#blue lock sprite

[tastybluesprite]

I see a vision here of a lee!Isagi and ler!Bachira… 👀👀👀

Thoughts? @giggly-squiggily 👀👀👀

[nyastesticles]

Hey pookie

*does a backflip*

heyy fruitss <333 I love you pookie !!! /p

*does a frontflip*

[theglamorousferal]

Teenaged Danny and Bruce meet somehow and become friends. (Summer camp? Boarding school? Training? Gala with Vlad? Can't be a TUE au because the clones need to exist for this particular fic.)

They lose contact when Bruce drops off the map to train to be Batman.

In the meantime, Danny has ascended to the Throne of the Infinite Realms and established himself as some sort of paranormal archeologist in the living world. (It's easiest way to declare treasure from the King's Coffers to the IRS.)

After Vlad got redeemed ( l like to think after he got over himself and realized he was in love with BOTH Maddie and Jack), he turned over all his research to Danny. This includes the fragmented cores of all the Danny clones.

After an issue where Danielle was destabilizing again, they found that if they introduced another person's DNA, that she would stabilize. Sam volunteers. So Danielle is stabilized with Sam's DNA, however it ages her down so now she's her actual age, 11 at this time. Danny is 26, and ends up adopting her, she chooses the name Ellie. Ellie ends up with some of Sam's attributes, like her eyes turning more purple and her hair being easier to tame.

After some researching, it's found that the clone's cores could reform themselves if they can absorb enough healthy ectoplasm and a stable human DNA donor.

When Dan breaks out and is shoved into a clone body, he asks Valerie to be his donor, as she was the last person he had respected. He ends up at three years younger than Danielle. He prefers the name Dante. His skin is darker than it was, and his hair gains a wave to it when in human form, it's still flames when in ghost form.

The first of the failed clones to reform about 5 years later got some of Tucker's DNA. A pair of twins that have heterochromia with one piercing blue and one ocean teal eye, on opposite sides of course. They go by Kelly and Sprite. (they were the bedsheet and pixie ghosts) Somehow the genetics introduced while they were still dormant resulted in them both being girls. They appeared as 9 year-olds.

The last one took the longest to reform and when he did, he reformed as 6 years old. Obsidian used some of Wes's DNA. He got Wes's green eyes and freckles.

Danny is able to work with each of his adopted but also genetic children to harness their powers and helps them re-form their ghost halves so they can choose how they present themselves to the world instead of being locked into their original forms.

Fast forward about 9 years and the Fenton family is attending a gala at a museum that Danny is lending pieces to in Gotham. He ends up running into Bruce who is there with his gaggle of children. They end up getting lost in their conversation and are going over the different things they've been doing since they last saw each other. They end up dancing together at least once, Danny beaming and a quiet smile on Bruce's face not normally seen when he's in his Brucie persona.

Somehow the children of both of them have all found each other and are observing their respective parents closely, noting that they haven't seen their father look so besotted in a long time.

Numbers are exchanged and group chats are made. They plan to Parent Trap their fathers together.

[mooningningg]

notes, this was so fun to make especially adding more characters ty anon!

★ Roommate!Sukuna hosts a party in the house.

“This is the stupidest idea you’ve ever had,” you said flatly, eyeing the crowd gathering in your once-peaceful living room.

Sukuna cracked open a beer and leaned against the kitchen counter like a menace with arms. “Shut up. My house. My rules.”

“Our house,” you corrected.

“My name’s on the lease.”

You opened your mouth — and then Gojo physically kicked open the front door.

“THE PARTY GOD HAS ARRIVED!”

You groaned. “I’m locking myself in my room.”

“No, you’re not.” Sukuna grabbed the back of your hoodie before you could escape. “You’re gonna stand here and make sure no one breaks shit. Especially not that one—”

“Choso?” you guessed.

“No. That thing behind him.”

You looked over and saw Yuuji sprinting through the hallway with a Nerf gun, followed by Megumi, who had the calm murderous energy of a cat ready to swipe at a toddler.

Toji appeared behind them holding a case of beer. “Your kids are feral.”

Sukuna threw up a middle finger. “They’re not my fucking kids.”

“They’re kinda your responsibility,” Geto said smoothly from the couch. “Since you’re the one who invited all of us and insisted on not hiring a DJ.”

“I am the DJ,” Sukuna said, walking to the speaker and violently pressing buttons until something bass-heavy and borderline unlistenable filled the room.

“Christ,” Nanami muttered from a corner. “This is not music. This is a hate crime.”

You leaned on the fridge and whispered, “I told him to make a playlist.”

“He made one,” Nanami said. “It’s all angry gym edits and songs titled ‘murder breakfast.’”

Meanwhile, Choso had discovered your cabinet of snacks and was handing out bags of chips like a stoned camp counselor. “You want spicy or sweet?” he asked you sweetly. “I sorted them by vibe.”

Sukuna walked by, narrowed his eyes, and muttered, “Stop touching my shit.”

“It’s her shit,” Choso replied without fear.

“Yeah, Sukuna,” you echoed smugly. “My kitchen.”

He turned to you with a scowl. “Don’t push me, brat.”

Just then, Nobara stomped into the kitchen holding an empty Solo cup.

“Why is there no alcohol left?” she demanded.

“Because Gojo made a jungle juice bucket in the fucking bathtub,” Toji said, cracking open a beer.

“...He what?”

“It’s got blue Gatorade, Everclear, Sprite, and six Warheads.”

Sukuna pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to kill him.”

Gojo popped his head in like a cartoon ghost. “No murder before midnight! That’s the rule!”

“You’re the reason I have rules, you white-haired freak.”

Geto sauntered by with your Bluetooth speaker in hand. “Can I use this for my playlist? I promise it’s all R&B.”

“You touch it and I’ll cut your fingers off,” Sukuna replied calmly, sipping his beer.

“Jesus,” you said. “Why did you even invite them?”

“Because I was drunk,” Sukuna growled, glancing around the chaotic room. “And it was funny at the time.”

Someone suddenly crashed into a chair.

“I’M OKAY,” Yuuji shouted from the floor.

“I’M GONNA KILL HIM,” Sukuna shouted louder.

“You can’t kill him,” Megumi muttered from beside you, arms crossed. “He’s literally built like a golden retriever. You’d feel bad.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Bet.”

You grinned at the sight: your angry, cursed-energy-free roommate about three seconds away from strangling half the room while you just… stood there sipping punch out of a vase.

Then, as if summoned by chaos, Gojo slung an arm around your shoulders.

“So. On a scale of 1 to ‘my next therapy session,’ how’s living with Sukuna?”

You glanced at the walking red flag beside you — now trying to chase Yuuji with a spatula for sitting on his dumbbells.

“Somewhere between insanity and a sitcom,” you replied.

Sukuna stopped mid-step. “Why the fuck are you smiling?”

“Because this is the best decision you never made.”

His eye twitched. “I’m never doing this again.”

“Sure,” Geto called from the couch. “You say that now — until she asks you to host her birthday and you agree like a whipped little bitch.”

Sukuna whirled around. “Say that again, Suguru. I dare you.”

Geto smirked. “You heard me. Whipped. Soft. Domesticated.”

Sukuna lunged. Gojo dove into the hallway with a bottle of tequila. Megumi muttered something about going feral. Nobara lit a candle just because.

You stood in the middle of it all, grinning to yourself.

Yep.

Best party ever.

Taglist, @humeysaga @williamafton26 @aranisbaee @probablynotleahhhh @probablynotleahhhh. @beaniesayshi @levifiance @rinofcike @fushiguroooozzz @gojoscumslut @bellsoftheball @kunascutie.

[keraawrites]

Too cute

Summary: Armin wasn't your usual type, but he was too cute to pass up. ۶ৎ Armin x black fem reader ۶ৎ

Context: Kind of talk him through it, tongue piercing, unprotected sex, semi-public, oral (Male receiving), missionary, slight choking, soft boy Armin

Word count — 6.3k (I just get carried away)

You giggled at whatever shit Connie was spewing—boy could talk for days, but he always had you weak with laughter. You hummed, soft and lazy, as Mikasa’s nails dragged gently against your scalp, fingers slipping between your braids while your head rested comfortably in her lap.

“Connie, you need to lay off the weed, man. What is Eren feeding you?”

“Oh, piss off with that shit. My weed is way better than that dickhead’s,” he shot back.

Eren smacked the back of his buzzed head just as he passed you his blunt, the two of them bickering like always. You giggled again, more out of habit than anything, and sat up with a stretch, tugging at your little mini skirt that refused to stay put.

Mikasa had just turned 18 yesterday, and true to her chill ass nature, she kept her party small—just her closest circle. Backyard lights strung up like a soft halo above everyone, music low, vibe mellow.

The beat changed to something slower, R&B humming through the speakers, and you grabbed a paper plate off the patio table, fixing yourself some chips and dip before flopping down into a lawn chair.

You squinted your eyes as you caught a glimpse of him. Standing by the sliding glass door, half in the shadows, blonde, baby-faced, too pretty for his own good. He looked fresh-pressed in a soft blue hoodie and jeans, sipping a Sprite like he was scared the can would explode.

Armin. Eren’s little genius friend.

You knew of him, of course. You’d seen him in the halls, always head down in a book or trailing behind Eren. Heard he was crazy smart, polite as hell. Not your usual type—not loud, not bold, not a clown like Connie—but something about that shy, always-looking-but-never-speaking energy had your curiosity piqued.

You popped a chip into your mouth, chewing slow, eyes still locked on him. He looked your way and immediately looked away, ears turning hella red. That made you grin.

You pulled at the short-haired brunette as she walked by you, "Hey Mika. That's you and Eren's friend, right? Armin?"

She hummed as she waved at him, the blonde sent a small wave back at the birthday girl before he accepted another drink from Eren.

"Yeah, we grew up together, but he was always closer to Eren."

You continued to watch the blonde, the way he conversed with the taller brunette. He looked almost calm, conveying what he was like at school.

"He cute."

Mikasa blinked at you, confused for a second like she didn’t register what you said. But then her mouth curled into a knowing little chuckle.

“You serious?”

You shrugged, pretending it was nothing. “He got that awkward pretty boy thing goin’ for him. Look like he smell good.”

“He does, actually,” Mikasa said through a laugh. “Real clean. I think he uses lavender lotion.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, biting another chip. “I like that.”

You could feel Mikasa’s stare, but you didn’t bother to look. You already knew she was smirking.

“Don’t mess with him too hard,” she warned playfully. “He’s soft.”

“I’ll be gentle,” you teased.

Some time had passed since you noticed the blonde; he was still entertaining Eren —well, trying to entertain Eren as he nursed whatever was in that cup.

You got tired of waiting, you didn’t overthink it. Just stood up, let your skirt ride as it pleased, and strolled across the yard until you stood before him.

"Eren, you gonna introduce me to your friend?"

Eren blinked, mid-sip, before a grin stretched across his face.

“Oh shit. That’s right. Armin, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Armin. Be nice.”

You cocked a brow. “I’m always nice.”

Armin chuckled under his breath, then immediately looked like he regretted it. He cleared his throat, standing a little straighter.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Nice to meet you… properly.”

You tilted your head. “Yeah. I’ve seen you around.”

“I—I know. You’re usually with Sasha and Mikasa.”

“Mmhmm. And you’re usually hiding behind Eren’s loud ass.”

He smiled, embarrassed but not offended. “Guilty.”

You reached over, plucked his cup right from his hand, and took a slow sip—eyes locked on his the whole time. “This just juice?”

He nodded, clearly flustered. “Y-Yeah. I don’t drink much.”

You stepped just a little closer, your fingers lightly brushing his as you gave back the cup. “You know,” you murmured, voice low, “you don’t gotta stand over here all night.”

Armin glanced toward Eren like he was looking for backup. Eren just smirked into his drink and raised his brows.

You tilted your head, eyes soft but playful. “Come sit with me.”

Armin swallowed. “O-Okay.”

You led the way back to your seat, feeling his steps behind you, hearing the quiet thud of his shoes on the grass. You flopped back into the lawn chair, patting the empty one next to you.

“So, Armin,” you drawled, propping your elbow on the armrest, “what’s a sweet boy like you doing hangin’ with Eren’s crazy ass?”

The blonde chuckled as he looked over at his friends, "We've known each other since we were kids."

You hummed as you poped another chip in your mouth. Your eyes focused back on him but you noticed that his eyes lingered on your lips as you continued to snack on your chips.

