#non-binary oc

[lifeonthemurdersim]

"You had my heart..."

I always associate this song with Law and my OC Hope in a slightly unserious sense, and it's not solely for the joke about Law's "interests", it's also because Hope does quite literally come back to life through looping through time, plus it's just a little fucked up like them. 😅 This part really does fit them though. 💙💛

Alt version that's more in line with my original idea below the cut.

This is how I headcanon colour appearing in The River. I also tried giving them both antlers matching their eye glow but I wasn't keen on it, I have a future piece it might fit better. I always imagine Lawrence with White-tailed deer(native to Canada) antlers turned backwards(not sane) and Hope with Roe deer(native to England) antlers the normal way around(sane).

Anyway, originally I thought the lyrics were a good representation of their reunion there, but I became attached to the colour version and it got me thinking maybe it fits their eventual reunion in the real world even better. They would have a lot to get over to make it work...

The song is A Little Piece Of Heaven by Avenged Sevenfold for those who don't know it.

[copiousloverofcopia]

❤️‍🔥😈 Hey hey Ghesties! 😈❤️‍🔥

Here is a commission piece for the awesome Baphometmoth on AO3, featuring their OC Ian and our beloved gremlin Dew! Thank you so much for allowing me to write for you! I hope you all enjoy!!!

Play Nice

Ian and Dew have a hot/cold relationship. What happens when Dew's carnal pursuits are relentless?

Also available HERE on AO3!

Definitely NSFW below the cut!!

Even for Dew, he had been even more insufferable all day. That damned sexy, pale-skinned ghoul, with his unfairly long luscious flaxen blonde hair. Making a point to drive Ian absolutely insane, taunting his lover at every turn. First with the suggestive sway of his pelvis then it was the licking of his lips, and finally him making the obscenest noises he could think of as he passed Ian in the corridor. The devious little gremlin, doing everything short of dragging Ian off to an alcove to fuck them senseless. 

“Dew! Back off, I have things to do!” Ian barked at him. Dew, completely unphased. He knew that deep down; Ian was just as hot for him as he was for them. 

“Aww come on, don't be such a little bitch about it doll. Those things will just have to wait.” Dew winked, continuing to follow Ian throughout the Abbey. Trailing after them, like some sort of horny hellhound, at each and every task on Ian’s agenda. Though they had tried their best to stave off Dew’s advances, by midafternoon, Ian could no longer withstand his teasing. All it took was one more lewd gesture, Dew’s tongue wiggling between two fingers, and they were off. 

The two of them, tangling themselves together in kisses and heavy petting as they made their way through the Abbey. Somehow ending up in the siblings' dorm, crashing through Ian’s door.

Dew flopped on the bed, tossing Ian’s prized stuffed tiger over to the chair and patting the empty spot he had cleared off beside him. “Come on baby, don’t know how much longer I can wait.” the ghoul purred. 

“Is that so?” Ian asked, their eyebrow perked up in skepticism. Dew’s tail swayed behind him, his eyes glowing as Ian approached. Biting his lower lip in anticipation. His cock, bulging painfully against his pants as Ian crawled onto the bed.  

Though it still irritated them, Ian too was ready. The space between their thighs, already aching—dripping. All at the thought of being taken by him. Dew’s impressive size and ability to use it, never having disappointed. 

The smug ghoul had always found a way to hit the most sensitive spots inside them. Ones that would send Ian over effortlessly. The two of them, never having a session without them both leaving sticky and breathless. 

Dew lowered his gaze over Ian’s body. The scent of their arousal filling his nostrils as he grunted with anticipation. Slowly bringing his eyes slowly up until they met with Ian’s—entranced by their vibrant violet hue. Ian tugged hard at Dew’s pants. Yanking them off as his cock sprung up fast from beneath them. 

“Fuck, be gentle with the merchandise you brat!” Dew growled at the graze of rough jean material against his shaft. Ian chuckled, it was always amusing and a bit of a turn on, to see Dew in a submissive state. The normally dominant ghoul left to abide by Ian’s every whim. Dew grunting as he grabbed Ian’s brown locks. Forcing their head down towards his swollen cock.  

“Dew! Too fucking hard, you little shit you're gonna yank my hair out!” Ian yelped, sending a smack across Dew’s upper thigh. The ghoul, snarling as the sting hit him. Already desperate to feel Ian around him. Ready for the formalities to be over so he could sink inside them. 

“I need that mouth sweetheart…and now.” he groaned, shifting his hips up so Ian would get the hint. As if the rapid slam down towards his crotch hadn’t already given it away.

“Play nice or you’ll get nothing.” Ian smirked, slowly allowing their fingers to travel along Dew’s thighs. Scratching lines from his knees to the point where his legs met with his groin. Eventually taking hold of Dew’s cock. Slowly stroking him, Dew’s head falling back in pleasure. 

He is so sexy like this , Ian mused. Nibbling a bit on his head before licking all around his shaft. Teasing his cock with the soft wetness of their mouth before allowing Dew’s cock to slide into the back of their throat. 

“Mmm…” Ian hummed; eyes closed gently as they sucked fervently from root to tip. The ghoul, completely at their mercy. Clawing up the sheets as he reveled in the tight, wet pressure of Ian’s mouth around him. Slurping and swirling around his shaft as Ian’s head bobbed up and down. 

“Ah fuck yes!” Dew howled, gripping tight to Ian’s hair once more. Forcing their head down to where Ian’s mouth rested all the way against Dew’s pelvis. Gagging Ian a bit before they rose up in a fury. 

