#answers this a million years late

[deathfavor]

@yeonban said: “  you don’t have to deal with this alone.  ” shalnark states, finally chancing on chrollo's spot after purposefully searching for him, well aware of the other's habits. the death of a leg always leaves a bitter taste in the spider's mouth, but the death of one of the original members cannot compare to what they've become used to over the years. the sixth leg steps closer then, glancing at the leader's face to assess the situation, and decides to sit down next to him. shalnark looks off into the distance instead of at the other however, allowing the head some privacy while offering his company and support through a hand gently raised to pat twice, then rest on chrollo's back. “  it’s okay if you need to cry. it’s just me. let it out.  ” (tbh this can go for uvo's or paku's death or even both, so it's up to u which they're talking about!)

The head can be elusive to find at the best of times when not summoning a meeting, but if Chrollo truly wished to disappear from the world or those who might seek him out, he would not be found. ( After all, his full abilities were a secret to all sans himself - not out of lack of trust but mainly lack of inquiry and its everchanging nature. ) He doesn't turn his gaze away from where he sits on the rooftop, overlooking the oncoming clouds with an inscrutable expression. The wind has begun to pick up, and Chrollo's appearance falls half between that of the phantom troupe leader, and half that of Chrollo the enigma. Some of it is remains slicked back, but it has loosened to something more relaxed, black wisps fluttering free in the increasing wind. It is hard to say whether it is grief that darkens his eyes, or merely the fading of light when clouds reach out. ( And yet, those things are not so different. For grief to thrive, light must retreat. )

They sit in silence, and were it not for the small breaths and occasional blinks, they might be mistaken for limestone statues carved for the ancient building. His lips quiver almost imperceptivity when he feels the pat against his shoulders. The words had not made a wound, but the act of a gentle touch makes something quiver in his chest. Like glass, he feels hard to scratch with words yet the touch feels like it could shatter him in its care. Shalnark's hand lingers, painful in its warmth as it rests against him.

You don't have to deal with this alone and It's just me. But there's nothing just about it.

Finally Chrollo leans to the side and tears his eyes away so his forehead can rest against Shalnark's shoulder. For a moment, he does nothing. He says nothing. And then there's a silent tremble under Shalnark's touch, a shake of shoulders and stutter of breath that catches in his throat. " I know. " Chrollo admits, a quiet rooftop admission that he makes to the only one whose found him. He knows that even as the head, the troupe would understand. If it were himself, he would not weep. But for those dear that were lost.

The worst part is none of them know where one leg has fallen.

Chrollo has missed both deaths. Even if one had been unnecessary, acting against expectation, the loss is painful all the same. In the end, it had been a task for the legs to make - not the head when it was snared.

Quietly, a sob eases out from where it has sat trapped in his chest for far too long. Death was something they all knew could and would one day come for them. That knowledge did not make loss any easier when it struck. Especially when it was the originals, when it was someone who had known him long before Chrollo had become the man he was today. He weeps, for himself and for others like Jesus for Lazarus, quiet and pained. The spider will have to move forward as it always does, but Chrollo never forgets those who have fallen - and for that they will always remain a part of the Troupe. That is not a death they shall face - there wil be no death of memory so long as they breathe.

He does not keep track of the time that is lost to the grief. It is not terribly long for the rain has yet to reach them. But it is long enough. Chrollo lets his eyes rest for a minute longer as he recomposes himself. " Thank you, Shalnark. " His voice is stronger now despite the rough edge that crying had given it. He lifts his head off his shoulder, grey eyes lighter than before when he gives a thin smile as delicate yet sturdy as a thread of spidersilk. He turns his head a bit after a moment. " I think I needed to hear that. " Even if Chrollo had already known that truth, the simple act of sharing the moment let doors unlock that had before stayed sealed.

[gummywyrmtrainer]

From the PWT Committee, you receive a sash bearing the colors and markings of your home region. On the shoulder, the familiar symbol of the Pokemon League, and a patch representing your competitive bracket.

But pinned into the sash is also a small polished stone that shimmers between teal, blue, and purple, all around a shape at the center that appears to be a twisted double helix. 