"You want one?"

Armin blinked, slightly taken back by your question, he was slighty startled, like you'd caught him red-handed staring. “O-Oh! Uh—sure.”

His fingers brushed yours as he reached into the bag, carefully taking just one chip like you’d handed him something precious. He popped it into his mouth and chewed shyly, eyes flicking away like he didn’t know where to look.

"You don't have to be shy around me, I don't bite."

His cheeks flushed pink as he rubbed the back of his neck, laughing softly. “Sorry.”

“Mm-mm,” you hummed, shaking your head. “Don’t apologise.”

The blonde smiled soflty at you, he couldn't lie. You were the prettiest girl in school and he had seen you around more times than he can count.

You weren't head cheerleader or president but you had your own aura that made you popular. Even before you started hanging out with Mikasa and the others.

Armin couldn't help but look over your choice of clothing for the night. He belived girls called those skirts tutu skirts. It looked really good on you, the white looked angelic across your rich brown skin and if he remembered correctly underneath the hoodie you stole from Connie you were wearing a black off the shoulder top.

You were a vision, and you were talking to him. Why? He didn't understand, but he didn't care.

“So…” you leaned in slightly, resting your chin on your hand, “Are you always this quiet, or is it just ‘cause you’re sitting next to me?”

Armin let out a shaky little laugh, scratching at the back of his neck. “I, um… I guess I’m just not great at talking to… people like you.”

You raised a brow, smirking. “People like me?”

His eyes widened slightly, and you could see the internal alarm bells going off. “N-No! Not like—that sounded bad, I didn’t mean it like—”

You reached out and gave his knee a light tap, laughing softly. “Relax, Minnie. I’m messin’ with you.”

Minnie? Huh.

The blonde exhaled, slouching just a little as he ran a hand through his soft blonde hair. “Right… yeah. Okay.”

The music kept playing in the background, mellow beats and soft vocals wrapping around the backyard like a blanket. You both sat in a little bubble of calm, Eren and Connie’s voices still arguing off near the grill, Mikasa swaying slightly to the music by the table.

You leaned back in your chair, gazing at Armin out the corner of your eye. “So, tell me, genius boy,” you teased lightly, “what do you even do for fun when you’re not glued to a book or Eren’s hip?”

Armin gave a small, shy smile. “I like reading… learning new things, I guess. I help out at the library sometimes.”

You smiled, loving the way the blush on his cheeks grew. Tilting your head, you watched as he began to fiddle with the string on his hoodie, a sign that he was becoming more nervous by the second.

You leaned in just a little closer, voice dropping lower. “Y’know… you’re kinda cute when you get all flustered like that.”

Armin nearly choked on his drink, coughing softly as his eyes shot wide. “O-Oh—thank you! I mean—you too! Your really pretty."

"You think I'm pretty?"

His eyes widened as he continued to stutter, you decided to lay off the blonde for now.

"Okay, Minnie, I'll lay off." You giggled as you sat in the glow of the string lights, watching him as he slowly gathered the nerve to meet your gaze again. His eyes were warm, a little nervous, but definitely intrigued.

“Hey, Armin,” you murmured, leaning forward just enough to brush your knee against his. “We should hang out sometime. Just us.”

His jaw practically dropped. “R-Really?”

You gave him a wink. “Really.”

Armin’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he finally managed, “Y-Yeah. Yeah! I’d… I’d like that.”

You smiled, standing slowly and smoothing down your skirt, feeling his eyes follow your every move. “Good. You’ve got my number, right?”

He nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. “I—I can get it from Eren.”

“Perfect.” You flashed him one last grin before turning, your hips swaying as you walked away.

Armin stayed frozen in his chair, cheeks flushed, heart racing, Sprite can trembling slightly in his hand.

The days at school were different for the blonde. You had become what seemed to be a permenant fixture in his life since the party two weeks ago. Where he was there you were.

In the cafeteria, you sat across from him, popping fries in your mouth and giggling at whatever dumbass joke Connie cracked. In class, you’d swing by his desk to tap his shoulder, flashing him that signature grin before sauntering off like you hadn’t just sent his heartbeat into overdrive. Between periods, you were posted up at his locker, leaning back with that casual confidence, waiting on him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

People had started noticing to, the whispers in the halls between classes were loud, people wondering when and how someone like Armin ever became on your radar.

But he was used to it, he's been Eren's best friend since before they could walk and people always wondered how they were still close.

Armin had been sitting in the library trying to finish off an essay he wanted to hand in early but he kept getting bombarded by texts.

Minnie?

Where are you?

Sorry, I'm just finishing off an essay.

This was also a new thing, you’d constantly message or call him, he wasn’t complaining. Not at all, Armin loved the fact that you always messaged him first, loved how you’d always ask him what he was up to when you weren’t with him.

Armin watched as the bubbles popped up on the screen but then left. His brows furrowed not understanding the knot that quickly formed in his stomach as your text didn't come right away.

He tried to concentrate, put his focus back on his essay, but it all but failed. He knawed at his lip, foot tapping out of anxiety as his eyes continuously darted towards his phone waiting for a text.

“Minnie.”

His head snapped up.

There you were, leaning over his table, eyes sparkling beneath the library’s dull lights. You set your hands on the back of the chair across from him, tilting your head.

“We just got that essay today,” you said, lips curling into a half-smile. “Why’re you stressing?”

“I… I just wanted to get ahead,” he mumbled, already feeling heat creep up his neck. “I didn’t wanna fall behind.”

You pulled the chair out and dropped into it with a dramatic sigh, kicking your feet up on the side of his chair. “Minnie, baby… you’ve been ahead since the second day of school. You’re allowed to chill sometimes, y’know.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, gaze dropping back to his paper. “I just don’t wanna disappoint anyone.”

That made you pause.

“Disappoint who, exactly?” you asked, voice soft but a little sharp.

“…myself, I guess.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t push. Instead, you leaned forward, chin resting on your folded arms, watching him with that playful glint.

"Come on, I'm hungry, and then you're taking me home."

Armin blinked. “W-Wait, what?”

You sat up, already pulling your phone out and standing like the conversation was done. “You heard me. I’m not walking in this heat.

He fumbled to close his laptop and shove it into his bag, his heart hammering. “You didn’t even ask—”

“You would’ve said yes anyway,” you cut in with a grin, already walking backward toward the door. “Besides, you owe me for showing up to find you buried in that essay like a grandpa.”

“I—that’s not—” he started, but the way you raised an eyebrow had him shutting right up and trailing after you like a puppy.

The hallway was quiet as you stepped out of the library. You fell into stride beside him, close enough that your arm brushed his every couple steps.

"Oh, hush, you know I'm just messin'" the blonde bit his lip softly, the air between you two was quiet but not awkward as you walked out to his car.

You raised your brows softly as he opened the passenger door for you.

He’d barely made it to the driver’s side when two familiar shapes came into view.

“Yo, we looked for you in the library but—” Connie grinned as he spotted you in the passenger seat, eyes gleaming. “Damn, Min. Got plans, huh?”

You waved from inside the car, all teeth. Connie elbowed Eren who didn’t even try to hide his smug look.

“Didn’t mean to cockblock, bro,” Eren teased.

Armin’s face flushed. “It’s not even—”

“Go home, Eren,” you interrupted, waving again, voice sweet but dismissive. “We’ll see you Monday.”

The guys exchanged a laugh and dapped Armin up before disappearing back down the lot. He sighed, sliding into the driver’s seat as you giggled next to him.

You fiddled with his music, gasping softly when one of your songs came on as you sang to it softly. Armin couldn't help but glance at you as he continued to drive.

"Minnie?"

His eyes snapped forward. “Y–Yeah?”

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

He blinked. “Um… I was gonna study.”

You shook your head immediately. “Nope. Come over. I’m having a cookout and I want you to come.”

Armin glanced at you again, startled. “You want me to come?”

You gave him a look. “Of course. You don’t want to?”

“No—no! I do! I mean… yeah. I’ll come.”

“Good,” you said, settling back into your seat, pleased. “Don’t let me down, Minnie.”

He grinned to himself, hands tight on the wheel as he fought the smile tugging at his lips.

You didn’t say anything else for the rest of the ride, just let the music play and your fingers tap against your thigh in time with the beat.

Armin didn't get why this was happening to him but he sure as hell weren't gonna question it. He''d choose you over studying any time.

Armin had fixed his shirt a dozen times, ran his fingers through his hair so much-- he knew that shit was messy now.

But his nerves were eating at him; he had been parked outside your house for a couple minutes now. There was no way he was turning around, he was finally going to see you in your element, hang out just you two (well if you count your family.)

Armin could already hear the music from outside the house, the screams of children and what seemed like the shouts from adults.

It was fine, he could do this.

He didn't know if he should knock or send you a text, the music was so loud he doubt you'd hear either but that didn't matter because the door had flew open.

"I was starting to think you got lost." You grinned as the sun beat down on you, your skin glowing under the light, his eyes trailed down to the blue cami top you were wearing. He swallowed the lump in his throat as his eyes lingered for a while on your cleavage before they trailed down to the shorts that hugged your hips.

"Well, you gonna come in or what?"

"Huh-- yeah sorry." Armin walked up the rest of your driveway before meeting you at the door with a plate of brownies in his hand, his mum insited that he shouldn't show up empty handed and he knew better than to bring her potato salad.

"I-I brought you something." He blurted, holding the plate up like a peace offering. You blinked at you looked at the plate in his hands, wasn't he cute?

"Come, let me introducuce you."

The house was loud, full of noise, music was pumping through the speakers, people were singing, shouting. Kids ran past, the smell of cookng wafted his nose as you conitnued to pull him through the house.

He could feel the stares of some of your relatives, he tried to ignore them as he kept up with your pace until you stopped in front of some older women.

"Hey ma, aunties, this is my friend Armin."

Your mother raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Friend?” she echoed.

Your aunt with the butterfly locs looked him up and down, then smiled. “Well, ain’t he just precious.”

“Hi,” Armin mumbled, smile nervous, cheeks warm. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

He held the brownie plate out like a sacrificial lamb.

Your mom took it, giving him a soft nod. “Thank you, baby. You hungry?”

“Y-Yeah, I mean—I could eat.”

“Good,” she said with finality, turning back toward the kitchen. “Go fix him a plate, girl. Don’t be rude.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, grabbing Armin’s wrist. “Come on, Minnie.”

He offered one last bashful, “It’s nice meeting you all,” before you dragged him away.

You dragged him back outside, where the grill smoked in the far corner of the yard. Folding chairs were spread everywhere, music louder now. Your uncle was working the grill with a big-ass fan propped next to him and a beer in hand, muttering to himself. A card game was going strong under a pop-up tent, your cousin talking shit as he slammed down a winning hand.

Armin had never been in an environment like this, but it didn’t feel bad. It felt warm. Loud and overwhelming, but warm.

And you—you were glowing in it.

Every time you threw your head back laughing, every side hug, every shout —it made something stir deep in Armin’s chest.

You fixed his plate, teasing him for not knowing what anything was called. “That’s mac and cheese, not just ‘pasta,’ Minnie. Be serious.” You sat close next to him on the porch steps while he ate, sipping on your drink and occasionally stealing a bite from his plate with your fingers.

“So you’re Armin?” a voice said from in front of him.

Armin looked up mid-chew and almost swallowed wrong again. A small crowd had formed—three girls around your age, all staring him down like he was on trial.

“These my cousins,” you said with a lazy wave, smirking. “They know Connie and Eren. ‘Cause they’re weedheads.”

“Oh please,” the tallest one snorted. “You the one always posted up with them damn stoners. What you doing with this weirdo Armin? You don’t got no other girls at school?”

You rolled your eyes and tossed a balled-up napkin at her, hitting her square in the shoulder. She shrieked dramatically, and the others burst into laughter, crowding around the two of you on the steps.

Armin sat quietly, trying not to shrink into himself, but they didn’t seem to mind him too much after the jokes were out. One of your cousins even stole a wing off his plate and winked at him.

You just laughed and shook your head, but Armin caught the way your eyes stayed on him a little longer than necessary.

As the afternoon melted into golden-hour, more drinks passed hands, the speakers switched from oldies to newer R&B, and the yard started thinning out as folks went inside to cool down. You were tipsy now—not sloppy, just loose and a little more touchy.