“DEEEW!” Ian yelped, muffled with the ghouls cock still partially in their mouth. Dew realized he had gone too far. Pulling Ian off him and bringing his lover up to face him. Locking their lips together once more. 

“I’m sorry Princess… guess I got carried away.” Dew shrugged, feeling a bit of remorse but knowing full well he was bullshitting them about it being accidental. 

“Uh huh.” Ian hummed, completely unconvinced. As infuriating as it could be, there was something about their ghoul lover that Ian just couldn’t get enough of. Despite all his flaws and his boundary issues, he was like a craving, never satisfied. Ian absolutely loved him and nothing was going to change that.

“I mean it.” the ghoul maintained. Ian smiled back at him. Bringing their lips inches away from his when Dew began to peck at their mouth—tasting and licking.

“Show me just how bad you feel then.” Ian commanded, pulling back in breathy lust. A sound and sight that excited the fire ghoul down to his core. Cock twitching with their words, Dew flipped Ian onto the bed, hovering over them. Hungry and determined. 

“With pleasure.” he growled, stripping away the remainder of Ian’s clothes with ease. Drinking in the sight of their lush naked body as each part became revealed to him. Inhaling Ian’s scent deeply as Dew’s fingers quickly rushed to their core. 

“Oh fuck!” Ian cried out, their hand’s flying up to muffle their sounds. Already Dew’s skillful fingers, finding the entrance with ease. Pushing into Ian’s dripping folds and curling up into the soft, spongy flesh of their cunt—pressing, rubbing intensely. 

“That's right sweetheart. Don’t stop, I wanna hear those cute little moans while I fuck you with these claws.” he groaned. Delighting in the look on Ian’s face, contorted in pleasure as he continued to work his fingers inside them. 

“I—I” Ian stuttered trying their best to speak, but to overcome with the building sensations inside them. An orgasm, quickly descending and a rush of warm fluid painting the inside of their thighs. Dew, pulling out his fingers to fuck each and every one free of the fluid before taking hold of Ian’s thighs. Biting along the inner side as he brought his head down between them. Quickly adding his slithering tongue to the mix. Gliding across Ian’s swollen little bud with intention. Lapping and moaning, the vibrations from Dew’s sounds sending Ian over once more. “Oh shit! I’m cumming again!” 

“Fuck yeah you are.” the ghoul smugly agreed, allowing Ian to ride out the last moments of their orgasm before abruptly turning them over. Lifting Ian up onto their knees before sinking his fangs into the delicate flesh of Ian’s shoulder. 

The ghoul’s mouth, filling with the intense taste of iron and salt from Ian’s sweat. A taste he’d never tire of. Ian writhing against his hold as Dew licked up the remains of the blood. “Ah!” Ian called out, dizzy with pleasure they allowed themselves to fall forwards onto their knees. 

Dew wasted no time, taking the welcome opportunity to line the head of his cock up with Ian’s slit. Kissing at their folds as he teased them with his reddened tip. Enjoying the sounds of Ian’s whines and desperation. 

“Oh sweet Satan Dew just fuck me already!” Ian begged, breathy and hot. Looking over their shoulder at the more than willing hell spawn. Toothy-grinned and blazing hot eyes, ready to plunge himself deep inside them. 

“You won't have to tell me twice baby.” Dew hummed as he pushed himself full force inside them. His cock, spreading Ian out wide. The fleshy walls of their cunt, tightly pressing him on all sides. Both of them, letting out a strangled moan before going slack jawed. Dew, beginning to draw back, only to thrust inside deeper this time. 

“Ah! Yes! Yes! Right fucking there!” Ian screamed as Dew continued to pump inside them. Bucking up hard and fast into the deepest parts of Ian’s cunt. Pounding so hard against their ass that he was sure to leave bruises. Little purple and blue symbols of his lust for them, as Ian’s pelvis continued bouncing off him. 

The pleasure was so intense that Ian had begun to cry, overwhelmed with the sweet depth Dew was reaching. The sheer pleasure and pain of it all, sending them over to yet another climax as Dew brought his claws around Ian’s neck. Holding tight to their throat as Ian pressed their ass up hard against him, Dew fucking into them harder and harder with every thrust. 

“I'm gonna cum in that tight little pussy and you're gonna like every single second of it.” Dew hissed, feeling his own orgasm building. Teeth clenched as he brought his hands down to Ian’s hips. Claws digging into them as he gripped on tightly to maintain his stride. His cock bouncing off Ian’s most sensitive spots. 

Ian was a mess of cum and sweat. Unsure if their body could go on, they felt the telltale signs once more. Walls of plush flush, trying to hold the thick ghoul’s cock inside them. Even Ian’s body could tell he was ready to cum and that alone made them cum again. 

“Fuck!” Dew roared, feeling Ian clamp down on him. Dew’s hot seed spilling deep inside his lover as their own orgasm milked his cock for every drop. The ghoul, snarling and hissing. His tail snapping back and forth and then in a straight line as he emptied himself out. The gush of fluid made between them, beginning to drip down the inside of Ian’s legs.

“Oh fuck me.” Ian sighed, panting hard as they returned to a post orgasmic clarity. 

“I just did.” Dew giggled, Ian swatting at his smart mouth remarked as the two of them collapsed together on the bed.  

“Shhh… I love you so much, you big dummy.” Ian said as they turned behind to kiss Dew. The ghoul, wrapping his tail around Ian’s leg and pulling them tightly against his chest. 

