted an ice cream store, his eyes lit up at the thought of sweets. When you saw how excited he was, you suggested that the two of you investigate the shop before heading back.

For the first time in Theo van Gogh whole existence, a woman had paid for him. He was sitting across from you in the ice cream parlour while you were happily eating away at your sugary treat, still trying to process it all. You had paid as a token of thanks for him helping you pick out the best art supplies. What shocked him even more was during argument about the bill you legit gave him a deadpan look and bluntly said that you were ganna treat him no matter what. After that comment you legit left him blushing and speechless, you truly were a strange woman.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments when you finally decided to break the ice. You curiously asked why it was that he knew so much about art, and that’s when he revealed that he was an art dealer. And so the rest of the afternoon was spent chatting about art, paintings, drawings and your mutual passion and appreciation for the trade. To say Theo was pleasantly surprised by you would be an understatement, his first impression of you was now so laughable compared to the person sitting before him. The first time he saw you, he thought you an aloof, little boy who seemed to judge him down to the very depths of his soul. Yet as he got to know you, he had come to realise that there was much more to you.

In the weeks to follow you seemed to surprise Theo more and more. The first thing that had this boy sister shook was your inhuman strength. One day as you were helping Isaac sorts out the library. The two of you had managed to fill up 2 huge boxes of junk and clutter that could be stored in the mansions attic. Isaac lifted one of the boxes and determined that it was too heavy for the both of you, so he went to call Theo or Leo who would have an easier job with doing the heavy lifting. As Theo rounded to the corner to help move the boxes, he almost rammed straight into you. “Oi hondjie, you are going to hurt yourself let me take…” As he took the box from your hands, his face started going red, and a vein in his neck started popping out. The box you had been carrying was obviously almost too heavy for him to carry, he turned around swiftly and started walking up the attic stairs. It took you no time to catch up to him carrying another heavy box of your own. At this point you could see a bead of sweat roll down his face. Theo was determined to carry this box up, there was no way he was going to be shown up by a girl, especially one that he liked. He finally made it to the top of the attic and place the box down with a huff, you had to laugh at the small blush that was still on his cheeks.

Just then out of the corner of your eye, an old piano caught your attention. Theo eyed you curiously still recovering from the blow to his ego, as you sat down on the dusty piano chair and blew the dust of the piano keys. Your fingers moved to their own accord, gliding across the keys to play a familiar song from muscle memory. Theo sat down next to you and closed his eyes to absorb the beautiful melody. As the last note echoed through the attic, Theo opened his eyes, and sapphire eyes glared down into the depths of your soul. He had honestly never in his life felt more drawn to anyone, before he could say anything your stomach gave a loud growl. It was now your turn to blush and look away in embarrassment. Theo then leads you downstairs, where he whipped you up some stroopwafels.

You tied the apron around your waist and helped Theo prepare the sugary dessert. You were so excited and happy, you loved baking and learning/exchanging new recipes. Once the two of you were done making the sweet snack, you sat down and munched on the Stroop waffles and coffee. The rest of the afternoon was spent chatting about your mutual hate for bitter slimy vegetables and love for dogs as you ate the sugary snack and sipped on coffee. This actually started a tradition between the two of you, where once in a while the two of you would exchange recipes and cook your favourite dishes together.

One day as Theo joined Comte in his room for some tea, he saw a beautiful painting hanging behind Comte, it was just filled with so much emotion. “Hey, Comte, did Vincent paint that one, I haven’t seen it before.” Comte gleamed in delight and told him that you were the artist responsible for the masterpiece and that you had given it to him as a thank you gift for the art supplies. Theo was shook, he knew you loved art but to have created such a masterpiece. He stomped his way to your room and knock on your door. He could hear shuffling from the other side, he swung the door open and spotted you throwing a heap full of tissues in the dustbin and hiding the trashcan behind you. All it took was one look at your red nose, pale face and tired eyes to know that you were clearly sick. You tried to play it off and make your way past Theo to help Sebastian with lunch service, when Theo picked you up and plonked you down on your bed. The second your head hit the pillow, your tired eyes closed and you lost consciousness. You woke a few hours later to Theo sitting by your side gently stroking your hair while placing a cold washcloth on your forehead every now and then. You stubbornly tried to convince him that you weren’t sick. Theo narrowed his eyes at you and in a soft, gentle tone said, “Hondjie can you just stop being stubborn for one minute and let me take care of you.” Theo had nursed you back to full health and you got to see a new side of Theo that you had never seen before, his sweet kind gentle side. It was actually during this time when Theo had confessed his undying love for you.

Theo love love loved your art and would insist you show him your masterpieces once you are done with them. He knew your weren't confident in your skills and would usually hide your drawings so he did what any reasonable person would do. He tickled you until you gave up the hiding spot so he could see your creation.