Your hand found his thigh again. His name rolled off your tongue softer. Sweeter.

“You good, Minnie?” you asked at one point, low, close to his ear. “You’ve been quiet.”

Armin nodded quickly, face red but eyes locked on your lips, "Yeah, I'm good, thanks for inviting me. It means a lot."

You bit your lip softly as you watched him, the small pink hue on his cheeks had gotten darker as his eyes shifted from you to anything else.

The minute the last of your uncles disappeared inside, you stood, brushing imaginary dirt from your thighs and finishing your drink.

“I’m hot,” you said, loud enough for just him to hear. “Come upstairs with me?”

Armin blinked. “Wait, r-right now?”

You turned and shot him a lazy grin, that kind of half-lidded look that made his stomach knot.

“Why not?” you said. “I wanna change. Cool down. You coming or what?”

He scrambled to stand, heart pounding so loud in his chest it practically drowned out the music.

You led him through the house again, your bedroom was at the top of the stairs, third door on the right.

The room was warm and softly scented, with walls covered in photos, Polaroids, and posters. There was lip gloss and hair stuff on your dresser, a half-open closet full of summer fits, a record player in the corner that hadn’t been used in a minute.

Your hands stretched over your head as you pulled the hairband out of your hair, your braids falling down to your mid-back. You stopped in the middle of your room, turning to face the blonde who continued to watch you.

"You gonna come in or what?" Armin stubbled over his own feet as he walked futher into your room, closing the door behind him.

You kicked off your slides and padded over to your dresser, pulling open the top drawer and fishing for something—Armin couldn’t tell what. He tried not to stare at the curve of your ass, the way your shorts rode up, the smooth line of your back.

"So, how'd you find your first black cookout?"

"How'd you know it's my first?" You turned to face him, brows raised a little as you watched the small smile on his lips.

"Boy…"

"Come on, you know i'm joking. Haven't had mac and cheese that good in my life."

You laughed, that warm little chuckle you did when something genuinely amused you. “You talkin’ about my mama’s mac like it ain’t legendary.”

Armin laughed too, a little looser now, and moved toward the bed like he’d finally relaxed into your orbit. He sat down near the edge, careful not to mess up your throw blanket.

“You know,” he said, watching you from the bed, “I was kinda scared coming here. Thought your family was gonna hate me or think I was weird.”

You leaned against the dresser, arms folded under your chest, smirking. "Why cause you white?"

Armin choked on his spit, "Wh-what no!"

You giggled as you stepped over to him, your hands resting on his shoulders as you stood between his legs. "I'm joking, Minnie, my family seem to like you almost as much as I do."

The blonde froze as he looked up at him, his heart beating against the cage in his chest as the words rang through his head.

"Y--you like me?"

Your head tilted slightly as a smile painted your lips. Your body leaned in closer to him, "You don't believe me?"

Armin couldn't say anything else, he could feel your breath on his lips, his hands clucthing the sheets on your bed as your lips caught his.

It wasn't like Armin hadn't kissed a girl before, he had but fuck. Kissing you was different.

As his brain finally caught up to what was happening, he started to kiss you back softly, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Armin's hand moved on his own as his fingers clucthed against your waist. Your tongue slid into his mouth, moaning softly at the warmth of him but the blonde pulled back a little, surprise etched onto his face.

"Wh-what was--"

You giggled as you began to straddle his lap, swiping your tongue over your lips, causing Armin to catch the glimpse of the little silver ball.

"Did I forget to tell you I had a tongue piercing?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I think you did." The blonde couldn't help but stare as you stuck your tongue out, giving him a better view.

"It felt a little weird but I guess it's cause I was suprised."

You hummed softly, leaning in as your ran your tongue over the shell of his ear before taking it between your teeth causing the boy to shudder.

"It'll feel good on other places as well."

You didn't give him a chance to respond before your tongue invaded his mouth again. Your tongue slid against his again, and he let out a quiet whimper into your mouth, hands finally landing on your hips as you guided him. Rocked your hips once, slow and deliberate, letting him feel the heat between your thighs.

Your hands were all over him now—his shoulders, his hair, the soft line of his jaw—and Armin was unraveling with every pass of your mouth against his.

“You okay, baby?” you whispered, brushing your nose against his, voice almost teasing.

He nodded, too fast. “Y-Yeah. I just… you’re—fuck.”

You giggled as you kissed down his neck next, taking your time, your tongue flicking out over sensitive skin as your hips rolled again, just a little harder. Armin whimpered, the sound desperate and sweet.

Your hand slid up the front of his shirt, warm palms against his chest, fingertips brushing over skin.

“Can I take this off?” you asked, already tugging at the hem.

He nodded again. “Yeah—please.”

You pulled his shirt over his head, slow and sensual, and leaned in again, kissing his collarbone as your hands slid down his sides.

“You’re so sensitive, Minnie,” you whispered against his skin. “You like when I touch you?”

“Y-Yeah,” he whispered, trembling now under your mouth. “Feels so good.”

You grinned against his skin and kept going, kissing lower, letting your tongue trace little patterns down the middle of his chest. Armin’s hands clutched the edge of the bed like he was hanging on for dear life.

You shuffled completely off the bed, you kneeled between his legs as you started kissing down his stomach, your fingers already slipping under the waistband of his jeans, he let out a broken, breathy moan that made you pause—just to look up at him.

Eyes half-lidded, lips parted, hair messy from your fingers, chest rising and falling fast.

Your fingers curled around the waistband of his jeans, eyes locked on his as you popped the button open.

Armin’s breath hitched.

“You okay?” you asked, voice soft but laced with heat. You were already leaning down, mouth brushing the faint trail of hair leading beneath his boxers.

“Y-Yeah,” he stammered, voice barely a whisper as his head lifted slightly to watch you. “Just… nervous.”

You smiled, pressed a kiss just above his waistband. “Don’t be. Just relax, Minnie. I’ll take care of you.”

He whimpered when you tugged both his jeans and boxers down in one slow, fluid motion, his cock sprang free, flushed pink and already leaking.

You let out a little breath through your nose, pleased. “Damn… you’re bigger than I expected.”

Armin flushed to his ears, eyes wide like he didn’t know what to do with that information.

“You ever had someone do this for you before?” you asked, already stroking him, slow and teasing.

He nodded, cheeks burning. “Once. Kinda… quick though.”

“Mmm.” You leaned in, letting your lips ghost over his tip without touching.

Armin didn't even have a minute before you sucked him in—slow, deliberate, tongue circling the head as you eased him deeper into your mouth inch by inch. Armin’s hips jerked, the softest moan slipping from his lips as his head dropped back against the sheets with a soft thud.

“Fuck—oh my God,” he gasped, voice cracking.

Your tongue traced the underside of his shaft as you bobbed your head, wet and messy, letting spit drip down to your hand as you stroked the base. The silver ball of your piercing dragged along his sensitive spots, and every time it did, he twitched and whimpered like he couldn’t take it.

You pulled off for a second, letting your hand take over as you looked up at him with a smirk. His eyes were glazed, lips parted, chest rising and falling fast.

“You like that, baby?” you purred, thumbing his tip and watching him twitch.

He nodded fast, almost delirious. “Feels so good—fuck, your mouth—”

You giggled and leaned in again, licking a fat stripe up his shaft before wrapping your lips back around him, sucking harder this time. He was a mess now—muttering your name, hips jerking slightly despite trying to hold still, his hand drifting toward your hair before pulling back like he wasn’t sure he was allowed.

You paused just long enough to grab his hand and place it on your head.

“You can touch,” you said, voice wrecked and wet. “Just be gentle.”

Armin whimpered as you went back down on him, his fingers trembling in your braids. You picked up the pace, spit running down your chin now as you fucked him with your mouth, moaning softly just to feel the way he reacted. The vibration made him sob—a soft, high-pitched sound he tried to bite back, but you caught it.

“Lemme hear you,” you said between strokes, panting against his slick cock. “Don’t hold it in, Minnie. Wanna hear how good I’m makin’ you feel.”

"You're family—“

"Can't hear you, baby, please. Make a sound for me."

The whimper went straight to your core as you continued to work him over.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, barely hanging on. “I’m not—I don’t think I can last long.”

You pulled back, spit connecting your lips to his tip as you gave him a slow stroke. “Then don’t.”

Armin’s hips bucked at that, his thighs trembling.

“You want me to swallow?” you asked, licking a stripe up the side of his cock before taking him into your mouth again. “Wanna come down my throat, Minnie?”

He whined your name, voice all shaky and high like he was on the verge of tears. “Please—please, I’m gonna—!”

You moaned around him, taking him deeper as he came, back arching, mouth dropping open in a silent cry. You didn’t stop—just kept sucking him through it, feeling every twitch of his cock, swallowing every drop while his hand gripped your hair like his life depended on it.

When you finally pulled off with a wet pop, he looked wrecked. Hair all messy, lips bitten red, chest flushed and heaving. He blinked down at you like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

You smiled, wiping the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Take your time,” you said as you peeled off your tank top, then reached behind you to undo your bra.

Armin looked like he was dying. Hands limp beside him, lips parted in awe as his eyes locked onto your chest.

Then came the shorts—you hooked your fingers in the waistband and shimmied them down, revealing lacy black panties that were already a little damp.

You grabbed him by the hand, pulling him up gently. The blonde was a little rocky on his feet, his breathing uneven as his drunken gaze met yours.

You pulled him down to kiss you again, moaning softly as he bit your bottom lip. You switched places with the blonde, your back meeting the bed as you pulled him down with you.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"Want you to take control, Minnie, I'll ride you later but wanna feel you like this first."

Armin nodded, eyes wide, face flushed and uncertain. His fingers gripped the sheets beside your head like he wasn’t sure where to touch.

“I’ve… I mean, I’ve done this before, just—” he paused, looking down at you, all nerves and hesitation. “Not like this.”

Your hand reached up, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll help you.”

He swallowed hard, nodding again as his hand flexed against your skin. You reached between you, wrapping your fingers around his cock—still flushed, hard, and twitching—and guided him to your entrance.

You were soaked, and he felt it.

“Go slow,” you whispered, watching his face. “Just push in.”

Armin gasped as he pressed into you, the tight heat of you making him shudder. His breath hitched in his throat, eyes fluttering shut as your walls wrapped around him.

“Oh—oh my god,” he whimpered. “You feel—fuck—”

“Look at me,” you murmured, tilting your chin up. “I want you to look at me while you fuck me.”

His eyes opened again, and you swore you saw something shift in them—still nervous, but darker now. Hungrier. You hooked your leg around his waist, pulling him in deeper.

“That’s it,” you breathed, voice heady. “All the way in. Just like that.”

He bottomed out with a soft, broken moan, his hands gripping your hips now like he needed something to anchor him.

You arched up slightly, brushing your nose against his. “Now move, Minnie. Slow and deep. You’re not gonna hurt me.”

He started thrusting, shallow at first, still careful—like he didn’t trust himself.

“More,” you whispered, your hands cupping the back of his neck. “You can give me more.”

His hips snapped forward harder that time, a sharp gasp escaping him as he felt the way you squeezed around him in response.

“Fuck—does that feel good?” he asked, voice shaking.

“So good,” you moaned, head tipping back into the pillow. “You’re filling me up so good, baby.”

Armin leaned over you, arms trembling slightly as he thrust again, and again—deeper this time, hips slapping into yours with wet, sinful sounds. He was still breathing hard, still flushed, but the hesitation was slipping away.

“You’re doing so good,” you praised, eyes locked on his. “Look at you. Fucking me so well. Just needed a little push, huh?”

His jaw clenched, muscles tightening like he was holding back everything—his moans, his rhythm, the way his hips wanted to move harder.

You cupped his cheek, voice softer now. “Don’t hold back. I want you, Armin. All of you.”

Something broke in him at that. He leaned down, lips crashing into yours, and his thrusts turned rougher—more sure. His weight settled over you, one arm braced beside your head, the other gripping your thigh to keep it hitched high around his waist.

He was fucking you now, properly. The slap of skin echoed off your walls, each thrust pushing you further up the bed, the friction hot and perfect and so full.

“F-Fuck, I—” he gasped, head buried against your neck, “I don’t think I’m gonna last—”

“Yes you will,” you whispered into his ear. “Breathe. Stay with me.” Your fingers trailed up his chest before they wrapped around his neck softly.

He moaned your name, broken and needy, hips stuttering as your walls fluttered around him. You clenched on purpose, just to hear the way he choked on a curse.