“I love you too.”

[r3d-f0xs-blog]

Bright and Sparkling ✨️

Thanks for the finished commission @elvenbeard of Charlie. I love it. 🦄💖

[shivering-isles-cryptid]

Monster High OC: Basil Gorgon, bio under the cut

Basil Gorgon

They/Them

Son of Euryale

Age: 17

Killer Style: Gordy Glowwave. I love bright colors and neon and I want everyone to see how bright I glow!

Freaky Flaw: I struggle to hide my emotions. I hiss when I’m angry, flick my tongue when I’m happy, pace when I’m excited, and yell when I’m scared.

Pet: I have a Pegasus back home in Hissily, Italy named Pythia.

Favorite activity: I love to dance! I have a lot of energy when I'm excited so dancing gives me something to do.

Bigger pet peeve: Pessimists and buzzkills. I’m not naive for having fun and seeing the bright side.

Favorite school subject: Music. Music and dance helps people shed their skin and let their true selves out.

Least favorite subject: History. Sitting in one seat as someone rants for an hour isn’t what I’d call stimulating.

Favorite color: Neon blue and purple

Favorite food: My mom is a professional chef, so I’m a rather picky eater, but my favorite is Tusk-an Rabbit Ragu.

[green-crow]

Day three down and it's not even 10pm, this is a new record for me (I'm slow as fuck). Honestly this pair makes me feel so comfortable and cozy, while Viggo is my number 1 husband Leshy is no doubt my safe space, and writing about Leshy/Nic (Nishy) is always a nice way to destress. It also helps I don't take it too serious and just let myself have fun, no expectations. Love these two. Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Day 3: Acts of Service

Fandom: Inscryption

Summary: "With Leshy being away for a few days, Nic finds themselves very annoyed by the different parts of the cabin and decides to take matters into their own hands."

Rating: General Audiences

Word count: 1388

Characters: Leshy (Inscryption), Nic (OC)

Pairing: Leshy (Inscryption)/Nic (OC), OC/Canon

The harsh cold chilled Nic’s spine when the wind bit down on their fur. The satyr quickly closed the nearby window yet again, an annoyed frown on their face. That thing had been opening whenever it felt like lately despite their best attempts to fix it. How was it possible that after years of working for PO3 at the factory, they couldn’t even repair a stupid window? With a small huff, they returned to what they were doing before the window distracted them—only to trip over a loose wood panel on the floor. Nic grunted and stomped on the floorboard, tired of that cabin and all its quirks. That place was falling apart faster with each passing day and adding more repairs to Nic’s to-do lists. The young satyr was ready to just burn the whole thing down. But, of course, they couldn’t. Leshy had given them the task to merely survive for the week while he was gone for some “important scrybe business”, and even then, he had mentioned it as if Nic was a little fawn too delicate to achieve even that little. They could take care of themselves, and they would show that old man what else they were capable of. 

It had started as a temporary solution, a way for Nic to overcome their boredom as they sat alone in the lonely cabin and get rid of those pesky annoyances that had been bothering them for a while now. But it had soon become a personal challenge. With each job they got done, the young satyr found yet another problem waiting to be fixed. If the forest hadn’t proven so dangerous without Leshy by their side, the young satyr would have gone out already to look for Rebecha and ask for help. Not that they needed any. Nic had everything under control. Absolutely everything. If an old, rusty satyr like Leshy could manage, so could they. So, they got back to work and grabbed the few tools they had found in the cabin. 

After days of intense, frustrating work and hours of working on task after task, Nic could finally rest easy knowing the cabin had been completely fixed. The young satyr sat before the fireplace, ears dropped, the few remaining logs becoming ash little by little as the fire crackled. They slouched and cracked their back, returning to the worst possible position for their body immediately. The familiar soreness and mind fogginess they were experiencing were almost comforting, in an odd way. They reminded the young satyr of their days back at the factory when they bent over backward just to please their previous boss. Sometimes, they found themselves missing those times —the praise whenever they overcame a challenge, the way others looked up to them, PO3’s constant extra challenges that the then human thought of as prizes instead of seeing them for what they were, their mentor taking advantage of their intelligence. Nic knew they didn’t miss the factory or even that cocky robot they used to idolize, but rather the feeling of being helpful to those they appreciated. Of solving others' problems and thus making their lives easier. 

Grabbing the iron poker, the satyr stoked the fire carefully. Leshy wouldn’t take too long to return, and Nic wanted to see the look on the old scrybe’s face when they saw all their handiwork. Their doe tail started wagging involuntarily. Would he like the changes Nic had put so much effort on? Would he be impressed? Proud even? They could feel their cheeks growing warmer at the thought of Leshy rewarding them for a job well done, and a strange feeling settled on their chest when they pictured the tired scrybe getting back to the cabin only to find all his problems taken care of. Maybe he’d pet them with a smile, letting them see those cute crinkles around h is eyes—

Nic blinked. No. No, they didn’t just think of Leshy as cute. That thought did not cross their mind at all. Of course not. That was ridiculous. They absolutely did not want to get pet by the scrybe, let alone see that smile, just as Nic hadn’t been thinking about how much rest Leshy would get whenever they finished a new task. Why would they care? They didn’t. Plain and simple. The scrybe of the beasts had been maybe helpful and sometimes even not entirely unbearable, but that was it. Surely, those reactions and thoughts had been caused by… By tiredness, yes. That must have been it. Nic was so tired they were delusional. That must have been the only reasonable explanation. 