He also knows you don’t like crowded places or loud noises, so he actually cleared up a room for you to use as your own art room to work in peace, where no one was allowed to disturb you.

He knew you would get dizzy and feel suffocated whenever the two of you would walk through a busy crowd in the markets. So now every time the two of you cuties go out, he was sure to plan your route using back roads to avoid unnecessary crowds or he would bring King along for a walk with you. Even though King is a sweet, friendly golden retriever, he has come to love you and will do whatever it takes to protect the new member of his pack. Even if that means angry staring down people so they can part like the red sea before you and Theo.

Theo absolutely loves you to the moon and back. He loves your sweet innocent mind and will always cover your ears and glare daggers at Arthur whenever he is telling stories of previous nights conquests as he “doesn’t want Arthur to taint your innocent mind and soul.”

He absolutely loves to finally have someone around who gets his dark, morbid sense of humour and who can equally match his weird jokes. Often when the two of you are together, you would be quick-firing the weirdest jokes at each other, while being in stitches laughing at each other.

Theo also loves how you have similar beliefs as him in not judging people. It was due to this that he was completely able to open up about his past with you. You helped him to heal and grow from his past traumas. You helped catch him many a time before falling in the abyss, dragging him out back into the light.

Both of you were pretty awkward when it came to physical affection at the beginning of your relationship. However, after many, a stiff, awkward hug followed by a fit of laughter from how awkward the two of you were, eventually the two of you started to get more comfortable around each other.

Now when Theo cuddles you, as you draw him as a manga character, the two of you chuckle at the memory of how stiff and awkward it was the first time the two of you had even held hands. Theo will 100% always insist on holding your hand whenever the two of you go outside as he knows just how accident-prone you are when it comes to nature.

Ultimately Theo loves to spend quiet evenings with you snuggled up in his arms as the two of you exchange stories of each other days. He loves to read all your little manga’s you manage to create for him. Although he will never admit it, he always gets super excited when you tell him about an anime you watched or show him your newest manga drawing. He will shower you with endless amounts of hugs and cuddles from the moment you go to bed till the moment you wake up. And every morning without fail Theo will greet you with a freshly bred cup of milky coffee and a kiss.

Other potential matches…………… Vincent

I hope you enjoyed this dear and i hope you have the best day! 🦊🌻❤

#matchups #ikesen matchup #match ups #ikevamp matchup #ikevamp match up #theo ikevamp #ikevamp theodorus #Theodorus van Gogh #ikemen vampire theodorus #submission

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shirtlesssammy · 4 years

Text

7x01: Meet the New Boss

Then:

Cas is God now, and I’ve never been more devout.

Now:

We start right where we left off. Cas wants the rest of TFW to love and respect him but they only fear him. Well, dude, you can explode them with a snap of your finger. Dean asks if he’s going to kill them. He has no need; They’re powerless against him, so they’re not going to try anything. Dean pleads with Cas again. But all Cas says is that he hopes, for their sake, this will be the last time they see him, and he’s gone.

Dean asks Sam how he’s doing. Sam falls, cuts his hand, and sees visions of Hell. So, peachy.

God!Cas is really taking the whole God Complex to a new level. He kills off a ton of angels in Heaven. “It is a new day on Earth and in Heaven. Rejoice.”

Dean’s soul Baby is once again in a sad state of disrepair. Sam’s resting while Bobby and Dean discuss trying to find where God II is chilling. Bobby suggests looking for a trenchcoat on a tortilla and I sometimes love watching episodes I don’t rewatch a lot because that was funny. Dean has no clue how to deal with Cas, but he can fix his car, and when Sam wakes, he can work on fixing him too.

Later, Dean’s grabbing a beer when Sam walks into the kitchen. He’s okay! Okay enough, at least. Dean tells him to come help with the car and they’ll talk about what to do about Cas. Sam starts to walk out when.

A homophbic preacher is giving a shitty sermon when God walks into the room. I will always stan the God!Cas that says, “I am utterly indifferent to sexual orientation.” I mean, God!Cas is completely out of control, but just like our Cas, he was trying to do his best in a world that’s far too easy to do your worst.

Cas kills the minister and then hears a whisper of his name. He stumbles but walks out of the church.

Sam’s in the basement getting some tools when he starts to have visions of Hell. Bobby finds him.

There are news reports that 200 different religious leaders are dead in an “act of God.” One eyewitness reports: “We all saw him. No beard. No robe. He was young, and sexy.” WHooEE. (Sidenote: Chuck has a beard and a robe. Lol.) The Ku Klux Klan is forced to disband. New Age motivational speakers: Gone. I mean, God!Cas, bby, these two are not the same. Sam thinks they should try talking to Cas again. Dean has closed that door.