You moaned as he delivered another rough snap with his hip, you fingers dug softly into his neck as you pulled him down, his lips capturing yours as he continued to fuck you.

The sounds bounced of the walls of your room, the squelching of your walls, the soft moans between you two as you continued to kiss.

Armin pulled away from you lips as you gave his neck another squeeze.

"F--fuck." You knew he was close, he wasn't gonna last long.

Your hands slid down your stomach as they found your clit, rubbing yourself softly as his strokes became sloppier.

“Can I—fuck—can I come inside?” he begged, voice cracking.

You held his face in your hands, thumb brushing over his flushed cheek. “Yes, baby. Fill me up. I want you to.”

Armin groaned—loud, raw—and his whole body locked up as he buried himself deep and came with a soft, wrecked cry. You felt the warmth of it flood you, his hips twitching through it, you pinched your clit sofrly, a moan leaving your lips as you helped him through his high.

When he finally started to calm down, he pulled back just enough to look at you. He was flushed, glowing, eyes glassy like he was still floating in that afterglow haze.

“I—I didn’t mean to come that fast,” he said, voice small.

You kissed his nose, your smile sweet and a little smug. “That was hot as hell, Armin. Don’t apologise.”

He blinked. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And besides…” You reached between you, rubbing slow circles over your still-throbbing clit. “I did say I’d ride you later, didn’t I?”

His eyes widened.

“You’re not done?” he asked, voice already breathless again.

You smirked, licking your lips as you rolled him onto his back and swung a leg over his hips.

“Not even close.”

𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘢𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ©

[hello-from-nrc-infirmary]

Spring Equinox

Starting Hours

"What did he say?"

Vern is quiet, his chest aches like his heart is carrying stones. "Koa, I'll go head.. you um.. stay here and wait."

"Pardon? That would be unwise, considering-"

"-I will command it," the sprite shoves his phone away.

The elk stares at him for a few moments, waiting. Firm silence meets the familiar. Taking a step back, Koa flicks his ear. Vern can feel the small pull as the elk gathers magic at his antlers before slicing the air open. He places a reassuring hand on Koa and gives the elk a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

Swallowing the dull ache, Vern steps through the portal. His stomach churns with it. Pausing, he takes deliberate breaths, allowing his surroundings to come into focus.

Everything is loud, bustling. The wind from the mountains is a little warmer. Even the sun seems to shine brighter. Another year, another Equinox. He has to see Shirley first, the Southern Street.

His feet carry him down the familiar brick street. It's uneven, easy for grass and flowers to slip through the cracks. He takes his time to talk with any who greet him. Part of him hoping to delay the inevitable.

Humans and fae alike are crammed around Shirley's studio. They're there for the distillery next door. It makes his ears ring and getting to his sister's store difficult. Too many glance overs, too many questions. He sighs heavily when the door to the studio shuts behind him.

"There you are!!!"

Vern lets Shirley abruptly squeeze him. He mentally notes that she seems taller. "I said I would be..."

She releases him, glancing behind him, "where's Sil-Sil?"

"E-excuse me?"

"Oh! Uh, Silver," she laughs and drags Vern towards the back. "I gave him a nickname."

He's quiet as he looks over the two outfits in front of him, "he... will um... be here later..."

"Oh," Shirley almost sounds deflated, "I'm sorry-"

"-What's with the blue dress?"

"I wanted to like get ahead of things so... I started on it," she seems happy as she shows him some floral details. "So like, I don't have the accessories in for it yet, but I'm totally thinking of like... matching it with the details around the neckline! Don't worry, I already thought of silk gloves-"

Vern's chest tightens. His stomach is in knots as it plummets. "Shirley, it's... it's beautiful... but we haven't decided on anything..."

"Er.. w-well... I know, but like... I'll just shove this one back into the closet."

He nods as she steps away. Turning his attention to the glittering gold details of the other outfit. It certainly screams spring. Muted greens with a pop of pale pink. The gold accessories look fairly heavy. Absently, he drags a finger through the tiny bells dangling from the metal hip accessory. The delicate chimes give him a little ease.

"I can help you put that all on! You'll like... totally need it"

"R-right..."

Shirley scribbles something on a piece of paper and hands it to Vern. "Here, the locks for the gold parts can seal with magic. Traditionally, that's like.. a spouse thing to do? Something about a protection spell. So... make sure Silver gets that."

"O-oh..." he nods as she brings him to the changing area. "I will..."

'What's wrong with me today? It's just another Equinox. Just another 24 hours. It's fine. I will be... no, I'm fine. It's just nerves and a bit of dread over Victor.... and mother's Willow's Wane. I'll have to visit Lux, Stravi, Gin, Sasha, Franz, and... I need to focus'

Ooc// hmm... this one is a bit more angsty than I meant... oh well!!!

Hm.. should I release the design for his equinox attire? I have the design version.. I could make a card... I'll have some time soon...

(We just gave them 2 birthday cards)

and? It looks cool!!

(Fair.)

(Tagging): @nrcbookclub @night-raven-miscellany @aurora-retainer-silver

[ducksido]

Hai!! I decided to be loyal once again and request my schmookie bear Idia🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤 so imagine this 😈😈, Idia with an equally as socially awkward reader, who loves programming video games, the catch is that well… they program otomes😱😱😱

So Idia and reader are already dating and just chilling and they’re trying to make the perfect otome together despite sucking at romantic relationships (Brian once again no work, so interpret may👍👍👍👍👍)

It’s a typical day in Ignihyde—meaning dark, silent, and filled with the glow of multiple monitors and the faint smell of energy drinks and anxiety.

You’re slouched on Idia’s beanbag chair, a laptop on your knees and your fingers flying over the keyboard. Beside you, Idia is hunched at his own desk, cloak pooling around his legs, hoodie up, and hair glowing the softest hue of content blue. You’re both locked in total silence… except for the muttered lines of code and occasional:

“Bro, why did this variable name turn into emotional damage. It’s literally self-destructing my script—oh wait. That was a typo.”

You and Idia are, somehow, making the perfect otome game. The catch?

Neither of you has functioning romantic experience. Outside of each other, and even then it's like watching two haunted raccoons try to hold hands without combusting.

“Okay…” you mutter, staring blankly at the dialogue box on the screen. “So the love interest just confessed, and the MC’s supposed to, like, respond. What would be… realistic?”

Idia blinks slowly. “Uh. You mean in actual human realistic, or idealized 2D husbando dream logic realistic?”

You chew your sleeve. “I don’t know. What would you say if someone told you they loved you?”

He visibly bluescreens.

“...besides shutting down,” you add quickly.

“…Uhhh. I'd probably say something like, ‘N-no way, you’re just saying that because of the stat boost from that one event where I accidentally held your hand—why would anyone like me, I’m a zero-drop-rate SSR-level disappointment,’ and then short-circuit and roll under my desk.”

You blink. “Honestly? That’s better than like 80% of otome responses.”

You both nod solemnly.

Later, while working on the “Kiss CG Unlock” scene, both of you sit stiff as boards.

You: “Should he, like… kiss her forehead? Or is that too intimate??”

Idia: “W-wait forehead is more intimate than the cheek, right? I read that somewhere on a forum. I think.”

You: “What if the sprite kisses the air two pixels next to her cheek to imply it happened off-screen?”

Idia: “Genius. Subtle. Emotional. The fans will cry.”

You both high-five. You miss. Your fingers brush.

You both recoil like you touched a live wire.

Cue Idia’s hair flaring bright pink as he dramatically covers his face with his hoodie sleeve:

“C-crap! Critical hit!! Emotional damage x9999!!”

You wheeze into your hoodie. “We’re literally dating, why are we like this???”

“I don’t know!! You’re my actual love interest! It’s different! It’s worse! You’re real!!” he screeches.

Despite the awkward chaos, the otome game starts looking… kind of amazing. The characters have incredibly nuanced personalities, the routes are emotional and hilarious, and the MC has more depth than most commercial games. (She even has an option to respond to a confession with “No u.”)

You both sit there, staring at the final screen — the last line of code compiled. The game runs. No bugs. All dialogue paths working.

"...We actually made it," you whisper.

Idia looks at you.

“W-we… made a game. Together. An otome game. About romance. Despite being walking cringe compilations.”

He reaches over—slow, like a cutscene CG—and pokes your hand.

“True Ending unlocked,” he mumbles.

Your face heats up. You take his hand.

Achievement Unlocked: ‘Mutual Tsundere Affection.exe’

Bonus: Ortho walks in 3 minutes later and sees the two of you collapsed on the beanbag, holding hands and red-faced, surrounded by empty cans and 700 lines of spaghetti code.

He takes one look at the screen.

“…Big Brother. Y/N. This is the most emotionally repressed game I’ve ever seen. 10/10.”

[dirksawesomesprites]

editing / fixing sprites + my headcanons

Part 1: Beta Lowbloods

Aradia Megdio

without bag

with bag

dead

she uses she/they and is demigirl and bisexual. her horns are covered in a layer of dust from scavaging for fossils and living in an underground hive. she wears a messanger bag that she uses to keep all of her fossile hunting materials and other things. she uses the fossils to decorate her hive and shes goth (original i know). her matesprit is sollux and her moirail is feferi.

Tavros Nitram

he uses he/him and is a cis guy (just is slightly feminine) he is mlm/gay. he loves fairycore and his favourite dog breed is a golden retriver (speficially the human version dave showed him, not alternian.) his robot legs will occasionslly malfcution, causing them to either get locked in place, squeak loudly, or get sticky joints. dave constantly has to call dirk over to fix his legs. his matesprit is dave, moirail is gamzee, and he has a black crush on gamzee (not very "black" though, mostly a "i can fix him" mentality but it ends up being "i can fix him but itll make me worse in the prossess) type stuff. its a pale leaning black thing.

Sollux Captor

he uses they/he/she and is bisexual and bigender (original i know but its kinda funny concidering my headmate with a sollux source is bisexual and bigender so im stealing that). hes emo and has a johnnie guilbert shrine in his hive he swears is ironic. he is colour blind (blue colour blindess specifically) so he sees voilet/purple as a ugly brown thats why he calls eridan ugly so much. he plays the synthesizer. hes double jointed and likes to gross his friends out with it. his shoes were orignially both white but he lost the second one but was too lazy to find it so he just wears the same brand shoe but different colours. theyre vans shoes. his matesprit is aradia , his moirail is dave , his kismesis is eridan , and his auspistice is karkat.

Karkat Vantas

he uses they/he, theyre nonbinary / transmasculine (has top scars and is technially transmasc but is also nonbinary i dont know if im saying this right) and is unlabeled for sexuality (they kiss guys but is unlabeled take with that what you will) they are punk even if they dont particualerly dress like it. their sweatpants are too big and their sweater is too small / tight so theyre a small gap of stomach showing. he purrs when happy, sleepy, or comfortable. when he gets scared their voice cracks and squeaks. when theyre alone listening to music in their hive hell jump around bouncing off stuff pretending to play the guitar and screaming / singing at the top of his lungs to the song. his matesprit is gamzee, his moirial is eridan, his kismesis is dave, and they aupistice for eridan and sollux.

Nepeta Lejion

she uses she/meow and is girlflux, catgender (original i know), grey romantic, and asexual. when she paints on her shipping wall she tends to get paint all over her and it has since stained her jacket. she has had her hat since she was very little and its very streched out and worn. same with her tail as its not part of her, it drags on the ground behind her and gets dirt, sticks and leaves caught in it most of the time. she likes to play the xylophone, read warrior cats, and play animal jam with equius. she purrs when she his happy / sleepy / comfy like karkat. her matesprit is feferi and her moirail is equius.

[myuni-moon]

SAGAU: Reboot (Part 3)

cw: violence, reader falls unconscious

You’re operating fully for survival the moment you feel the hard pressure against your skin. The manacle feels too tight, and you tug on it to hopefully grab the attention of anyone close enough to hear your strangled cries amidst the rattling metal. Kaeya lifts you so easily into the air, as if you were truly nothing. The need to claw at him to release you becomes great, and you act out solely in pure instinct.

Without thinking, your nails make contact with the arms keeping you in a chokehold. All you can envision is the scrape against his muscles, and you pray you leave enough damage to make him stop. You can only worry then what happens after that.