A Mega Stone. 

This is part of your uniform. A letter of assurance from the League states that you’ll be able to use this in the confines of the Stadium, that the Mega Stone is a tool that will allow you to Mega Evolve any of your Pokemon…

Only in Saffron Stadium. 

The choice belongs to you. Choose wisely.

Tanis proudly dons the silken sash, the ruby and sapphire colors shimmering bright against her clothes. Oh yes.

This will do.

This will do nicely.

Megastone in hand, she eyeballs her beloved Flygon, who is making friends with some other pokemon nearby.

"Oi, Dirtdemon!" Eh? Dusty's head whipped around, staring at his trainer curiously. She lifted the stone for him to see.

"Wanna visit the stadium real quick for an experiment?" A grin spreads on the Flygon's face, eyes glittering with excitement. Please oh please, he'd love that.

[vinillain]

your art feels like home <3

Thank you! I’m often all over the place and don’t usually check my messages but I really appreciate it 😭 I like that warm feeling of family. Or comfort from those who care about you even if they don’t understand your situation. Sibling dynamics etc have always been my favorite trope in any media.

Here is a comfort wip of the sibs 🫶😔

[lullaebies]

If you are still taking requests, my darling, how about a blurb of Daeron coming to KL in the days before Jaehaerys' funeral and reuniting with his siblings or momma? xoxo johannawesterling. 😘

“Daeron,” his mother's voice was the first one that welcomed him in that lonely hall. The warm brown of her eyes sad, as always sad— he hated seeing it as a child, and hated seeing it now. Alicent rushed over to him to envelop him in an embrace. “My sweet boy.”

Grandsire was the one who wrote Daeron of the news. He said his Alicent’s temperament was fickle with grief, caring for Helaena’s babes. Daeron always knew his mother would hug him upon his return, but he felt a babe himself cradled in her arms. 

“Mother, I missed you,” he held her back, feeling his own throat dry. Her hunched frame, her head on on his shoulder in defeat; his brother’s coronation should’ve given her the opportunity to find joy in a respectable posture, not a reason to wither. He hears some shout from within the hall in front of him, followed by another by a different voice, both filled with fire. “Are those…?”

“Aegon and Aemond,” Alicent answers, lifting her head. “It’s been a difficult time, and yelling is all they could do.”

Daeron doubted it. He saw the hanged people by the Tower of the Hand. No, his brothers are all flames searching to consume all, as they always were. “And Helaena?” he asked. His sister has always been calm in the midst of fury, but as things are…

“They are by her door. She has not come out of her room since…” Alicent said painfully. 

Since sweet Jaehaerys had died. The funeral was due in a few days. He came for it; he has not been here for the birth of his nephew, he missed his years in this world, but he would not miss the boy’s departure from it too. But if his mother couldn’t bear to come… No. Helaena would never forgive herself if she did not come. He knew his sister, and he knew it to be true. If his brothers’ shouts were anything to go by, they were in a similar place.

Seven hells, he was too. After all this time, returning when it was all too late to help… How could he forgive himself?

Daeron always wanted to come back home in triumph.

It was a dream of his, ever since his mother sent him to squire with Lord Ormund. To come back a knight of the order, robust and reliable for his sister and mother to be proud of and his brothers to trust in. He wanted his nephews and niece to imagine him in their heads as an uncle they could count on, to become a figure his family whole could believe in.

He was lost, away from his family for too long, but Daeron knew he can’t leave his siblings alone now. He kissed his mother’s cheek, and went ahead towards his brothers.

“After all these years, you think you can preach to me about restraint?” Aemond’s eye flashed like a dagger. He grew much taller, taller than their older brother. Aegon, on the other hand, had not grown much since their teens, and he had been hunched as it is. With a pale face, bloodshot eyes and clenched fists he had not seemed any less fiery.

“When it is all your fault, you cunt? Yes I can.” Aegon replies venomously.

When they were young, Daeron was always lost when they fought. He could rise up together with them against Rhaenyra’s boys, but when they trifled with one another, he always found himself a bystander, staying by Helaena until the storm calmed. Alas, Helaena was in the room in front of them, and from within he heard soft sobs. His mother steps forward to intervene between them, but Daeron stops her, and walks to them instead.