Cas healed leprosy? Bless the God that overrides pharmaceutical companies and their greed for profit.

Cas finds Crowley hiding out in a trailer park.

He tells Crowley that he will remain King of Hell but Cas will control where the souls go. Crowley has no say in the situation so he graciously accepts.

Sam is up late reading when he has a nightmare vision of getting choked by a chain. He wakes and calls for Dean and Bobby.

They’re busy in the shed with Baby and the 5000th beer of the episode. Also, Dean’s wearing his cute blue jumper and why can’t they bring that back?

They discuss Sam. Sam overhears their conversation. Sam and Bobby really want to find something to get to Cas. Dean does not want to poke that bear. Dean does suggest summoning Crowley.

They want a spell to bind Death.

Cas is out and about healing true believers while he is deteriorating.

Then he opens his shirt (YAY!) only to reveal a roiling belly full of something that wants out (NAY!).

Bobby gets a Fedex from Crowley: The binding spell for Death. They have a lot of the ingredients but they still need “an act of God, crystallized.” Bobby found something at a house about 9 hours away.

That night after some quick thinking on Dean’s part, (“Excuse me, do you have any Grey Poupon?”), they head inside the house to steal their act of God.

The residents of the house interrupt their burglary (they keep the fulgurite in an actual glass case smh). Dean turns around to see a shotgun pointed at him and has ZERO concerns. In two shakes of a lamb’s tail he has the homeowners trussed up. After a polite introduction, they begin preparing for the ritual. Sam and Bobby work on spell ingredients while Dean does the real heavy lifting and carefully arranges a bag of greasy takeout and a soda on a side table.

The ritual begins. The building shakes. “Um, hello? Death?” Dean peers around nervously and comes face to face with newly bound Death.

Dean immediately fetches the bag of greasy food - the best fried pickle chips around! Hey, Death, if you won’t eat those please pass ‘em over here.

“This is about Sam’s hallucinations, I assume?” Dean’s jaw drops down the ground. WHAT hallucinations, Sam? I can’t believe you are keeping something from your brother!

Dean files this new piece of information away and they get back on track. They need Death to kill God. Because “we said so and we’re the boss of you.” Dean. Honey.

Our poor Dean-tastrophe gets saved from himself by the appearance of Our Lord and Hot Guy on a Tortilla, Castiel himself. Death is utterly unimpressed.

“You look awfully like a mutated angel to me,” Death snarks, and informs Cas that he’s due to explode soon. In addition to a major overload of souls, Cas has also swallowed Leviathan - ancient hungry monsters that predate angels. They’ve been locked away in Purgatory for time out of mind, but now they’re just a step away from a delicious new world and their doorway is Cas’s gut.

Cas brushes away this concern.

“Where is he?” Cas asks Death about God!God. “I did a service taking his place.” Oh honey no.

Dean quickly gets tired of the Death versus Castiel snark-off and orders Death to “kill ‘im now.”

Death lifts his hand with grim amusement to smite Cas, when Cas snaps his fingers and frees Death. Uh. Wherps. Death strolls over to the pickle chips, reassures the frightened homeowners, and Castiel flaps away to…

A political campaign headquarters. Cas heads in to kill the senator running for re-election who has caused “poverty and despair in God’s name.” His stern facade cracks and he starts to laugh wildly. Uh. Oh no.

Death berates Dean for not preventing Castiel’s catastrophic god complex. He warned him, after all! About the souls! It wasn’t a cryptic clue at all! “Maybe you should find somebody better to tip off,” Dean suggests with rising ire.

Death suggests that his own time is better spent on another planet. At the time, I pictured Death swimming with our tentacled interstellar friends in a sea of stars but now I like to think Death planned a jaunt to a parallel world to talk to jetsetting Dean and Sam instead.

Sam tries to smooth it over and asks for a smidge of help. Death tells them that if Cas returns it all to Purgatory, that will be enough to save their world. He arranges for another eclipse as well to help them build another door. Finally, he warns Dean about ever trying to bind him again and compliments him on the pickle chips.

Cas wakes up. He’s covered in blood, lying in a pool of blood, and he’s surrounded by...the dead bodies of the political campaign workers. Cas killed everyone, and he killed them bloody. Viciously.

Back at Bobby’s, Dean has his boots kicked up on the table with a drink in hand. Sam tries to rally him to fight to get Cas back from the brink. Dean isn’t buying it - not from the guy who’s been hiding his hallucinations from everyone else. (Okay, but pot kettle black, Dean Bean.)

“It’s under control,” Sam insists. Dean would still rather escape into a life of porn and alcohol binging. He then finds news footage of the campaign office and sees the demented smile on Cas’s face. Erm. Not good.