“You’re so pathetic, it’s almost cute.” Kaeya laughs. It grates your ears. Your consciousness is close to slipping, and it makes you even more desperate. You kick. You cry. You struggle. Anything to get away from him.

A breeze passes by you, tickling the hairs on your legs. In a locked room with no windows, it is completely out of the ordinary. However, in your frazzled state, you can’t care for it– not when a pair of thumbs are threatening to crush your windpipe without so much as hesitation. Black dots your vision. Your head feels so fuzzy. You want to live. That’s all you think about; survive, fight, pray– you pray someone, anyone comes for you.

You’re let go abruptly, your body dropping unceremoniously onto the floor. Coughs ripple your lungs as you attempt to breathe in as much oxygen as you can manage. Your vision is still hazy, and your head rings with the adrenaline rush coursing through your veins. Like a bug, you writhe on the floor as the reprieve settles into your system.

In the fever-like state, you can only hear glimpses of a high-pitched voice.

“… too much… unconfirmed... traveler… without Paimon… elemental trials…”

You black out.

You find yourself in a white void. Nothing and anything is bound to happen. The strangeness of your current setting should be another cause for caution, but any panic within you dissipates as if it never was there to begin with. You settle with staring into the endless space.

“We have waited for so long.” The words tingle like strings on a lyre. Each melodic ring reverberates in your head, a choir of disembodied voices speaking to you all at once.

Your head whips from one direction to another, “who are you?”

A blue light materializes before you; it circles around your form. It grazes around your skin, tickling every part it touches. “We are here to serve you, dearest one.” You reckon the light is who you’re talking to.

“What do you mean?”

Your head tilts in confusion, and the sprite blinks as if amused at your confusion.

“We,” it sings, “are made to heed your every word. If you have any concerns, pleas, orders, you need only tell us– and we shall fulfill them to the best of our abilities.

“We can be the wind beneath your sails, the tumultuous storm upon your enemies, and the gentle breeze that comforts you. Dearest one, we are The Thousand Winds. It is our greatest pleasure to welcome you once again to the lands of Teyvat.”

A breeze kicks up from the nothingness; it blows past you along with the little light. It swirls and swirls until it becomes a raging storm. You think the blue whirlwind would threaten to blow you away, but your feet are firmly planted to the ground. In fact, there is barely any force acting upon you from the tornado. It feels unreal, too unreal even for a dream. A part of you knows there is something more than your subconscious at play.

Before you can ponder upon it, the voice rings once more– “Any time you require us, only call to the god of Anemo.”

And just like that, the presence dissipates. You are left in the empty void once more.

Your mind slowly comes into awareness, feeling the ache in your bones and the strain in your muscles. It takes some time before you’re able to open your eyes fully. You’re only half conscious when you hear the creak of the door, and the sound of footsteps approaches you in steady strides. A gentle touch, something far divorced to the force on your neck previously, brushes against your fingertips.

It’s light– almost airy– in the way it moves through the grooves of your fingerprints. Inhuman, your mind whispers in your lack of awareness. The impression it leaves on your skin is kind, and that is enough to jolt you awake.

When you’re fully conscious, emerald eyes are peering into yours. They shine with the sunlight from an open window; doves coo right outside it. The figure in front of you is only processed as a bright, melodious voice resonates from them.

Your name is softly uttered in reverence, followed by a lyre’s hum. The discomfort in your body is relieved, and the pressures against your mind eases. You can say you’ve almost completely slipped into a state of serenity– mindlessness. The fight or flight instincts within you fade and is slowly placated-

Your fingers still twitch.

[tipolover22]

More from my Familiar Husband au!!!

My human Satin and Chenille designs! Absolutely love them!!!

I suggest you read Part 1 before reading Part 2!!

Part 2 under the cut, cause it is LONG!!!

Ok, so! We left off with Poppy having the best day ever in her new life. Well, it’s time to go to bed and when Creek tries to start something, Poppy stops his advances saying she’s not in the mood and she’s sure her period just started, when really she feels conflicted about doing something like that with Creek at the moment because her mind is still on Branch. She can’t tell him that though. Creek says it’s totally fine, but he doesn’t stay patient for long. The next few days are exactly like the first. And Creek makes the perfect trophy husband! One day, however, she’s finally has time to spend with her friends outside of work. Biggie is still a photographer, Guy Diamond is still a director, Suki and Cooper still make music for their labels, Smidge is still the social media sensation Gym Queen, and Satin and Chenille still design for the industry. She finds out, however, that even though everyone else still ended up with their significant others/remained single, Satin never married. Poppy guessed that made sense. She met Rudy at her and Branch’s wedding, which now never happened. Still, it hurt her heart to know that she did that to her friend, who was now complaining about being single and drinking mimosas to her heart’s continent when before she was a happily married career woman with the country's third best baseball star as her husband. Poppy feels absolutely horrible about it, so she spends some one on one time with Satin, taking her to spas and out for food telling her who needs a man when you have your girls! Satin doesn’t know what this is about, but who is going to turn down a free spa day lol. 

So fast forward a few days, Poppy’s agent tells her that they are taking her to the next level! And that she’s going to be doing a collab with a boy band that’s been at the top for the last seven years. Poppy’s sitting and waiting in a room at her label when she decides to go get something from the vending machine while she waits. While at the vending machine, she hears the pitter patter of little feet running towards her. She turns towards the sound only to be tackled by something large and fluffy. There’s a dog licking her all over her face. But not just any dog, it’s-

“SPRITE!” A voice calls. 

Poppy knows that voice. She’d heard it yell Sprite’s name for years. Suddenly, there’s a man pulling Sprite off of her and apologizing saying that she doesn’t usually act like this to strangers and that’s when they lock eyes. It’s Branch. But it’s not. The dark circles under his eyes were gone, his hair was no longer awry and unkempt, and he wasn’t wearing the same damn pajama robes she was close to burning in the fireplace. And, most surprisingly of all, he wasn’t scowling at her. No. This Branch had glowing skin, shiny blue hair, was dressed to impress, and was looking at her with a surprised expression and a small smile on his lips.

After the incident, they are all in the room with their agents and the right people to discuss the collab. This is where Poppy finds out that Brozone, the band her husband was in with his brothers, actually made it in this universe long before she did. Like, all the way back in 2018. The year he confessed. Which she finds so weird, cause 3 months into their relationship, Branch had told her that Brozone didn’t make the cut, so the band broke up and went their separate ways until his wedding, where they all finally reconnected.

A little detail about the wedding that I really love is Rosiepuff is still alive at that point and knitted a picnic blanket for their wedding and Poppy even used her old wedding dress, which she absolutely loved because it was a vintage ball gown with the PUFFIEST sleeves. Bruce complains that Rosie didn’t put all this effort into his and Brandi’s wedding and she’s like, “That little shotgun thing y’all did because you got her pregnant?! Invite me to a real wedding, then you get a gift!” 

Anyway, on to “present” day. The agents are sensing a little tension from Poppy and they ask if they know each other. Poppy’s like, “Uh, yeah. We were, um, friends back in college.” She hears snickers coming from Clay and Bruce and watches as Branch glares at them and says, “This is why I don’t tell you guys shit.” It was the most Branch thing he had done since she’s seen him again, that and rubbing Sprite’s ears affectionately. John Dory tells his brothers to knock it off while Floyd pats Branch’s shoulder. 

Watching them all feels surreal to her. Floyd didn’t have his usual long hair and bangs and dark clothes. His hair was kept short, but still had pink highlights. And he wore an outfit that was more mainstream. Clay wasn’t some super thin book worm/author with his sweater vests, his hair had blonde highlights and he looked like he worked out for the body he had now. Bruce wasn’t chubby with a kid on his arm. It looked like he never stopped working out to keep up with the Hearthrob image. And he had no ring on his finger. He still had his purple fro, though. The biggest shock was probably John Dory. He was clean shaven, kempt green hair, clothes that actually flattered him, and, most surprising, he didn’t smell like booze. The John Dory in her last life had the biggest drinking problem and was always dressed in rags and couldn’t keep a job. It was so weird seeing him so put together. 

After a talk about the collab with their agents, they split for the time being. Poppy’s alone taking all this information in when John Dory of all people comes up to her. He’s acting all nice and friendly, making polite conversation when he makes a little comment about rejecting Branch all those years ago. She tries to apologize for that but he tells her not to. That he is so thankful that she rejected him all those years ago because he felt like Branch would’ve left the band to stay with her in Austin if she hadn’t. It gets Poppy thinking if Branch lied to her when he said Brozone didn’t make the cut (He did). John goes on to tell her that everything went right after they made it big. With the money they were making, they were able to afford a comfortable life for their grandma before she died and he was able to finally pay off all of their student loans. All the financial problems he was keeping from his brothers were no longer problems and his brothers never had to know. And he was thanking it all on her. He said he was happy she made it big as well and that this collab was gonna be amazing with his song writing skills. Poppy put on a bittersweet smile. At least the man was still confident as ever. 

So then they are all getting ready for a tv appearance to announce their collab and that’s when everything goes to shit. 

Branch and Poppy are having polite conversation and Branch asks if he’s offended her in some way because she’s unusually tense. Poppy doesn’t get a chance to answer, though, when Satin and Chenille walk in to try and drag her away. The twins end up talking with Branch for a second and, much to Poppy’s dismay, it seems like Branch and Satin are FLIRTING!!! She interrupts it by saying that they really should get going to the dressing room. As they are walking to the dressing room, Satin starts going off about Branch, saying he’s so much cuter than he was in college and the bad attitude he used to have was long gone and turns to Poppy and Chenille asking if she should shoot her shot. Chenille immediately says yes, so she can stop third wheeling on her and Suki’s dates. Satin’s unsure though cause he’s this huge popstar now. She asks Poppy what she thinks. Poppy’s mind is telling her to yell to stay away from her man, but she has to check herself because, no, that’s not her man anymore. She changed that. She goes against everything her body is telling her and tells Satin she should go for it. 

It absolutely breaks Poppy when she sees them getting chummy. She starts to get jealous, even when she knows it’s wrong. Because she made it this way. Somehow, though, it always seems to be the three of them hanging out. One day they’re all eating at a high end cafe and Satin asks what his favorite type of shows are. Poppy thinks in her mind, Of course it’s melodramas, because when she would get home from her weeks in the industry, it’s what she would walk in on him watching. She would even scold him to stop watching those if all they were gonna do is make him cry. He would only give her a blank stare before turning back to his show.  It absolutely shocks her when this Branch says his favorite shows are comedies. And Poppy had to look back at her time with him and remember that, yes, he absolutely loved comedies. He had only recently started watching melodramas religiously. She blurts out, “What about melodramas?” And he gives her a weird look and she’s like, “They’re Satin’s favorite!” And Satin’s like, “No, they’re Chenille’s.” Which Poppy remembered was true. But, Branch does admit that he does watch melodramas only so that when he wants to cry, he can put one on and no one will say anything about it. It gets the gears in Poppy’s head turning about why he was always watching those dramas when she would get home late from a flight. Or after a huge fight. Or when she got home a day AFTER the anniversary of his grandma’s death. The world around her blurred as all of her mistakes replayed in her head. How she was dismissive of him when he would say she should take her days off to spend together instead of trying to fill them up with gigs. And how she ignored him when he was literally telling her how ignoring him was hurting him. All he wanted to do was talk to her. All he wanted to do was be with her. He gave her his 100 percent. And after a while, she got selfish and just started taking it without reciprocating. He grew distant, he grew angry, he grew sad. And it was all her fault. 

It took a minute to realize that they were now talking to her and when she looked at Branch, he was looking at her. Eyes full of concern just for her. 

Poppy excuses herself and calls her agent saying she needs her to find someone. A guy that calls himself Cloud Guy. While she did that, Poppy went and tried to find a half dollar coin minted in 2018. She ended up having to pay 20 bucks for the damn thing, but it was worth it. Because she was going to go back and fix what she broke. 