Aemond noticed him first, halting at his sight. Aegon stepped toward Aemond, as if to yell at him some more, but Daeron brought a hand to hold his shoulder. Aegon nearly snapped his shoulder towards him to hit him, but Daeron stopped his hand too.

“Brothers,” he called them, his hold on Aegon’s wrist growing looser. “Stop it.”

Something in him snapped when he saw their faces closely. Aemond looked as if he had not slept a week, Aegon looked as if his blood had been running cold for a moon turn, hair a mess even if he wore a crown. They both try to pick themselves up, upon his arrival, Aemond fixing his gloves, and Aegon clearing his throat.

“You’ve grown tall, you twerp,” Aegon said, looking up to him. “It is good to see you. But don’t get involved.”

Daeron frowned. “Don’t tell me that. I’m your brother. I can talk to my brothers,” Daeron then looked at the door. “And my sister.”

Aemond shook his head. Some shame came upon his face. “She doesn’t want to see us, Daeron.”

What she didn’t want to see never mattered, though. Helaena often told him she saw strange things in her mind. When they were children, when she sent letters, it was often all the same. Sometimes, those were things she did not want to see at all. She managed through it all; she was the bravest, even when she cried waking up from a dream. She needed to see them, instead of further falling into loneliness.

“So we leave her to the darkness of her room instead of showing her she is not alone?” 

“I don’t know how to convince her out, Daeron. I tried,” Aegon said. “Aemond tried. Mother tried. Grandsire tried. Jaehaera and Maelor..” he trailed off. 

Daeron looked at the door again. His sister was never stupid, she knew they were outside. He knew she was listening, too. If she heard them, she only heard strife and more frustration, things she had likely enough of within her. Whenever Daeron played with Lord Ormund’s children, it was always similar with his one daughter, Bethany; if her brothers quarrelled and brawled while she was upset, she would lock herself in her rooms until she felt safe to get out. She wouldn’t go out to thundering knocks and threatening yells, but to safety.

Daeron didn’t know if Helaena would ever feel safe again. Not after all that happened. But if anyone was to give her hope it was them. He remained steadfast in his stare against his brothers.

“When ships are lost at night, we light the Hightower’s beacon until they find their way back.”

Turning around, Daeron knocked on the door, in an odd rhythm. A rhythm Helaena taught him when he was around eight, and plagued with nightmares of plucked eyes and stormy seas. When mother could only take care of Aemond, Helaena told him she would never turn him away should he come by her door. 

“It is like the summer songs of cicadas, stuck to their trees. They sing when they know when they feel safe.”

The sobs from within the room suddenly quietened. No rustling came from within, but it was a change. He knocked on the door again. Sniffles came in response. His brothers stared at him, and for once, he met them in an equal gaze. 

Biting his lip, Aegon brought his clenched first forward to the door too. He looked at Daeron, and they knocked together. More sniffles came, but they sounded closer. Aemond seemed to be most skeptical, but with both results and a glare from Aegon, they knocked again together, all three.

It felt like forever, until they heard something being moved from behind the door. The heavy door opens only slightly, but the sniffles are suddenly all clear. The light finally shone on her; Helaena’s face was red, her eyes were glassy, her hair unkempt and her dress crumpled upon her figure, but she was there.

She saw them all, and tears fell down her cheek again. “I…”

It was not clear, amongst the three of them, who came to hug her first. All Daeron knew is that they ended in sibling embrace. She fell into sobs again in their arms, this time holding them dearly for life.

We will not let go.

[moonsugar-and-spice]

Zhao, smirking smugly: "You are without doubt the worst pirate I've ever heard of!"

Lu Da, ringed fingers raised: "But you have heard of me!"

Took way too long to get to it, but I couldn't not draw this.