Sam doesn’t give up, though! In the junkyard, he prays to Cas to let them help him. Back inside with Dean, Sam’s ready to sink into a chair and give up when Cas appears.

He looks...rough.

Cas asks for help. He talks Dean and Sam through setting up the ritual while he slumps on the floor. “I feel regret,” he tells Dean, wishing that he were strong enough to fix Sam’s wall before he dies. Dean’s not ready to hand out any hugs. BUT I AM.

Sam’s off getting blood for the ritual when he runs into an old face. Lucifer confronts him and tells Sam that he’s still trapped in the cage with two archangels and has been hallucinating everything since. “This is my best torture yet. Make you believe that you’re free and then yank the wool off of your eyes.” Yeesh, that’s clearly a move Lucifer would’ve learned from Michael. Who learned it from Chuck, right?

Dean heads off to find Sam and discovers a jar of blood in the hallway...and no Sam. Pressed for time, he rushes back to paint the sigil on the wall. They prop Cas up and start the spell. “I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas gets out just before the spell ignites.

The wall rips away and then light blasts out of Castiel.

Mood, amirite?

Cas lies on the floor, unresponsive. He’s cold and not breathing. He’s DEAD, JIM! “Damn it,” Dean mutters as sorrow steals over his features.

And then Cas blinks awake. And insta-heals! He sits up, blinking. “That was unpleasant.” Cas has his usual half bewildered half sorrowful expression. He swears that he’ll redeem himself to Dean, and Dean seems at least halfway receptive to that plan! He won’t push him away!

Except...Cas suddenly pushes Dean and Bobby away. He crumples in on himself and shouts that they’ve held on! The leviathans! In a moment, any trace of Cas is gone as Leviathan!Cas grins maniacally and tosses Dean across the room.

“This is going to be so much fun,” Cas says...and knowing how it ends up we agree! Pining, baby. Pining!

These Quotes are the Monster Under Your Bed:

What a brave little ant you are

Miracles, mass visions, trenchcoat on a tortilla? I don't know what I'm lookin' for

I am utterly indifferent to sexual orientation

We all saw him. No beard, no robe. He was young...and...and sexy. He had a raincoat

Who feels like hog tying death tonight?

You know how I'm gonna deal? I'm gonna stuff my pie-hole, I'm gonna drink, and I'm gonna watch some Asian cartoon porn and act like the world's about to explode because it is

I'm gonna find some way to redeem myself to you

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn rewatch #spn 7x01 #meet the new boss #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #bobby singer #death #crowley #supernatural season 7

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groriatrevi10xx · 4 years

Text

****Arma****

-Relación/Relationship-

"Neko-Player" {Familia/Family} "Mi hijo es muy lindo.../My son is very cute..."

"Azúarc" {Familia/Family} "El hermano mayor.../The older brother..."

"Aluz" {Familia/Family} "Hermano del Medio... Es adorable.../Brother of the Middle... he's adorable..."

"Nomula" {Amiga/Friend} "Mi guerrero más fiel, mi caballero invencible.../My most faithful Warrior, my invincible knight..."

"Lea" {Confiable/Trustworthy} "Ella es la mejor sirvienta que tengo.../She is the best maid I have..."

"Catasto" {Tensión/Tension} "Sus comidas son deliciosas... Un gran Chef, pero todavía espero su muerte.../His meals are delicious... A great Chef, but I still await his death..."

"Angelica" {Familia Adoptiva/Adoptive Family} "Mi sobrina favorita.../My favorite niece..."

"Cali" {Familia Adoptiva/Adoptive Family} "Si eres muy patética Hermana.../If you are very pathetic Sister..."

"Metra" {Nada/Nothing} "Entiendo tu dolor... Yo también perdí a un hijo.../I understand your pain... I also lost a Son..."

"Frem" {Tensión/Tension} "Una Chef estúpida, es inútil.../A stupid Chef, she is useless..."

"Tilo" {Confiable/Trustworthy} "Me pregunto si es consciente de que ama a una loca.../I wonder if he is aware that he loves a madwoman..."

"May" {Nada/Nothing} "Un cangrejo.../A crab..."

"Mref" {Confiable/Trustworthy} "Tienes un corazón muy dulce Mref, muy dulce.../You have a very sweet heart Mref, very sweet..."

"Coco" {Confiable/Trustworthy} "Siempre tan loca, me gusta eso.../Always so crazy, I like that..."

"Tod" {Nada/Nothing} "Sé que está escondiendo algo.../I know he's hiding something..."

"Tard" {Tensión/Tension} "Tan pequeño y tan valiente.../So small and so brave..."

"Osca" {Nada/Nothing} "Sus vestidos son los más conocidos en todo el Mundo Oscuro.../Her dresses are the best known throughout the Dark World..."