So, with that in mind, the young satyr grabbed a pelt from the pile on the bed and lay back down in front of the fireplace, deciding to take a quick nap to recover and forget all about Leshy’s not-adorable self. 

As the sky turned pink at sunset, the cabin door creaked open, letting out a gust of wind into the warm, wooden house. After closing the door, the scrybe of the beast let out a sigh as the warmth gently enveloped him, crawling underneath his cloak. It was such a comforting sensation compared to walking through the snow for hours, so much so it almost helped him forget all about how annoying that egocentric computer was. Almost. Leshy was sure it had scheduled that meeting at Botopia just to make him walk further than usual and spite him. Regardless, the meeting had given the scrybe much to ponder. With his mind filled with questions, the old satyr stepped towards the fireplace but soon stopped as he noticed a bulk of fur already lying in front of it. His tail softly swung from side to side, and his lips curled into a small smile. Nic had fallen asleep. The small satyr had a tendency to fall asleep anywhere but in their bed, so this didn’t surprise him much. Either way, he let them rest —he wasn’t up to having yet another argument with the little fawn to make them return to bed. Amused, he shook his head and instead turned towards the kitchen, meaning to prepare dinner for himself. Yet something felt off as he took a step. With his hoove, he stepped on the floor once more, then again, then one last time. The floor did not creak underneath his weight. Confused, the older satyr looked at the sleeping fawn and then back at his floor. 

Now that he looked at it carefully, he noticed some clear signs that someone had made an effort to replace the board. Some minor scratches around the adjacent planks, a few shiny screws standing out amongst the old, rusty ones, and remnants of sawdust on the floor were the main tells. His ears went up in surprise, and this find soon led to a whole treasure hunt around his cabin. The broken window, the uneven chair, those broken fishing nets… Even his cuckoo clock now worked properly. The elder satyr tapped on the wooden timepiece, impressed by Nic’s skills. He couldn’t help but wonder what had led the resourceful satyr to take on such a challenge in his absence, yet Leshy suspected there was a reason they probably would hate. Unfortunately for Nic, Leshy knew they were warming up to him. Gone was the skittish creature who had reluctantly come to his forest for help, the same one who, just like a cornered wild animal, tended to bite the hand that fed them over and over again. Instead, now they were capable, hot-headed satyr that had learned to trust the scrybe with time. He had noticed, of course. The way they sometimes lit up the fireplace when they saw Leshy shiver, how they cooked for them both rather than just themselves every once in a while, even going as far as asking him if they could play together his beloved card game. 

The old scrybe grabbed another pelt and gently put it over the little fawn’s sleeping form, watching their chest rise and fall with their breathing. Nic would never admit it, but Leshy knew they had come to feel some sort of affection for him. No matter how cold and reserved they acted, how rude the young satyr could be at times… Nic’s actions spoke loud enough for him.

[vampirescones]

Avery

[sleepy-bi666]

Hurtcember day 12

---

Oakley blinks her eyes open, not shocked to have fainted.

Her spouse Fennel kneels in front of her. "You scared me, darling." they say. "Are you okay?"

"Just dizzy." Oakley says, taking her time to gain her bearings.

"Do you need your meds?" Fennel asks gently.

"No, I think I'm okay. Just give me a minute," Oakley says, knowing how worried her love was whenever she fainted.

"If you're sure..." Fennel says.

Oakley smiles encouragingly at her spouse, before she slowly gets up.

"You'll tell me if something's wrong, won't you?" Fennel asks worriedly.

"Of course, amor." Oakley says softly.

[narutardad]

[eueuesart]

Cmon man put them down

[overlordzeffeero]

Shylae Bio

Bio complimented by Kreeya's and Karia's.

Another Kreeyan created by the late Queen Kreeya. Like most of their sisters, Shylae was taught since their creation to obey their mother and fulfill the design she had prepared for them all. They were meant to be a servant and soldier of the great Queen Kreeya for the rest of their existence.

Shylae initially adapted very well to the purpose they had been given, growing to become quite an excellent warrior. They bonded especially with one of their sisters, Karia, training and fighting alongside her most of the time. Both of them made for a great team, and it’s sure to say Shylae greatly misses being alongside Karia nowadays.

When Kreeya tried to take her first step to build the glorious Empire of all realms she fantasized with by declaring Mortal Kombat against an Outworld weakened by the failed first invasion of Edenia, Shylae and the rest of the Kreeyans did what they had been taught to do all their life, following her orders with no question… at least until she revealed her true colors to them. Their mother had always been strict, demanding and unforgiving, but once the Elder Gods stopped limiting her, she started to apply more severe methods for failure. Death threats and cruel punishments for failure became common. It was Kreeya’s way of ‘disciplining’ them. 

Shylae themself was victim of it from time to time, especially since they dared to confront their mother sometimes, frustrated by how they saw their sisters suffering around them. One time in particular, after Outworld’s invasion of Fabir started due to them losing ten tournaments, Shylae was pretty sure Kreeya would have killed them during one of those confrontations, had it not been for Karia stepping in to defend them. Needless to say, these events made them hate their mother deeply, enough for siding with Karia when she decided to betray her and made a deal with General Reiko to ensure the Kreeyans a good place in Outworld’s Empire.

Shylae and their sisters now had to adapt to living in a new realm, with the purpose they had been imposed from creation gone. This had made many of them feel empty, directionless, a feeling which was especially strong in Shylae. They would start a journey of self-discovery from that moment on while living in Outworld.