[lokvadnod]

Hi there! I just found this blog and omg I've found my people lol. I just read your response to an ask requesting how one of our yautja boys would react to their human going down on them for the first time, which was incredibly hot and also hilarious, and I had to ask - do you envision the same sort of reaction from a female yautja? Because not to get too into it here in your asks unprompted - but if there's one way this gal wants to go out its with her head between Those Thighs TM

You and I are in the same boat, friend. (Says a creepy voice from the shadows as I rise from the grave with this post lol)

(My take on this with a male yautja can be found here.)

I kinda feel like a female Yautja would be a lot more calm, a lot more logical, and way more permissive from the jump. A Yautja female doesn't have to worry about an appendage being gnawed off, and she certainly doesn't have any perturbation about your oral structure, as dull and unthreatening as it looks. I don't think female-receiving oral is a big thing for Yautja, (though it's far more probable than its male counterpart) but maybe they engage in tongue action from time to time with their own species. I do, however, think that the idea of lips, blunt teeth, and a wider, much smoother tongue would interest a female yautja enough to make her want to try it from the minute the topic is raised...

Mature content below the cut

Terrifying could be a very fitting adjective for your situation for some. A less seasoned human in the fine art of romancing deadly extraterrestrials would probably have bowed out long before now, before a massive, clawed hand could find purchase on the back of your fragile, tiny head.

She's 8 and a half feet of nothing but thew and venom. More muscle than you've ever seen packed onto a curvy frame, with muscular pectorals and the nicest ass and hips you've ever seen. And it's all wrapped in a pretty package of dappled greens and browns, textured skin pulled over the planes of her body in such a right way that it isn't fair.

She's absolutely gorgeous... you know, in her own viscerally terrifying way.

Currently a grunting, growling mess, all teeth and fire-eyes as she writhes beneath you, she's even more alluring. Like a needy predator with deadly claws, she grinds just this side of too hard into your face with a rolling insistence that sparks at your need to provide and please her, wanton enough to inspire a succinct pride within you that you are the source of such a massive, intimidating galactic predator's pleasure.

"Right there." She grits through her teeth, somehow making it sound like a plea and a demand in one. Tree trunk thighs tighten around your head, careful not to pop it like a too-ripe watermelon, and she goes completely still.

Convergent evolution - if such concepts can be applied interplanetarily- is a magnificent thing. Darwin, or what dust is left of him after those centuries past, should be doing backflips in his grave...

In two beats, she's gone, mewling to the stars on the other side of the tempered window in wild bursts of feral pleasure, praying to her brutal gods in a fraternal echo of any human ever to be in her position. Every muscle, previously taut enough that it felt like you could be doing unspeakable things to a boulder, whips along the complete axis of it's motion, spasming in wild bursts of pleasure. As she comes down, panting and growling, she goes limp, only exerting enough energy to haul you up along her frame so you can rest atop her.

On your lips, linger the alien taste of her release, like something not quite familiar enough for a name or a likeness. Gently, she caresses you, tapered claws trailing up and down your back as you rise and fall in time with her massive chest.

"You..." she pants, and you're struck anew with pride at how unraveled you can get her, gruff and unmovable as she usually is. "You are quite skilled with that mouth of yours."

Compliments as such are not unheard of from her but they do fall sparingly and so you soak this one up with a grin. Those shark-like eyes that you've grown to love wander over your face, mapping the topography as if trying to discern for herself what makes your facial structure so pleasurable.

"Consider my ego stroked," you joke, and those eyes swipe up to bore into yours.

"You would like something else stroked." It's not a question, it's a statement she knows to be true and she gives you no time to answer before she rolls and she's on top of you.

Already breathless, you chuckle and bloom beneath her, body spreading under her wandering claws that you know from experience she can use so skillfully...

[lordsooga]

What would Kohga do when Sooga isn't at the hideout? I have my own theories...

YEEEAH BABY

Playing a trombone over his mask is just another one of Kohga's many talents

You know master kohga and the entire yiga clan would have killed it on vine too, btw

I submit the idea: Kohga would swim around in a pool full of bananas like scrooge mcduck

[mooseonahunt]

Idk when you changed your banner but i love it so much

I changed it earlier today! You were actually so quick to point it out agdhabbs

One of my friends sent me the picture, and I thought it was hilarious, so I made it my banner. They actually sent me the original version and then the edited one, so I’ll put both below the cut in case you wanna see them. Seeing the original first made the edited one so much funnier to me

[sunnifer]

youre expert on that owen guy

TRILLIANNNNN. U HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THIS MEANS 2 ME

[whatimdoing-here]

Boys are done with school with their half day Thursday. I'm working at their field day all day Wednesday. So I get today and tomorrow for my last quiet days before summer.