"Ilik" {Confiable/Trustworthy} "Siempre fuiste la gemela buena.../You were always the good twin..."

"Say" {Tensión/Tension} "Todo el mundo sabe que quieres ser como tu primo, por eso te peinas como él.../Everyone knows that you want to be like your Cousin, that's why you style your hair like him..."

"Carlota" {Nada/Nothing} "Huele a pescado podrido.../It smells like rotten fish..."

"Dudu" {Nada/Nothing} "Muy colorida.../Very colorful..."

"Kili" {Nada/Nothing} "Siempre la gemela mala... El perro fiel de Cali.../Always the bad twin ... The faithful dog of Cali..."

"Tulia" {Nada/Nothing} "Siempre está durmiendo.../He's always sleeping..."

"Mozuy" {Nada/Nothing} "Sé que perdió el ojo por luchar contra un pez globo... Lo sé, es ridículo.../I know he lost his eye from fighting a puffer fish... I know, it's ridiculous..."

"Loyota" {Confiable/Trustworthy} "También tengo 9 colas.../I also have 9 tails..."

"Mapin" {Tensión/Tension} "Creyendo siempre en los chismes.../Always believing in gossip..."

"Morta" {Confiable/Trustworthy} "Es una gran doctora, pero tiende a ponerse muy nerviosa cuando trata a un paciente.../She is a great doctor, but she tends to get very nervous when she is treating a patient..."

"Pinam" {Nada/Nothing} "Su estilo para lograr sus sueños es sangriento... Me gusta ese estilo.../His style to achieve his dreams is bloody... I like that style..."

"Duremu" {Confiable/Trustworthy} "Una gran mensajera, sé cuándo está durmiendo y cuándo no.../A great Messenger, I know when she's sleeping and when she's not..."

"Arleta" {Nada/Nothing} "Siempre en el cementerio.../Always in the Cemetery..."

"Dialo" {Nada/Nothing} "Como su hermana, siempre en el Cementerio.../Like her sister, always in the Cemetery..."

"Rot" {Nada/Nothing} "¿Diablo?... No se parece en nada a un Diablo.../Devil?... He looks nothing like a Devil..."

"Conde" {Amigo/Friend} "Solemos jugar a las cartas... Pero siempre pierde, también es un mal perdedor.../We usually play cards... But he always loses, he is also a bad loser..."

"Ret" {Nada/Nothing} "El Universo está lleno de idiotas, pero este es el más idiota de todo el universo.../The Universe is full of idiots, but this is the most idiotic in the entire universe..."

"Night" {¿Amigo?/Friend?} "Después de todo, sigue siendo alguien importante para mí.../After all, he's still someone important to me..."

"Nai" {Nada/Nothing} "Muy pronto estará muerto.../Very soon he will be dead..."

"Wuly Arpale" {Entretenimiento/Entertainment} "Wuly es graciosa, sus tonterías me divierten... Es mejor para ella que me siga divirtiendo... Porque si me aburro, no le gustará lo que pase después.../Wuly is funny, her nonsense amuses me... It's better for her that I keep having fun... Because if I get bored, she won't like what happens next..."

"Ojus" {Tensión/Tension} "Todo lo que sube debe caer Ojus.../Everything that goes up must fall Ojus..."

"Virus" {Nada/Nothing} "Una vez fuiste imparable ... Ahora eres solo una mosca pequeña e inútil en este mundo.../Once you were unstoppable... Now you are just a small and useless fly in this World..."

"GrosMoon" {Familia/Family} "Mi hijo.../My son..."

"Ojo" {Confiable/Trustworthy} "Sé que su sonrisa es falsa, sé que está triste.../I know her smile is fake, I know she's sad..."

"Groria" {Amiga/Friend} "Una gran amiga y una diosa muy poderosa.../A great friend and a very powerful Goddess..."

"Daniela" {Confiable/Trustworthy} "Es muy ágil.../It is very agile..."

"Juan" {Confiable/Trustworthy} "Es alguien muy inteligente y se enoja fácilmente... Una pulga pequeña con gran carácter.../He is someone very intelligent and gets angry easily... A little flea with great character..."

------

-↓↓↓Personas que hacen que Arma sienta sentimientos↓↓↓-

-↓↓↓People who make Arma's feel feelings↓↓↓-

1. Neko-Player....

2. Aluz...

3. Azúarc...

4. Nomula...

5. Angelica...

6. Conde...

7. Groria...

8. Night...

------

G: Eso sería todo por ahora.../That would be it for now...

------

Hello Conde, Neko-Player y Conde son de {Hello Conde, Neko-Player and Conde are from}: @vanetheglitchfox

Mundo Oscuro y todos los demás personajes {Dark World and all the other characters}: Son míos... {They are mine...