Cloud Guy wasn’t hard to find, there were only so many cab drivers in the world who called themselves Cloud Guy. So she flies to Austin and finds him high out of his mind in his own cab late at night. She tries to snap him out of it, going on to say that this was all her fault. That she’s the one who made him unhappy, she’s the one who turned him into a monster, all because she thought she had it harder. She used work to get away from him. He tried to tell her what he was feeling, he tried so many times that it broke him! She remembered now! It was her fault! She wanted to go back and fix it! She sobs that she just wants her life back! She brings out the coin and asks him how does she go back. Cloud Guy’s goofy smile suddenly fades and he looks at her with a pained expression. He says he’s sorry, but that window is closed. What’s done is done. Poppy sobs harder. She doesn’t believe it. She pleads, she prays, she begs. There has to be something she can do! Cloud Guy grabs her hands and slowly wraps her fingers over the coin. He say, “The only thing you can do now is be a good person…and wish him happiness.” It finally sinks in that there was no going back. That she had lost her chance. She had lost her husband. She had lost the man she loved. She falls to the floor, sobbing, as all of the memories of their time together come flooding into her mind. The confession, their first date, their first kiss, the first time they said “I love you”, the proposal, the wedding, their vows, the house, Sprite. It was all gone. And she would never get it back. 

How could she be so stupid?

She flies back to the city with a horrible sense of dread that’s evident to everyone, but she doesn’t want to talk about it. It’s evident to Brozone that something happened while she was away. That the smile she has up right now is fake and she’s just trying to get through the day. But whenever any of them ask, she says she’s fine. But they can all see the way she looks at Branch when she thinks no one’s looking. They all keep it to themselves, though. Cause they have no idea what Branch would do if he knew Poppy had feelings for him. After all, she was a married woman. 

John Dory was the only one who seemed to notice that she didn’t wear her wedding ring anymore, though.

There had been problems since the collab started. Poppy was noticing controlling behavior in Creek from the start. Like how he got really annoyed when she came home from the salon with long almond shaped nails, her favorite in her other life. Creek told her that he thought they talked about that, how it feels gross when the nails touch him and how it makes her look like a hooker. Poppy could not believe what she was hearing, because Branch absolutely loved when she would run her nails through his hair. She stayed at the studio that day and didn’t come home until late, where she stayed on the couch. Creek apologized the next day and ordered her favorite breakfast to sweeten the apology. And it worked… Until he put another foot in his mouth. And another. And another. It was insult after insult, like he was trying to kick her down a peg or two. She was, of course, able to clock that shit after being treated like a queen for six years. And nothing disgusted her more than when Viva and her dad came to visit and he threw an absolute fit when Poppy suggested they stay with them.

Poppy did not play about her family. There was a sixteen year age gap between her and Viva, so even though Poppy wasn’t even 30 yet, her dad was old, and his memory problems were getting worse. She and Viva had agreed a long time ago that she would take care of him while Poppy focused on her music career. And Viva. God, Poppy had no idea how to explain it. Viva had almost gotten on a plane ride to a huge Mini Golf tournament six years ago. Viva was a star at Mini Golf. The best! She was making a career out of it, winning prizes and showing off on social media. For some reason, though, her dad convinced her not to go, so she didn’t. They found out on the news a few days later that the plane she was going to take crashed with very few survivors. Poppy had nightmares for weeks where Viva had actually gone on that plane…and had been one of the victims. She could still smell the cemetery dirt from her dreams. She could still see the tombstone with her name on it. Like she had actually been there. She couldn’t imagine actually losing her sister. So, no, she did NOT play about her family. She ended up booking joint rooms in a luxury hotel for them, where Poppy also stayed, bunking with Viva for their time there. Poppy could see through Creek now. But, after Viva and her dad went back to their home state and she went back to the condo, Creek was doing everything to please her. She wasn’t falling for it though. She already had a lawyer draft up a divorce. 

Even though she was going to be unhappy, she wasn’t about to let Branch go unhappy. So she did her best to step back and let his relationship with Satin grow. 

But, little did she know, Branch was not interested. He didn’t even realize what Satin was doing, he believed he was just catching up with old college peers. Even after all these years of fame and girls throwing themselves at him, he only ever had eyes for Poppy. So he was always trying to find a way to have alone time with her. Though Branch knew she was married, he still wanted to be in her life. Even if it was just friends. But feelings keep happening, obviously and he can’t help but think she feels the same way. Because a certain dream keeps playing in his head when he’s with her. 

The night she rejected him, he dreamed of a life with her. It started off perfect. They had the perfect relationship, the perfect life. But then it turned sour and after another fight where she left the house, they ultimately divorced and went their separate ways. Branch had guessed it was his subconscious trying to cheer him up with a horrible scenario to make him feel better about the rejection. But, now that she’s back in his life, weird things are happening. Like, during the first few days of their collab, his brothers had told him about an incident where they were all giving their drink orders to some apprentice or something and it got to his order, which he was unfortunately out for. Before any of them could say anything, Poppy answered, ordering him a hot mocha and said, while laughing, to make sure it came with a bendy straw. When they all gave her looks she made up some excuse about him always ordering that drink when they would study at a cafe. Which they guessed made sense, but the bendy straw thing was a family inside joke about Branch being the baby. So how did she know THAT? And one time when it was just them in the studio, he had fallen asleep on one of the chairs. He woke up to Poppy stroking his hair. Just like she would do in his dreams. And one time they were just joking around about they’re heights. Branch was like, “You’re only an inch taller than me!” And then she said something that she always said in his dreams. “Yeah, and with these heels I’m four inches taller than you!” And then she let out a laugh with the cute little snort at the end. Just like in his dream. And the time he was getting a migraine, but ran out of pills. He found Aleve in his bag a short time later, the only pain killer that relieved his headaches, and was told by a worker that Poppy put it there. There was no way she could just know that! Also! One time he couldn’t get Sprite to calm down, she was being to playful, Poppy called her name, pointed a finger gun at her, and went “Pew, pew!” Sprite immediately played dead, finally calming down. Branch didn’t even know Sprite could do that! Not to mention when her dad and sister came to visit them at the studio, her dad kept calling him his son-in-law. He had played along with it to keep the old man from freaking out (which only freaked Branch out when he asked when he and Poppy were gonna give him grandkids lol).

She knew things she shouldn’t. She acted so familiar around him when they had barely been friends before. He was starting to get…comfortable with it. Even though all of his brothers kept warning him that she was off limits, that she was a married woman, a part of him… didn’t care. He couldn’t stay away. So he kept letting her cross boundaries he didn’t know he had around her, he kept letting her act so familiar towards him. But the weight of the situation finally dawned on him when they were all scheduled to appear at a party for their collab and she brought Creek with her. He drank what he could to ease the pain and when the party got too much, he went to go find a quiet place to rest his body and, most of all, his mind. When he thought he found a quiet place, he heard arguing nearby. It was Poppy and Creek. 

Poppy was done with Creek. She truly was. The divorce papers were ready to sign. However, when he suggested going to the big party with her, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Boy was she wrong to do that. He started getting handsy with her even after she told him to stop. So they went somewhere private, got into the argument, and Creek left saying if she wasn’t going to give him any, he’d find it somewhere else. 

Poppy stood there in silence, fuming at such disgusting words. She couldn’t believe this was the man she ruined her life for. She thanked all the gods she knew it would be over with him soon. That’s when Branch comes out from where he was staying hidden. She visibly calms down and says she didn’t see him there. Branch points out the argument she was just having and she tells him it’s nothing. He stumbles a bit when walks towards her and Poppy catches him, asking him if he’s alright. He looks up at her with teary eyes. He tells her that no, he’s not alright. He starts to say that he can’t help himself. That he knows it’s wrong because she’s a married woman, but he doesn’t feel guilty for having these feelings. That he can’t help looking at her when she’s close, that he can’t help being around her because this rapport feels so familiar to him. That he feels so safe and assured around her. He doesn’t know what to do anymore. He’s in love with her. And he has been since the moment they met. Poppy is crying at this point. She is filled with so much regret. She shakes her head, trying to say that they can’t. She’s still thinking of Satin. But no words come out. Because she’s also still thinking of the man that blurted out a love confession before he missed his chance. The man who ran to her when the  The man who cried when she walked down the aisle, and cried harder when saying his vows. The man who stayed by her side all those years. The man she neglected, mistreated, ignored. So when he grabbed her hand, she let him. When he brushed her bangs out of her eyes and settled the hand on her cheek, she let him. And when he brought her down into a kiss, she let him.

Kissing him again brought out a fire she forgot was inside her. They started to kiss more passionately, his thumb stroking her cheek and her fingers combing through his hair. But that was short lived when a booming voice yelled, “What’s going on here?!” 

They both broke apart so fast it was like they had burned each other. They turn to find John Dory standing there, dumbfounded.

And that's all I'm giving away!! Part 3 will come out soon! I swear!!

[jekyll-doodles]

The Ladies of Addagala || Kofi | Commission Info | Threadless Shop|| Do not edit, trace, or repost!

So this started as another one-off bit that involved drawing the lords of Alagadda with inverted colors, but it grew into a whole realm with Lore. The finding of this place written below, pov of my sprite persona.

[ You would think I would have learned my lesson by now, considering how the blame fell on me for witnessing and then interfering with these kinds of entities. But, no. And so, with the knowing expectation that I will be held responsible for merely observing this, I wish to tell you what I saw while around the outer boundaries of ■■■ verse, ■■■ space-■■■ time, "SCP Wakey Wakey"’s reality. It would appear that, by accident, a secondary nexus evolved from my observations of Alagadda and its tributaries. An attempt by What Is and What Isn’t to balance out the chaos of the city-state: an antithesis. Such a place is a hefty feast to observe by oneself – hence my absence – so I took in what I could for now. More undoubtedly lingers beneath its glossy surface.]

The Land of Addagala – a name a little too on-the-nose in my opinion, but that's not important – was a citywide sanctuary locked within a snowglobe. The first notable sensation I recall being the chill in the air; I learned later that it became just warm enough in its spring and summer seasons to let the flowers bloom and produce fruit. A warmth that apparently came not from the grey sun, but that radiated out from their beloved monarch. The sun, which also acted as its moon, was more of a static decoration in the sky. No sunrise or sunset; the day faded into night into day into night again without it. The kingdom’s borders were high stone walls, beyond which was a mystery that even my kind could not perceive; it simply did not exist. Leaving through the gates led out to… Well, it led me out to Nowhere, but others presumably back their native reality (hopefully). Within said walls were sprawling, spiraling meadows, pastures, and gardens. Neat rows of simplistic homes and facilities leading up to its centerpiece: a modest basilica with a clock tower that stretched far higher than seemed necessary. Everything within this scenery had its similarly mandated colors – or only naturally occurring ones depending on the realm’s laws– of Silver, Indigo, Sapphire, and Turquoise.

After a general overview, I floated down and followed one of the branching stone paths in the garden. Blue roses and peonies lined in neat spirals, soft turquoise grasses, beautiful stone statues, bumbly honey bees buzzing about; I must’ve spent hours in the garden alone. The aforementioned clocktower would sweetly chime each hour before falling into a peaceful quiet again. I spied a few citizens there as I perused the flowers. Besides the silver masks (also mandatory here), they dressed in accordance with the cold weather: Long gowns, capes, and sleeves; furs, feathers, and fluff; soft, warm, and layered to keep the cold at bay. I learned later that those unfortunate few to enter without proper fittings would not stay cold long as the advising Ladies and their orderlies would happily provide suitable clothing. Their motives are well-intentioned, yet also motivated by an implied modesty dress code. Suppose I should have expected as much from the opposite Alagadda.

It was there within the gardens where I found the first lady of the city: Lady Turquoise, wearer of the Solemn mask. Dignified yet understanding. Her stature towered, imposing an air of respect. She was hard at work tending to the hedges; precise in every movement and measurement. A look within revealed more about her and the kingdom itself: This place had a rigid sense of time and a stern set of rules to keep order: both of which were expected to be followed by every citizen. And schedules needed to be planned, written, and updated by someone. The sense of such strict routines was somewhat nauseating – and I like routine, mind you. But now, in a moment of allowed leisure, she tended to her gardens. I would’ve lingered longer to watch her work, but the hint of desperate perfectionism within warded me off. I drifted off towards the main square.

More citizens, and few visitors, were found here. Pleasantly conversing, eating lunches, etc. It was hard to imagine this place had any tie to Alagadda, opposite or not. The mundanity of it was too… mundane. Even the silver masks adorn by all only gave a small sense of strangeness. Even the appearance of the second lady held little fanfare – if you could even call it that. Lady Silver, wearer of the Solaceful mask. A face that knew deep sorrow yet so hopeful. She was out on a daily constitutional, greeted by the occasional passerby. As I lingered near her, more revealed itself: this was a place of pacifism. Violence of any kind would not be tolerated and be “corrected”. That word always worried me, and for good reason. As the clocktower chimed again, I saw how these “corrections” were made. The tower held many rooms: rooms of solitary for those who needed time to accept the help they were so graciously getting. To break those unfortunate habits they brought with them. Truly, they – well, Lady Silver here had her doubts about it, how helpful – believed this method was humane. My growing disappointment accompanied me as I continued my investigation. The city’s basilica awaited.