And T wipes out real bad on his bike on the way to school and was a half hour late.

[ever-winter]

@the-wayward-snowflake asked:

"You followed me here, didn't you?" -for Pantalone

Well, wasn't that a curious thing? Most people tended not to notice his presence until he'd allowed for them to do so - he did have other skills after all, he wasn't just a glorified banker - though he would admit that his best work was done behind a desk. This woman, she'd managed to catch his attention earlier, almost like a fleeting memory that pulled at the back of his mind - and the feeling had annoyed him enough to have followed her on her way home, hoping that the strange sense of curiosity would be rather easy satisfied by whatever he found out on the way. "I wasn't planning on being spotted so soon", he sighed lightly, but if there was any shame in being caught following her, he wasn't showing it, "Perhaps it would be simply quicker to ask you then. Who are you? There are very few faces that grab my attention that I forget...and I have seen you before, I just cannot recall as to where. Perhaps you may have the answer I seek?"

[crayolacolor]

Alan Dracula!!! In the last Q&A he was confirmed to be God and I need everyone to talk to me abt it

i don't remember what ask meme this was but it was probably asking me my thoughts about this character | accepting..? lol

- - -

HI. so, first of all, apologies for letting this sit in my inbox for ONE THOUSAND YEARS. no idea why i didn't eventually answer it, but oh well, i'm here to right my past wrongs!!!

so, alan dracula. I TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT THAT Q&A??? that's so incredibly funny actually. one-one wasn't kidding when he said he really broke the mold with him, huh?

i think alan dracula is one of the best side characters in the show <3 i love how he's the entire reason lake and jesse meet and become friends to begin with. i love how wacky he is. and i love that he still behaves a lot like a normal deer, lol!

very unfortunate that his cameo in book 4 was cut out ...

[gokubrain]

Do you also find it to be a pain to draw the clothing flaps on Goku's gi or am I just that bad at this lmao

drawing clothing folds is kind of my favorite part of drawing clothes but whenever i can i choose to draw dbz characters in skin tight clothing instead cuz im lazy so i get it woof

[longislandcharm]

Describe your character's voice. Do they speak with an accent? Are there certain words they use more often, or certain quirks to the way they talk (such as using filler words or mumbling)? Are they soft-spoken, or typically louder? Do they like the sound of their own voice, or is it something they try to avoid listening to when possible?

Meta: When it comes to an accent, I don't really hear one when she's in my head. I think growing up on television has made her quite aware of such a thing despite her mother not being the same. She's worked on keeping her words clear and accent free throughout her life so that people wouldn't have a hard time understanding her, something sparked by hearing so many tell her mother that it was hard to get past her heavy northern accent.

Winter is the type of person who likes hearing herself talk, yes. She's very wordy because of this. She's loud and purposeful with her words, never soft spoken unless it's something she doesn't want someone to hear but she can't resist saying it out loud anyway (which happens more often than she realizes). She definitely likes to be noticed and that is a contributing factor in the way she speaks to people.

[beps-brainrot]

HI BEP HRU?? HAVE ANOTHER FLOWERS FROM MY GARDEN <3

foxgloves :3

THANK YOU MY PRECIOUS MOOT AAAAA!! I am smooching your forehead platonically. They're so pretty uuuu the soft pink!!!

Also I've been well! I hope you have too<3<3 Pls accept this croissant I made!

[imaginaryanon]

😏 Looks like someone needs to play/watch Alan Wake II and it's NG+ 😏

i have to play the first one first 😭 a bitch (me) simply cannot walk into a game without The Context,,, but yeah it does look like i'll have to play 'em at some point. the siren song combo of "this is connected to another thing i like" + "it does look interesting" + "there's hot people in it" is. very powerful hfgjhfd