#groriatrevi10 #mio #vanetheglitchfox #hello conde #groria la bruja de la luz y la oscuridad #arma #arma la bruja #bruja #reina #relacion #nota #Mundo Oscuro

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excorcismic · 4 years

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— MASQUERADE ! PAPER FACES ON PARADE !

MASQUERADE ! HIDE YOUR FACE SO THE WORLD WILL NEVER FIND YOU !! halloween costumes 2020.

❛ SEKAAAAI de , ichiban ohime-sama !! mou , ikiba ga nai wa kono koi no netsuryou . AHHHHH !!! ❜ — a black pleated polo , donned with a matching black skirt with teal tipping at the hem . misa’s taken as well to replicating the virtual idol’s teal tie , and modifying a megaphone she bought with the ‘ love is war ’ insignia upon it . and of course , what is she without a wig replicating the iconic teal pigtails ?? ( she also , being exactly who she is , has brought an additional pink dress & princess tiara just in case she wishes to swap from love is war to world is mine . )

❛ there’s a SHE - WOLF in your closet ; open up & set her free . ❜ — it’s not too much ; a simple pair of jeans , with a leather belt that has a wolf tail connected towards it . a white tank underneath red flannel , covered by a leather corset of sorts with multiple buckles . topped off by appropriate makeup , wolf ears , and a red , hooded cloak that shouts out to little red riding hood , zelda’s costume is the perfect sapphic werewolf for anyone to see .

❛ and i swear there’s a ghost on this island , and his hands are covered in blood . ❜ — typical PUNK attire : ripped jeans , a leather jacket with multiple pins & zippers . biker gloves & piercings in the ears he’s thankfully not allowed to close up , the only things that point to angel are the white cross hanging from his neck , the glittering halo , and false angel wings . angels are beings of good , and good is in the rebel youth , yes ??

❛ all rise , ting ting ! like glitter and gold . . ❜ — a red wine-shaded sheet has been made into its own tunic , a metal false bronze belt hanging at his waist . he has a few golden chains and bracelets , has covered his hands and neck and cheeks in body glitter of gold & plum . with a laurel upon his crown , items of an empty wine bottle and plastic grapes , he dons a pair of sunglasses as well to align with modern portrayals of the party god . . . . he can’t really tell you why he picked dionysus , except that he thinks he’s neat .

#dhq.event #dhq.task #FINALLY .#FUCKING FINALLY .#alcohol tw

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quickspinner · 4 years

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Hello and Goodbye

One more dragon fic for the day! This one comes right after The Lizard and the Pearl and was inspired by it. Thanks so much for all your good wishes, I’m having a great day so far! I meant to post something about every two hours today but it took me a little longer to finish this one (and I’m afraid it suffered for being rushed, but that’s the way it goes sometimes), so in about an hour the first chapter of my new project will go up (and it’s not dragon-related) so keep an eye out!

He was born by the sea, lapped by its waves as he struggled from his shell. Even before that, he knew music. The crooning song of his mother, softened by the embrace of the water, and the more guttural, rumbling song of his father, singing love and loneliness from the heights.

He pushed free, tumbled from the egg, and landed on his nose in a puddle of salt water. He reared back and shook himself, and sneezed. He looked up, and up, and knew his mother, looming over him as she curled around the nest, crooning encouragement and welcome to him and his siblings.

Moments later, he felt the shadow of his father pass overhead, and knew him as well, felt a tug deep inside himself that whispered love and welcome and fierce protection. His mother’s head snapped up and she snarled and he was not sure why. He belonged to his father as surely as he belonged to his mother; he felt them both in what he would learn to call his heart.

Mother lowered her head and nuzzled him, leaving a smear of sea slime on his dry scales. “Luka,” she crooned to him. “Luka, my son.”

Luka. He heard his name and he knew it, and chirped back a meep that was not a word but that still meant Mama, and nuzzled her back. Luka turned and looked curiously at the other two eggs in the nest with him, both cracked but neither yet broken.

The shadow passed over again, and Mother’s head snapped up once more, her crest spreading to shield him from view. He tried to look around her, and chirped again, louder. Papa.

Overhead, Father gave a deep booming roar that Luka felt down to his bones. HIs shiver was not fear, however. He had no fear of Father.

Mother did. She reared her head back and screamed a challenge, and Father’s shadow faded with a mournful cry.