First of all, they were able to learn more about the concept of gender. It was a concept they had known of, but had never been able to learn much of. Now living in a realm with all kinds of people, they were able to learn everything about it, which allowed them to discover what they really were. They weren’t actually a woman, nor a man, but something different. They are really glad they could figure that out.

And then, there was the question of their new purpose. Initially, Shylae tried to follow Karia in serving the Kahn Guard, since they wished to always be alongside their sister, but they couldn’t take it for long. Being part of it reminded Shylae of their previous life. After all, they were in the same exact situation, serving a cruel tyrant fulfilling his megalomaniac dreams. They wouldn’t go through that, not again. They decided to go back to serving as a soldier of Fabir which, while wouldn’t prevent them from taking part in Outworld’s conquests (since no one under Shao Kahn’s rule had a choice), at least would allow them to be less directly involved in them. 

Shylae told Karia of their decision, and also tried to make Karia follow them, telling her of their feelings and how they thought she was just repeating a cycle. While Karia respected their decision, she refused to change her mind. She would keep clinging to the chance of fulfilling something similar to the purpose she was created for, to fight for the creation of a glorious, unbeatable Empire through all realms. That was what made them inevitably grow apart.

For centuries, Shylae would have to keep serving Outworld’s Empire alongside their sisters, growing frustrated over it but being powerless to do anything. That was until they heard about the wallen city of Lei Chen being declared Seidan territory, with anyone under Shao Kahn’s reign being forbidden from entering the city. The Emperor of Outworld didn’t wish to get in conflict with Seido yet, and thus allowed them to keep their control over the city for the time being. Shylae saw a chance to escape Outworld’s Empire right there.

They offered some of their sisters a chance to follow them, but they all refused, either fearing the possible consequences or simply not wishing to get away from what was, with all its flaws, their new home in Outworld. They understood all of them, but still had no doubt about their own decision.

Shylae ran away from their territory and established themself in Lei Chen, something which was possible thanks to the Seidans welcoming outsiders as far as they compromised to familiarize themself with their laws and respect them. Given how strict Seidan laws are, it has been hard to follow them for Shylae, but they have found it worth adapting after many years. While her new home is still far from perfect, for the first time in their life they can be a simple citizen with a quiet life instead of a warrior, and that’s what really matters to them.

Shylae has currently found her favored profession as a botanist, quite appreciated by Lei Chen’s gardeners for their knowledge of magic capable of making plants grow in ideal conditions. This is the profession they discovered suited them after being able to enjoy a calm life, which fills them with joy.

Despite their current life, Shylae is no fool. They remember where they live, a realm whose ruler constantly seeks conflict, with most of their sisters still involved in it to their worry. They know they may inevitably have to get themself involved in conflict sooner or later, and they are ready for it, even if just keeping a shield from their old days in the Kreeyan army in case they need it for self-defense. They just pray for the day in which that must happen to be delayed as much as it can, to keep enjoying the peaceful life they enjoy so much for as long as they can…

And here's my most recent OC, hopefully a good addition to my Kreeyan cast! 🔥

Their original colors were given after the non-binary flag, which I ended up changing feeling it may be too 'on the nose' (?) A friend has told me I was being silly about that and that they looked good with purple, but I like them also with red, so have both! ❤️💜

[unfriendly-toyz]

Daliah and their pet at the pool! I'm currently working on a comic including them now.

[snipdoodle]

who up cat today

[queenie-the-court-jester]

Yandere farm x farmhand reader 🌾

A/n: this contains few nsfw mentions, mdni please! They're not all that yandere, just a bunch of dumb silly hybrids trying to catch their favorite humans attention. This is their intro

✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙

★yandere farm x farmhand reader. I know this isn't original, but I always love the concept. Just minding your business, sweaty and hot from the sun, when suddenly a certain German Shepard hybrid starts sniffing you up and down, lapping up your sweaty skin and grinning when you swat him away. How did you end up here?

★maybe you came here for a summer job, maybe some relatives owned the farm, maybe you were always working here. Either way, it doesn't take long for the hybrids to notice you once you arrive.

★the bulls and cows watching curiously from the fields, the centaurs trying to peek from their stables, the merfolk living in the lake just down the property poke their little heads out. The dogs barking from their Little homes, and the cats watching from the windows. You couldn't help but gawk at the variety of hybrids, there were so many! Merfolk, avians, cattle, cats, dogs.

★your first week there was nice, the other farmhands were nice, and the owners were so sweet! Always speaking fondly of their pets, the old couple would watch them run in the field or play by the lake. You yourself found them a little annoying. Always sniffing, grabbing, nipping at your clothes. You've had to fight your overall bottoms free from one of the pooches one too many times. The cats were no better.

★your second week you meet the cattle and centaurs. And unlike the house cats and guard dogs, they're less handsy. Simply observing from afar. Occasionally sniffing you before nodding their heads and pulling away. Letting you do your job of combing, cleaning and fixing up them and their stables. The cattle would happily let you milk them, applying the breast pumps to the females and a cock pump to the males. You ignored how they looked at you strangely during milkings

★the third week you meet the avians. Odd little bunch, hopping around and puffing up their chests. They watched you enter their enclosure curiously, you were busy picking up their molten feathers because you thought they were pretty. So bright and colorful! Walking around bent over a little when you finally notice the peacock male standing right Infront of you. He gave you a pointed look before his tail feathers expanded. Looking prideful, tilting his chin up as if in an arrogant way. Swaying side to side and closer to you, while you just held the feathers in your hands, a little confused. He got closer until he let out an incredibly loud squawk. Turning around abruptly to glare at the cuckoo who bent down to poke his butt. The cuckoo gave you a grin before climbing back up the tree, using this time as distraction, you quickly escaped.