More flowers, statues, and an endearing fountain decorated the atrium. A faint humming led me to its kitchen. A friendly tune, hummed by a most friendly person. The third lady of the city: Lady Sapphire, wearer of the Amiable mask. Her countenance bore a gentle, inviting smile. She was discussing medicines with a few visitors it seemed, all while baking some kind of honey pastry. Each and every concern of theirs was met with reassurance, every question had a simple answer. There within her I saw the purpose of the city: to be a place of healing and peace. Vows of sobriety, working treatments for nearly every ailment, and a steadfast belief that anyone could be rehabilitated. Such an unwavering optimist, of her own skills and of people in general, that it was almost… concerning. I did not peer any further.

I meant to keep this short, I really did. However, recalling the little pleasant details before Knowing has helped me get to this point. I remember the walls and columns of the nave being a marble of some kind, streaked with silver and indigo. The natural lighting filtering in and mingling with the grey candle lights. Upon the bema towards the altar, lavish bouquets had been placed. I wish I could have enjoyed the scenery longer – I wish I could have enjoyed Addagala in general longer. However, that is not possible now. There upon the altar stood a large crystalline coffin, occupied by a giant corpse wrapped in glimmering, gossamer shrouds: their beloved monarch, the Charred Queen, seemingly at rest in eternal tranquility. And kneeling at her feet, was the fourth lady of the city: Lady Indigo, wearer of the Quiescent Mask. A face serene in sleep. She was deep in prayer, some hushed communion with the queen. Beseechments of guidance, blessings, and the like. I went to peer in to gain some more insight…

But I found nothing. Hollow. Instead, I felt a connection, a string if you will, leading back to the queen’s corpse. So I followed, and I looked within her instead.

I left the basilica hastily. Back out into the open, chilly air. Up, up, up towards the grey sun until the strange claustrophobic feeling left my chest. Having experienced similar horrors already, it should not have surprised me and I should have expected it, but as you can see  – I did not learn my lesson! After a moment to calm down, I decided to make one more investigation before leaving. Hesitantly, I stepped down onto the grounds of the garden. All around me revealed the brilliant branching life of the plants, healthy and prospering. Then… then there were the “statues”. Some brighter than others, some were dimming, but none were extinguished completely…The lucky few to receive the Queen's “blessing”, I learned : an eternal state of peace in the land of Addagala. Or at least, that's what the queen told them, the Ladies, everyone...

No. She would not rest peacefully anymore.