Luka looked again at the other eggs. He could hear his clutchmates inside. He went to one and reared back, placing his front feet on the shell, scrabbling at the cracks with his tiny claws, but Mother lowered her head and nosed him away. “Nay, little one. They must find their way to the world on their own.” Luka peeped distress, and Mother carefully took him between her teeth. He obediently went limp, and she lifted him out of the nest and deposited him on the sand of the beach. “Stay near, now,” Mother told him, her head swinging up to look at the sky. She extended one long wing fin in an arc around him, and turned her attention back to encouraging the young ones that had not yet entered the world. Luka poked around, drawn immediately to a tantalizing scent around the base of the nest. He nosed a coin out of the sand there, smelling that lovely scent and also the scent of Father. He peeped, scooping up the coin in his little jaws, feeling the taste of gold on his tongue for the first time. He rolled it around in his mouth, though he felt no desire to eat it. He dropped it on the sand at his feet, purred and pranced for a moment, and then inspected the next until he found a good place to wedge his prize in safely. He continued to explore around the bottom of the nest and found a few other things left there by Father. Luka wedged it all into his little nook and then curled up with his chin on the lovely warm gold, and settled in for a nap.

Luka hissed and nipped when his mother tried to scoop him up and put him back in the nest, and she chuckled as she closed her jaws gently around him. Grudgingly, he went limp and let her put him back in the nest. “No fear, little one,” she told him after she put him down. “I’ll mind your treasures.” Satisfied, Luka relaxed and shook himself and went to greet his siblings. No sooner had he laid eyes on them than he knew he was different. They were lithe and long like Mother, their hides mottled with blue and purple but pale compared to his dark blue-black scales. He was shorter, heavier, his body compact. Their wings were long but shallow where his were broad and deep.

But the blue eyes that blinked at him curiously were familiar, and he felt the same tug in his heart that told him they were family, so he rubbed noses happily, and tried not to crush them in their play tussles as they both ganged up to bowl him tail over claw.

Despite his differences Luka only knew love from his family as time passed. He played in the shallows of the lagoon while his sister Leika and brother Kinka explored in the deeper water, bringing back shiny things they found rooting in the sand; pretty enough, when they would let Luka inspect them, but not of the same worth as his precious coin. At first Mother had helped him hollow out a corner of the nest, the safest place he knew, for his little treasures and precious coin. Every night he curled on top of his tiny hoard to sleep, his siblings plopped on top of him. However, time passed, and they all grew, and they all began seeking out their own places to sleep at night; Leika and Kinka in the water, and Luka on the rocky part of the shore. He relocated his treasures there and slept on them every night, making sure they were well hidden before he left his little den in the morning. He spent at least part of the day investigating the beach, rooting through the sand and sniffing around the edge of the forest, to see if Father had left him any gifts.

This was how he knew his father loved him, though he kept to the heights and never came down to the beach while he could be seen. There were things about this that Luka didn’t understand, but the tug in his heart and the treasures Father left him told him that he was loved.

Mother didn’t give gifts, but she taught him many things, and so he knew she loved him too. Sometimes she wrapped him up in her long body and crooned over him, a sad song that Luka didn’t quite get, and nuzzled and groomed him, and held him tighter than he really liked. He was covered with slime when she released him, but she didn’t mind.

“Do you ever wonder,” he asked Leika one day, “Why Father never comes down here?”

“No,” Leika snorted from where she was lounging in the shallows, and she took in a gulp of water and squirted him in the face.

Luka snorted and shook his head, and then slammed one wing into the water, sending a wave of water towards his sister, following it up with a burst of fire safely over her head, just close enough for the heat to make her cringe. “No fair,” she whined, and Luka laughed.

He watched, though, as father stood guard over them from the heights.

“Luka,” Mother called in alarm. “Get down from there, ye fool child!”

Luka bent his long neck backwards to look at her with a sigh. “I’m fine, Ma,” he yelled back, and had to duck as his mother’s water cannon hit the rocks beside him.

“Down!” she bellowed, and Luka sighed, rolling his eyes.

He wasn’t thinking when he did it. He was thinking about how annoyed he was and how he’d nearly reached the top of this pile. He was definitely not thinking of launching himself off the rock wall he was clinging to, twisting his body in midair, and snapping his wings out, nor the precise angle at which he would need to hold them to bring him over the lagoon to glide down on the beach.

It all happened so fast he didn’t register his mother’s terrified screech until he was nearly at the beach, and his landing in the sand was...inelegant to say the least.

Luka rolled to his feet, shaking the sand from his crest and flicking his forked tongue in distaste at the grit in his mouth, when a wave washed over him, knocking him off his feet and back face first into the sand. He forgot about that though has his neck was soon his mother’s jaw and she was shaking him violently—not enough to hurt, but enough to let him know he had scared the salt out of her.

“Idiot,” she grumbled around her clamped jaws as he went obediently limp. “Little—argh.” She dropped him and raised her head, bellowing up at he cliffs. “Did ye see that, ye overgrown lizard?”

“I saw, Pearl,” the laughing reply came down, and Luka looked up, wide eyed, to see his father leap from a shadow in one of the crags and come to soar over them. “Well done, my boy!”