★on the fourth week, you meet the merfolk. Having been here a month, they were eager to meet you. Watching you walk on the dock with fish feed, eagerly Perking up and swimming closer. You shook out a good handful and chucked it out for the koi fish to eat. They swarmed the area until all the food was gone, simply staring up at you. One poked her head out, tilting it a bit and making a 'click' sound with her tongue. You mimicked her, doing the same. She seemed elated, making various whistles and clicks, splashing up and down the lake. The lake was manmade and filled with koi fish when it was finished, but then again there may be more fish not even the owners know about since it was so deep. How'd they get in there? You're not sure, but you just know it.

★on the fifth week your owners told you about how they had bought multiple sheep, and goats. One male for each group. Watching the loading truck approach the little barn they were finished building. So that's why it was there, they started construction when you arrived the first week. You helped the other farmhands get them situated, at first they were rowdy and a little aggressive but for some reason calmed down when you approached them. Your colleagues now called you the sheep whisperer. You quickly learned how to shave their wool and milk the goats properly. Sometimes braiding their long hair, you just wish the ram would stop headbutting the nearest male colleague for your attention.

★On your sixth week, you went for a walk in the forest when suddenly a little body of fluffy fur tackled you, growling with it's teeth barred. You looked up to see a Pomeranian hybrid, trying it's best to look intimidating. Their fluffy tail gave them away, it was wagging 100mph. They visibly deflated when you reached up a hand to pet them, letting you for A couple minutes before getting off. Walking back into the woods towards three wolves. Dissapearing with them. Not soon after you found a friendly garden naga. Just lounging on a rock and enjoying the sun. You asked to join and they let you, laying there for a good while until you had to go back to the farm. Noticing they had wrapped their tail around you, oh boy. It'll take a good while to get out. Welp, might as well make yourself comfortable and wait for the dogs to come find you

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

HYBRIDS AND THEIR NAMES:

Week one, cats and dogs;

Brutus, dog hybrid, 18, German Shepard, he/him

Dolly, dog hybrid, 26, doberman, she/her

bladviba, dog hybrid, 25, black Russian terrier, he/him

Molly, dog hybrid, 17, chow chow, she/her

Sweet pea, dog hybrid, 17, samoyed, they/them amab

bubba, dog hybrid, 37, borzoi, he/him

Princess, cat hybrid, 18, ragdoll, she/her

Prince, cat hybrid, 19, Norwegian forest cat, he/him

King, cat hybrid, 27, Khao manee, he/him

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

Second week, cattle and centaurs;

Miss bené, cow hybrid, 49, white park cattle, she/her

Miss blackberry, cow hybrid, 22, Aberdeen Angus, she/her

Miss Polly, cow hybrid, 26, Aberdeen Angus, she/her

Miss frufru, cow hybrid, 28, Aberdeen Angus, she/her

Miss Vivian, cow hybrid, 35, Aberdeen Angus, she/her

Big daddy, bull hybrid, 52, Aberdeen Angus, he/him

Johnny, bull hybrid, 18, Aberdeen Angus/white park cattle, he/him

Jacqueline, centaur, 19, shire horse, she/her

Timothy, centaur, 21, galineers cob, he/him

maya, centaur, 17, fjord horse, they/them

Casper, centaur, 23, ardennais, he/him

miguel, centaur, 18, Andalusian horse, he/him

harmony, centaur, 25, Breton horse, they/them

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

third week, avians;

Sydney, avian, 22, cockatoo, they/he

Evangeline, avian, 19, peacock, she/her

Gabriel, avian, 20, peacock, he/him

fajarah, avian, 24, indian ring necked parakeet, she/her

Foolish, avian, 26, owl finch, he/him

simon, avian, 28, tyto alba, he/him

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

Fourth week, merfok;

tancho, koi fish merfolk, 19, tancho koi, he/him

kiko, koi fish merfolk, 19, kikokuryu koi, she/her

hime, koi fish merfolk, 19, hirenaga koi, she/her

Tsu, koi fish merfolk, 19, doitsu koi, they/them

koromo, koi fish merfolk, 19, koromo koi, he/him

Mason, lake 'monster' (crocodile), 20, freshwater crocodile, he/him

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

Fifth week, goats and sheep;

Sally, goat, 25, angora goat, she/her

Opal, goat, 24, Tennessee fainting goat, she/her

Sasha, goat, 26, australian cashmere goat, she/her

kim, ram, 23, dutch landrace goat, he/him

Poka, sheep, 19, Valais black nose, they/them

Juniper, sheep, Valais black nose, she/her

violet, sheep, 18, harri, she/her

azucar, sheep, 17, Columbia sheep, she/her

Wehrner, ram, 21, American black belly, he/him

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

Sixth week, the forest creatures:

roxy, wolf hybrid, 19, grey wolf, she/her

Silas, wolf hybrid, 21, grey wolf, he/him

Milo, wolf hybrid, 20, albino Grey wolf, they/them

Kiki, dog hybrid, 18, Pomeranian, they/them

Coachella, naga, 27, garden snake, they/him

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

[green-crow]

. Starting off very well with the challenge yesterday I completely forgot to share that I'm posting each day in AO3! I also forgot to share yesterday's entry here, so, I'm gonna leave both the link and the entry now:

Day 2: Apple scent

Nic was hungry. Starving, more precisely. They held their stomach tightly, their fingernails digging into their exposed flesh as they stumbled around the forest in a desperate search for something, anything to put into their mouth. PO3 had always fed the now-satyr; as long as they worked in the factory their plates were full and wallets… not as full, but still with enough foils to afford some extra meals here and there if needed. But it wasn't like the machine had done it out of the kindness of its cold, robotic heart, no. Instead, it had been to keep Nic alive, a way to ensure its precious resource didn't expire. A minor inconvenience the scrybe of technology had been willing to stand to assure its biological helper didn't run away so it could keep exploding Nic.