All it would take. Is one. Little. Push.

~~~

[wsancho]

Them FF6 Blond Shades

In the spirit of procrastination, I’ve been thinking about hair and eyes. It’s one of those things that I can’t get out of my head until I write it down somewhere (even though I don’t do art and I don’t describe jack shit when writing🤷🏻‍♀️)

In ProJared’s review of FF6, he says the sprites were created first, and that Amano used them as inspiration for his concept art. Regardless, both are canon even if contradictory, and I’d say it’s up to each to choose their preference because reasons 😌

Terra’s fandom wiki says she has green or blonde hair and green or violet eyes. I didn’t know her eye color was debatable too (but look, her hair looks greenish on the first image 😚). I like her being as otherworldly as can be, so I prefer green hair and violet eyes.

Celes and the twins have blond hair and blue eyes. The sprites and concept art gave them the same colors, and they’re so alike that some NPC mistook Celes for Sabin 🤨 (maybe those three have reality-bending levels of sexy. Just saying 🤷🏻‍♀️).

To me Celes seems paper-white-pale with light blond hair and light blue eyes.

Soraya Saga, who created the twins, noted that they have “honey-blond” hair. I was a bit apprehensive about this, but the twins’ regality is pretty heavy-handed and a shade of blond that is more golden goes along those lines. Also in Figaro, blue eyes mean royalty, but I think there’s more to this idea if we ignore that it wasn’t even canon take the parallels from Xenogears Fatima lore to complement the FF6 Figaro lore. It’s not just blue eyes, but a specific shade of blue that runs in the family. I think honey-blond hair goes nicely with a darker shade of blue eyes. So going by this, the twins’ colors would differ from Celes’.

When I learned about the “Figaro blue eyes” I also wondered if Gerad should hide his eye color (especially from Figaroan thieves), and as it turns out, his sprite has brown eyes. This could be just a lazy color swap, but I like how this can add up to the lore 🙃

For Kefka, the wiki specified blond hair and green eyes. There’s no specification for Gau, but his sprite’s eyes are green and his hair looks like Kefka’s, less yellow and more ashy than Celes’.

This Gau art has light blue eyes, so I guess that’s another possibility 🤷🏻‍♀️ There’s also the other Amano arts that show him with green hair. I like to think his hair is blond but not that clean. He’s like a sloth growing algae on his fur 😅

Locke’s colors aren’t in the wiki, but I like dark ash blond for him because it resembles his sprite. His eyes are consistently brown.

Relm and Clyde’s hair look pretty similar, somewhere between Locke’s and Kefka’s colors. I think Taylor Swift’s color could be ok for them too (more like Locke's hair).

Relm’s wiki says she has blond hair and blue eyes. Clyde’s sprite has black eyes but Shadow’s look blue, and I like her having her daddy’s eyes 🥰 (ignore that her sprite has green eyes and one Amano art gave her amber eyes).

There’s no info about Leo’s colors, but many in the fandom make him to be black. Years ago I learned about a group of dark-skinned people with blond hair known as Melanesians. Maybe Leo is one of them 😁

His sprite is white-skinned and has blue eyes, which can also be an option, but I prefer the super rare Melanesian ethnicity for him. It makes me happy 😌

Setzer is said to have silver hair and purple eyes, which probably means he’s albino. I think he uses that purple shampoo to make his yellowish/whiteish hair look silver 😌

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Scrub My Brain With Bleach - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Vi pays the price for snooping...

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

As she moves to go, her foot catches something under the desk. It's a trunk, the wooden surface scuffed by frequent use. But the design's exquisitely ornate. The lid's inset with a mosaic of mother-of-pearl. It depicts a blue-haired sprite in a grove, a green dragonfly cradled in her palms. The motif is repeated in a band around the brass rim, where the dragonflies open and close their wings, their iridescent patterns shimmering as if in flight.

It reminds Vi of the folktales of Janna, passed into her tiny ear by Mom at bedtime. How the dragonflies were Janna's eyes, their luminous wings bearing the sparks of her magic. How they flitted through the old gardens of Oshra Va'Zaun, bestowing the Goddess's favor. How, should the light catch their wings just so, they'd grant a boon on a lucky soul.

And a kiss of fortune, upon their lips.

Jinx, Vi guesses, chose the box for its whimsy as much as its utility. She's plainly taken pains to keep it tidy. Despite the scratches on the varnish, its structure is solid, and its brass lid is freshly gilded. There's a padlock, burnished to a lustrous gleam, and a keyhole in the shape of a dragonfly's thorax. The key itself is a golden cruciform dangling off the chain that seals the lock.

For a moment, Vi wonders if the trunk is, in fact, a trousseau. Jinx hardly seems the type. Her idea of wedding finery would involve explosives more than lingerie—if she bothered to put anything on at all.

And yet the possibility's not as outlandish as it'd been while Vi was knuckling sleep-crumbs from her eyes in the guestroom.

The trunk is clearly a cherished possession. Maybe Jinx keeps her favorite jewelry here. Maybe she's got a cache of special grenades. Maybe she's hiding a skeleton. Or three.

Maybe Vi's a nosy, meddling shit.

But she can't help it. The trunk's so much like the hope-chest in Caitlyn's attic. Hers was a varnished lilac beauty, lined in rose-petal velvet, and neatly packed with sentimental relics. Her grandfather's bifocals. A pearl brooch from her mother's wedding day. Her father's favorite stethoscope.

And a threadbare pair of Vi's hand-wraps folded around a wispy strip of Caitlyn's panties.

Vi has teased her mercilessly over the last item. There was something so ticklish at the idea of the prim-and-proper Caitlyn Kiramman, with her fastidious manners and her blue-blooded airs, holding her very first fuck-me panties close to her heart—much less in the love-knot of Vi's grubby bindings.

"Just a memento," Caitlyn had squirmed, flushing scarlet. "Don't let it go to your head."

Vi smirked, thoroughly enjoying the display. "My head's the last place that's going, Cupcake. Never thought my wraps would rub shoulders with you skivvies. Let alone your granny's good silver."

"Oh, shut it!" Caitlyn snapped, flushing darker still. "If you must know, they're a reminder."

"Of what? How hard I rocked your world?"

"Not... precisely. I just wanted something real. To help me remember."

Vi was confused. "Remember what? I'm right here."

"I-I know." Caitlyn's lashes dipped. "But things could have turned out differently."

"How d'you mean?"

"That night. On the Bridge. It could have gone... terribly wrong."

"Yeah," Vi admitted, quieter. "But it didn't."

"Because of you."

"Huh?"

"Because you chose to come back." Caitlyn's eyes were shining, but earnest. "You chose to come back for me."

"It's not like you gave me a choice, Cait."

"But there was a choice." The sheen faded from Caitlyn's eyes. Only the earnestness remained. "You made yours. And I made mine. And I'd never have pictured it would lead to..." She trailed off, the flush creeping higher, except now the shyness was subsumed by an almost wistful wonder. "What I'm trying to say is: I wanted to keep a part of you with me. A part that's mine, and mine alone. So that if things ever went sideways, I could always remind myself: 'Caitlyn Kiramman, you took a leap of faith once. And it was the best thing you've ever done.'"

She'd looked at Vi then, and the naked emotion in her eyes was the sweetest torture. Vi's own face flamed. She was used to being the forward one in the flirtation game. To having the upper hand. Not being the one caught flat-footed and off her game.

"That's all the bindings are," Caitlyn whispered. "A reminder. Sometimes... even the craziest leaps can lead you home."

Against her will, Vi's eyes misted.

"Crazy leap, huh?" she managed, trying to regain her bravado. "Is that all I am to you?"

In reply, Caitlyn kissed her. Vi kissed back, a little roughly, just to prove a point.

When they parted on gasps, Caitlyn was smiling.

"You are," she breathed. "And I'd have you no other way."

They'd kissed, and kissed some more, and fallen into bed. But the shocky sweetness of the confession had never left Vi.

Not since.

Vi shuts her eyes, fighting the burn of tears again. In her hands, the trunk is heavy. The weight of a past. One that doesn't belong to her, not by a long shot. Whatever's inside is meant for Jinx, and only Jinx. Vi has no right to open it. Has no right, even, to be here.

Except there's a small voice in the back of her mind.

Wait.

Jinx's past, and the future, have always been tangled. Last night, the knot pulled taut, and her sister had nearly died. Vi had been dragged into the middle of it. So had the rest of the city. Maybe there's something in here that'll clue Vi in on how to unravel the mess. To keep Jinx from repeating her mistakes. From falling into the trap of believing her greatest failure was a childhood lapse that broke everything.

Or believing her only worthy gift is the power to fix it.

Maybe, just maybe, Vi can help.

The key fits into the lock with a delicate click. It turns. The padlock springs open. Vi lifts the lid. Inside are, in fact, mementos. But they're mementos of a life Vi's never seen. An eclectic mix of salvage, toys, and tools. Broken clocks, their innards dissected. Wind-up insects, their cogs and sprockets disemboweled. Half-empty canisters of spraypaint. A small cache of fireworks. A pile of old, dog-eared children's books.

Basically: a heap of shiny.

Vi recognizes her sister's magpie habit of hoarding glitter. The junk stuffed under Powder's bed was of a similar stripe: gears from Vander's old watch, diodes from garbage chutes, fistfuls of colored glass from the arcade, and a single, shiny golden gyroscope.

Vi's fingers touch the gyroscope, and the memory strikes her like lightning.

Ekko.

This was the gyroscope he'd gifted Powder, the twilit afternoon at the reservoir. The day he'd planted a smooch on her little sister, and stirred up a shitstorm when Vi caught them in the act. The day their world, tilting at precarious angles, had not yet gone sideways.

The day is gone, but the gyroscope is here.

Carefully, Vi lifts it out. She's stunned that it's survived the transition of past to present. The gold plating is untarnished. The mechanism is well-oiled. The tiny blue marble at the center, its facets winking, is still intact. As if, throughout the years, Jinx has treasured it more than all the deadly detritus in her possession.

Vi can't fathom why.

At the very bottom is a silk pillowcase. It's stuffed with mysterious flotsam. A small silver pendant shaped like a bird, its eyes made of tiny turquoise cabochons. A set of child-sized brass knuckles, the surfaces etched with a filigree of skulls. A plastic baggie stuffed with leaves, each one browned and crinkly with age.

And—what the fuck?

The curvature of a disquietingly sleek red object with a trigger that, when clicked, sets a row of gears whirring.

It takes a moment for Vi to recognize it as a vibrator.

"Shit," she says, and drops it fast.

It clatters back into the pillowcase, whirring. Vi switches it off, and knots the top tight. Her face smarts. She can't believe her little sister has a sex-toy. One she's seemingly designed to her own specs, judging by the unusual curves and polished contours and the silent-as-fuck mechanism meant to keep her old man from finding out.

Jinx, the Daddy's Girl. Jinx, the terrorist. Jinx, the sorceress.

Who, apparently, has been getting her rocks off.

"Goddamnit," Vi mutters. "I need to scrub my brain out with bleach."

[verysium]

please write something about blue lock as cat dads, like we have cat and its batshit insane <3

my cat was furiously scratching at my bedroom door this morning, so i'm taking that as a sign to write this. here you go anon:

rin owns a void. black fur with bluish green eyes and sharp little fangs. rin adopted him as an emotional support animal after sae left for spain. his name is kuro (黑) which means "black" in japanese because the itoshis are just unoriginal with all pet names. sometimes the cat camouflages with the furniture, but rin knows its habits too well to accidentally sit on him. they have an almost telepathic bond. kuro follows a very strict routine. feeding times are 7 in the morning before rin's football practice and 6 in the evening during dinner. he is calm and quiet most of the time but hisses whenever there are birds in the window. very shy around strangers. will curl his tail around rin's leg and peek out from time to time but does not have the courage to actually approach. sometimes if rin has free time, he takes kuro out to the park and lets him chase after the butterflies. kuro is also very intelligent. knows how to unlock doors, fetch the newspaper, and clean up after using the potty. sometimes spaces out when rin watches his horror movies at night. will blink at the screen owlishly. he's not very skittish when it comes to jumpscares. he just doesn't understand what's going on in the film. his favorite time of the year is during the holidays when rin goes back to kamakura to visit his parents. mama itoshi always sneaks kuro an extra fish bone.

oliver has a cat with heterochromia. his name is björn which is swedish for bear because he is a massive maine coon. flirts with all the tabby cats in his neighborhood and purrs loudly to show off. incredibly fluffy but sheds a lot. very strong physically. one time he moved oliver's entire closet because he did not like how it was blocking his cat door. secretly the leader of a cat gang, but oliver doesn't know. pretty chill most of the time and enjoys large family gatherings. multilingual because he can respond to commands in swedish, japanese, and german. he also knows a little bit of danish. oliver taught him a few tricks as a kitten. he can twirl around, roll over, and give high-fives. despite his large size, björk is very flexible and light on his feet. one time he got into the cookie jar on the top pantry shelf, and oliver's mom had to shoo him out.

shidou has an orange cat named ryu (竜) which is an alternative form of the kanji for "dragon" (龍). it is also adapted from the first character in his name "ryusei." his cat looks exactly like how mcdonald's sprite tastes. very spicy. does not sleep at night. his business hours are from three in the morning to whenever he passes out. drifts like a literal race car and makes vrooming sound effects. ryu took one whiff of catnip as a kitten and has never been the same since. all of his toys are shredded. prefers taking the head off first. you will find cotton stuffing everywhere. he destroyed the brand new cat bed shidou got for him, so now he's been downgraded to a cardboard box. ryu is prohibited from all open windows especially the ones with pull-down blinds because he once saw a squirrel and went absolutely feral. only eats raw meat and refuses to even touch dried kibble. sits beside shidou whenever he orders yukhoe from the local korean restaurant. feasts on all the scraps.

barou has a tuxedo cat. her name is mimi, and she is the sweetest cat in existence. claws are always trimmed. licks herself clean. unusually calm at the vet and groomer and is one of the few cats who actually enjoys baths. sometimes helps barou with cleaning by catching all the dust bunnies. his apartment is also insect-free thanks to her. she is, in fact, a baddie. the tomcat next door has tried to get her attention for over a year now, but she refuses to be swayed. he gave her a dead rat once, but mimi swatted it away before telling him he better start paying some bills and look somewhat hygienic before she even looked his way. the only man in her life is barou, and it will stay that way. mimi is also a polydactyl cat, so it looks like she's wearing white mittens. sometimes barou comes home from practice exhausted and collapses face first into bed, and mimi will crawl onto his back to knead his muscles for him.

nagi has a scottish fold. she has white fur and brown eyes, hence her name yuki which is japanese for "snow." she is very similar to nagi. lazy and sleeps all day. their favorite activity together is sunbathing. eats a lot but somehow still manages to stay in shape. she often sits upright like a human and kneads the fur on her tummy. as a kitten, she mirrored nagi's actions, so he got her a mini video game controller. it doesn't actually work, but she gets to press on the buttons whenever nagi is gaming. makes her feel very involved. scientists have also classified her as a liquid. she can get herself through every nook and cranny. even the two millimeter crack under the bedroom door. her favorite place in the house is her bed. has two fluffy blankets and a teddy bear. during winter, she moves her bed closer to the heater. has unofficial beef with choki because she tried to eat him once. ended up with spines in her mouth and never touched a houseplant after that. choki still has a giant missing chunk from where his arm was bitten off.

reo has a persian cat. her royal title is kana-hime because she is a spoiled princess. she has silky fur that smells like perennial roses. has an entire room to herself and a private chef. reo has like 3134736845 pictures of her on his phone. she is even included in the holiday cards and family portrait above the fireplace mantel. her collar is made of sterling silver with a diamond in the nameplate. very coquette. pink bows are her favorite. sensitive paws so reo customized a pair of small fur booties for her. clingy and has attachment issues (just like her owner.) sometimes goes on playdates with yuki. said playdates involve yuki just sitting there while kana-hime gives her a full body grooming session and makeover.

sae owns a siamese. light blue eyes and a dark patch of fur on her face and paws. she does not have a name because sae never formally adopted her. one morning he had gone to practice and returned to a mother and her kittens on his fire escape. sae did not keep the kittens, but unfortunately the mother was very persistent, so he let her stay. despite originally being a stray, she is very clean. always licking herself and sae's hands. not very picky but has a preference for seafood, specifically surume. very productive during the day. rearranges her bed and water bowl. scratches her post five to six times. takes a daily stroll on the rooftops of madrid. she doesn't have a collar, but somehow always manages to return safely to sae's window. has an almost sixth sense when it comes to his emotions. if she senses he is tired, she will hop onto his lap and force him to lay down and give her pets. if she sees that he is stressed, she rubs her head under his chin to calm him down. probably the only emotional attachment sae has had ever since he left japan.

kaiser has a norwegian forest cat. it has golden fur, dark stripes, and blue eyes. has a little mane around his neck, so he resembles a small lion. his name is klaus. basically a mini kaiser. preens in front of the mirror every morning alongside michael. prances around as if he owns the entire establishment. bullies other cats but is scared shitless in the presence of dogs (even chihuahuas). has a little habit of gently biting kaiser's finger. not enough to draw blood but enough to leave a little imprint from his fangs. it's his way of showing love. nuzzles against kaiser's neck tattoo when he picks klaus up. a very needy baby at night. cannot sleep well in any place that is not michael's bed. needs to be tucked in like a child with his stuffed animals and blankets. ends up sleeping on kaiser's face by the time the morning rolls around. has perfect loafs, as in 11/10 if it was a competition. side-eyes ness whenever he comes to visit. extremely judgmental to the point kaiser suspects klaus must have been a human in his past life. knows how to pose for photos and even tilts his head to capture a good angle.

[ninjastar107]

You Guys are getting so much RAM!au stuff [right now].

Details and stuff under the cut!

Okay. So like, Blues definitely looked different before he died.Different hair color, different paint situation, different painted on eye color. Rock and Roll have fragmented memories of when this photo was taken.

2. Cutman can use any vaguely boomerang shaped object to cut things.

3. Yeah :)

4. Rock likes mystery novels, but not all of them make sense.. Beat.

5. sprites :>

6. She can be your angle or youyr devil

7. Bass and the eepies.

8. Bass locked the heck IN.

oh hey you made it! here some X timeline stuff!

Where do I even begin... Instead of Light making X, he also made Y (he learned that its better to make things in pairs. Plus if X truly is alone in his matrix, it'd be good to give him a friend!) (He didnt know about Zero...) Y is a mavric hunter like X!

Blues makes it to X time, if only on the merit of being obsolete. He was willingly put in a museum when Light died, and X found him in the ruins of it.

The whole thing about RAM!au is that robots are built upon the data of past robots. In this way, Wily decided that putting Bass' framework and memories into Zero was the best option for the results he wanted. In this way, Bass lives on through Zero in a sort of reincarnation kinda way. Although Zero doesn't know Blues, he can''t help but feel like they've met before...

[weirdmarioenemies]



Name: Bug Catcher

Debut: Pokemon Red/Green

Hi Everyone :3 Mod Cat Flopter here. We’re continuing to make our way through the Pokedex with Pokemon #2: Bug Catcher!

Now, strangely, Youngster is not Pokemon #1. We’ll get back to Pokemon #1 later. My mistake! We really should have started with Bug Catcher! These classic bug types have not appeared in a national dex since Gen 4. Brilliant Diamond and Shining Pearl might be the last time they appear! Wouldn’t that be such a sad end?

Bug Catcher is anearly route bug type Pokemon that first appears in Viridian Forest, with common moves being Caterpie, Weedle, Kakuna, and Metapod! This is basically the most classic Bug Catcher moveset. Particularly high level Bug Catchers will also use moves like Butterfree, Beedrill, and Venonat. Bug catcher is often seen with a white shirt and net, with blues that highlight it.

Gen 2 actually solidifies this aesthetic, using the new power of the Gamegirl Colour to give him a blue stripe on his hat.

In this generation, their move pool expands, gaining some existing moves like Venomoth and Paras, but also new moves like Araidos and Pinsir!

Moving on, Gen 3 is actually an interesting case, since Hoenn has the first regional evolution of a Pokemon. The Bug Maniac!

Bug Maniacs have the Bug Catcher aesthetic on lock, with their nice blue dress shirts and blue rimmed nets but yellow khaki hats and pants as well as white socks and net. The gleam in their glasses is similar to bug eyes, which is a nice touch, and they of course use more powerful moves. As we all know, autistic little boys get more powerful when they become autistic young men.

Bug Catcher’s movepool is changed almost completely in this generation, using things like Nincada, Dustox, and Ninjask, while Bug Maniacs favor Sirskit, Masquren, and Beautifly! As we all know, autistic little boys become water dual typed when they become autistic young men.

Now, onto the fourth gen!

This is clearly the highest fidelity sprite of Bug Catchers and drops blue in favor of green in their design, which is very interesting. In the last iteration of the Bug Catcher, they decided to drop the water type foreshadowing altogether… which makes sense, because Bug Maniacs did not make the jump! In this generation, their move pool remains nearly the same as gen 3, but they also learn Kricketot at a fairly low level and Kricketune at a higher one. You could tell, though, that Bug Catcher had fallen out of favor with the devs- In Sinnoh, you can only catch them in two spots (Route 204 and Eterna Forest) compared to early Kanto, where you can catch them in Viridian Forest, Route 2, Route 3, Mt. Moon, and others!

It’s very sad that Bug Catcher has fallen by the wayside. Pokemon was originally inspired by bug catching, so the fact that Bug Catcher has been out of the series for almost 15 years is genuinely tragic to me, and having grown up on gen 3 and 4 games, it was a big part of what pokemon WAS to me, even more than other iconic characters like Youngster and Hiker.

I’ll miss its time in the regional dex, but much like its enigmatic bug type move “Venonat” I’m sure it’ll be in a new game someday. See you next time :3