“Don’t push your luck, Jagged,” Mother snapped up at him, and the big sky dragon just laughed, soaring back up to the cliffs.

It took some time and a lot of embarrassing practice (practice that set his water-bound siblings laughing at him) before he finally flapped his way up the cliffs where his father was waiting. Father chuckled as the young dragon slid to a precarious landing on the rock slab where he was waiting. “Well, well. Finally came to visit the old man?”

Luka shrank into himself a little, suddenly feeling a little shy, but Father got up and met him with a friendly headbutt and nuzzle. “Been waiting to meet you, son.”

Luka relaxed and headbutted him back. “Same.”

“Luka!” came the familiar, exasperated call from the sea below.

“You’re worrying your Ma,” Father said, shouldering Luka back to the edge of the platform. “Go on now. We’ll have time later, I promise. You should spend as much time with your Ma as you can, while you can.”

Luka didn’t really understand, but he nuzzled father and turned to go. He balked a little at the height as he approached the ledge, but Father just chuckled.

“Go on now. No need to fear the sky. Your body knows what to do. Just leap, and trust it.”

He visited his father regularly from then on. At first, he only stayed a short time before his mother got worried and began anxiously calling for him, but as time went on, she seemed to relax, and he spent more and more time with his father.

Luka could feel the change in himself as well as in his clutchmates. The more he looked to the sky, the more they looked to the sea, and his mother began to seem distressed.

Finally, the day came when his father came down from the heights to land on the beach, a respectable distance from the water.

“Anarka,” he rumbled in his booming voice. “You know it’s time. You need to go.”

“Don’t tell me what I need to do,” Mother snarled, curling her wingfins protectively in front of Leika and Kinka at her sides. Luka had gone forward to greet his father but stopped at his mother’s hiss.

“You can’t take him,” Father said, and there were many feelings in it that Luka could not understand. “Look at him, Anarka. He can’t follow you, and even if you find a way to take him, he’ll pine. He needs his family. He needs the sky, and you can’t give it to him, Pearl.”

“I am his family,” Mother shot back sulkily, and there was silence for a moment before she said. “But ye are right, lizard. Fate meant this one for ye. Perhaps to ease yer heart after we go. Luka.”

Luka turned, and went back to his mother, wading into the shallows. She lowered her head and pressed it to his. “I’ve done all I can for ye, lad. It’s time for me and yer brother and sister to return to the sea, but ye were not made for our life. Ye must go with your Da and let him teach ya the ways of yer kind. I will always love ye, my son, but this is how it must be.”

“I understand,” sighed Luka. He nuzzled his mother one last time, and then each of his siblings in turn. Then he went back slowly up onto the beach to stand with his father.

“Goodbye, lizard,” Mother said.

“Until next time, Pearl,” Father chuckled, and ducked the stream of water she sent at him. “All right, I’m going, I’m going. Come on, Luka.”

He opened his great gold wings, and Luka did the same, following him up onto the cliffs. From there, they watched his mother and clutchmates strike out of the lagoon into the open ocean, all three of them leaping with eager excitement.

“She will always be your Ma,” Father told him. “But she must be what she is, as we must be what we are. We can’t change her, nor can we go against our own nature. But we’ll see her again, no fear. You can feel it, can’t you? In here.” He shoved his head against Luka’s chest.

Luka nodded slowly.

“She feels it too, though not as strong as we do. But she’ll know, if you need her, and she’ll come. Now, come on. It’s time you learned to hunt proper meat. We’ll put a bit more meat on your bones and stamina in your wings, and then I’ll take you to see the world.”

Luka spared one more look out to sea, but he couldn’t see the rest of his family anymore. He felt them though, in his heart, and he was content.

Jagged did show him the world, but Luka never acquired the taste for it that his father did. He preferred to linger near the sea, and once he was grown, he bid farewell to his father and struck out for his own place. It was a long time before he returned to the island of his birth. It surprised him, when he felt his father’s call, but he sealed up his treasures and obeyed, following the tug and feeling something new alongside it.

He didn’t understand the new pull, until he angled down to land in his father’s crag and found him with a small, sleek black dragon with flashes of purple in her scales and Jagged’s lightning in her eyes.

“Luka,” Jagged greeted him, prancing and bubbling over with enthusiasm. “Come and meet your sister. This is Juleka.”

“Juleka,” Luka said, lowering his head to look at her. “I’m glad to meet you.” He bent forward to bump his head along hers, but she grunted and Luka jerked his head back with a startled snort as a spark zapped him right in the nose.

“She’s adorable,” he said dryly, sitting back on his haunches as Jagged laughed uproariously.

#quickspins #the sky and the sea #across all realms #luka couffaine #dragon!luka #papa stone #jagged!dragon #anarka!dragon #fantasy au #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #birthday big bang

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