But now? Nic knew there was no coming back to the factory, no pleading with that insensible metal box to take them back. It wasn’t like it would have greeted them with open arms anyway. As they walked, Nic tripped over something, and too weak to react in time, they collapsed on the ground with a thud. Groaning, the satyr sat up, carefully examining their foo- hoove to check for any visible injury. They felt a wave of relief wash over them as both their hooves seemed and felt unharmed, soon overshadowed by a piercing stab of hunger in their belly. Nic curled up, clutching their abdomen and muttering an array of curses.

Regardless, they got up once more. The hunger was stubborn, but so was Nic.

Their eyes scouted the area in search of anything remotely edible, occasionally glancing down at the uneven terrain. “Your legs are skinny and weak. They lack proper muscles. You must eat and walk more”, Leshy had told them not too long ago. At the time, Nic had merely scoffed —as if that old bunch of twigs and leaves knew what he was saying. The problem wasn't their “lack of musculature” or diet; it was that their human legs were gone, replaced by those stupid satyr ones. “Stupid satyr legs, stupid new body, stupid PO3, stupid fore-” their mumbling trailed off as they spotted something. Hidden in between some bushes, the satyr managed to spot a glimpse of a reddish colour in between the foliage. Their ears went up instinctually as if checking their surroundings before hesitantly approaching the bush. Berries. Those were actual berries.

Something within them rattled with hesitation, as if warning the brain not to proceed. But hunger overrode caution. They lunged themselves towards the bush in a starving frenzy, rashly yanking the small red globes from the bush and shoving them into their mouth. For a few blissful seconds, relief washed over their body. It seemed too good to be true—and it was. A bitter, vile taste flooded their mouth as soon as they started chewing on the strange berries. Nic’s fur spiked up, their nose scrunched in disgust, their ears pointing downwards. Gagging, the satyr quickly spat out the berries, coughing out any bits that could have gone down their throat. Their stomach growled harsher than before, making Nic bend over in pain. The promise of food and the sudden lack of one had only made matters worse; it felt like the woods were teasing them, mocking them. A few tears threatened to appear in Nic’s eyes, but they refused to let them fall. They would not cry. They would not let that weak, imperfect, organic forest win. Nic was better. Nic would not succumb like all those beasts around them; Nic was NOT one of those beasts! 

A maelstrom of emotions filled Nic’s mind—frustration, exhaustion, anger, resentment. They couldn’t bear it any longer, and against their better judgment, they let out a primal yell as they stomped on the damned bush. Hidden spines retaliated, attaching themselves to the satyr’s fur, but this only fueled their anger. It only made them want to destroy every single thing that resided in that forest even more. Their hooves went down with crushing force on the plant, the few remaining berries getting squashed on the ground and leaving sticky, crimson sap on the dirt. They grunted and huffed as they used all their remaining strengths to take revenge on the bush. 

Minutes later, Nic stood panting for air, famished, and with those wretched spines still clinging to their legs and lodged in between their hooves. Their breath was ragged, the stinging aftertaste of the berries remaining in the back of their mouth as bile threatened to rise from their painfully empty stomach. It growled again, and Nic clenched their fists in frustration.

“Food”, they reminded themselves, as if the thought had slipped away in their frantic waste of energy “I need food”. 

So, without letting their hunger stop them, the famished satyr plucked away the spines from their pelt and forced their legs to stop shaking. They inhaled deeply, getting ready to keep going, when they heard something—a subtle crack , loud enough for their receptive ears to catch. Nic’s right ear twitched, so they turned in that direction, only to find a small squirrel standing next to a rotting tree stump that the satyr had passed earlier. A small, brown squirrel that had a nut in between its tiny hands. Nic stayed still, very still, and observed the animal further. The squirrel was small and probably faster than them. But it was also weak. And Nic was hungry . 

Before they realized what was happening, Nic threw themselves at the squirrel. The small rodent let out an alarmed squawk and shoved the nut in its mouth before running away, Nic following closely. The squirrel dashed through the forest ground, agile, almost as if following a hidden path only it could see. All while Nic stumbled over and tried to recover their balance repeatedly; the uneven terrain and sudden turns made it even harder for their legs to work like they wanted, trying to step and run as they were used with their human body. Ragged and uneven breaths tore from their throat, sweat dripping from their forehead and pain shooting up from their hooves and hind legs as they begged for a stop but were forced to keep going. Yet moments later, the pursuit proved to be another failure. The little beast ran up a tree with ease and hid inside a hole in its trunk, far too high for Nic’s exhausted body to reach. The satyr panted for air as they looked upwards, as if hoping the squirrel would come out with its tiny arms full of nuts to share. 

Was that all, then? Defeated, time and time again by that realm home of small critters and dangerous beasts, tricky and deceiving, filled with nothing but pain and… sweet smells? Nic’s stomach roared again, the now-familiar pain gnawing at their empty insides. But the satyr was too focused on something else to care. That smell. They sniffed the air, their nose now proving much more useful than it had ever been. It was there—faint, mixed with scents of musk and dirt and other fragrances that made the forest smell as it did. But that smell was different. It belonged, it wasn’t a foreign one like the scent that lingered in their older clothes from the factory, oily and pungent to no end, with hints of smoke from the large pipes that polluted the air and everything around them. No, this scent belonged to the forest. A sweet, rich, apple scent that made the satyr’s stomach growl. 

Without much of an alternative, Nic let their body guide them. Their hooves stepped carefully through the undergrowth, their nose being the only guide to tell them where to step next. They took reluctant steps at first—Nic’s mind wasn’t too happy or trusting of this new side of them that acted as a guide, that instinct that fit more the mind of a beast rather than the one of a machine. Yet the hunger lingered and grew, and their muscles were already too exhausted as it were to spend any remaining efforts in any other useless attempts. So for once, they turned off their rational side and just let their senses guide them. 

The hesitant movements soon turned into decisive strides—their legs lunged their body forward in small jumps every time their hooves met the ground, impulsing themselves into the air for a fraction of a second before returning to the soft soil and repeating the process all over again. Nic was soon dashing through the forest, the scent growing stronger and stronger as they moved. It wasn’t only their legs that allowed them to move faster, but their whole body working in tandem to reach their destination. Nic’s ears twitched when their head neared a branch or another obstacle, allowing them to duck before that happened; their tail moved along with the direction of their upper body and helped them keep their balance in those tight turns they hadn’t been able to perform earlier. The satyr felt a surge of adrenaline from within, and a vague sense of something they couldn’t quite determine. Despite the sweat, pain, and overall uncomfortableness, a smile tugged at Nic’s lips. 

That was, until they reached the origin of that sweet, juicy apple scent. Leshy’s cabin. Nic stopped before the small house, catching their breath as it dawned on them what had happened. Inside the cabin, the elderly scrybe of the beasts carefully sliced what looked like a homemade apple pie, its aroma filling the air and reaching the famished satyr. Nic’s stomach growled once more, impatient, and Leshy turned his head. There was a brief moment where nothing happened, the young satyr staring at the older one as he stared back, knife in hand. Nic was tired, hungry, and now scared as they recalled the way they had parted from Leshy’s care—they had refused their help as soon as they were capable of standing on their hooves again, insulted the scrybe for trying to nurse them as if they were a fawn or a weakling, for bringing them clothes that fit their new body better and keeping them safe and warm inside his cabin as their ankle recovered. Nic wouldn’t have been happy if they had been in Leshy’s position. If they had been in the scrybe’s shoes, they would have raised the knife and run after Nic until they were no longer. The younger satyr’s fur spiked up in horror as they realized they wouldn’t be able to outrun the scrybe of the beasts in his own realm, even if it meant saving their own life.

Leshy held their gaze through the window for a few seconds, then glanced back down to the pie. He brought down the knife and finished slicing a triangular piece, a bit bigger than he had meant to, but no matter. The tree satyr hummed as he set the portion of pie on a plate, only to then repeat the process. He wasn’t oblivious to the way the little fawn’s mouth watered at the sight of the pie Grimora had so kindly baked and gifted him with the apples he had grown for her. And it seemed like the aroma had also caught their attention. Moving slowly, with the experience of one used to dealing with frightened animals, he reached out and extended his arm through the open window, offering the plate with a bigger slice of apple pie to Nic. The hesitation was evident, their ears flattened and their tail hidden in between their legs as he debated whether or not to accept his offer. And then, in the blink of an eye, the slice was gone and the younger satyr was devouring the food with a hunger of a pack of wolves. Leshy would have offered them a spoon or fork if needed, but it seemed they were far too hungry to wait for utensils. 

The scrybe of the beasts hid a smile beneath his leafy beard, amused by how quickly the fawn had forgotten their pride in favour of basic needs such as nourishment. A hint of surprise rose above, too; the older satyr hadn't expected the young fawn to last for so long in such unfamiliar lands without added help. He welcomed the surprise, either way, and as the fawn finished the pie and locked eyes with him again, he gestured to the door. There was much they could learn about the forest and its residents, and whether Nic liked it or not, it seemed like that place would serve as their new home. At least, until they figured out a way to change their new body for their old one. But in the meantime, they had plenty of apple pie to share.

[starshine-hockey-girl]

Okay, so I am like way behind on this story, but I loved it so much. You handled the gender pronoun transition so effortlessly. I loved the ending.

gotta trust how you feel inside - J. Skinner

Summary: Jeff Skinner had never met anyone like Cameron Marlow before. Turns out, he had a lot to learn.

A story of accepting someone for who they are, as well as accepting yourself.

This is my entry for @wyattjohnston​’s summer fic exchange 2k23, for @nhl-stories​! I decided to do something a little different than I’ve ever done before, based off of your prompts and answers to my questions, so I really hope you like this. I researched so many articles and blog posts and videos on coming out and acceptance and all the different ways people have felt and reacted in their own journeys, so I really hope I did Cam’s story justice. Also heavily inspired by Mae Martin and their wonderful self!

Warnings: angst, slow burn, friends to lovers, fear of coming out as non-binary, change of pronouns part-way through.

Words: 4.8k

Title from Green Eyes by Arlo Parks.

Thank you to @tippedbykreider​ for being a wonderful beta reader!

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[chaospikes]

They are so iconic to me.