#server prompt

[aicosu]

Hellcheer Succubus Prompt

"No, no, no, god, fuck dammit, stop—!!"

He can tell he'd created a demon instead of summoned one as soon as the pentagram on the floor starts bubbling lava instead of opening a portal.

And he drops the cast book to pick up the archives, falling over his boots to scramble across the chalk and avoiding singing his clothes, looking anywhere for his binding knife of his destruction ring.

"Shit, shit, shit!!"

But the burning starts building a form fast and without focus. Intention had already been set while he'd dazed away on a tangent.

Don't summon horny, every book ever said. In bold Latin lettering.

"Oh come on!" He yells as the figure drips naked over a petite breasted form, red hot fire drops from the floor off shaping her head and face. "Not with the goddamn ponytail, come on, fuck!!"

She peels open white hot eyes to turn and look at him, succubus wings sliding off her bangs to hover in the air. She'd be solid soon. Born from his lust to kiss mortal air.

Eddie curls over to smash the Hunter's guide over his face. "Fuck."

[morning-sun-brah]

Hey! Guess what!!

We did a server prompt and it is LIVE.

You can find the works here;

And MAN. There is hella talent in this collection and every single one of these is just ~chefs kiss~

(and a big thanks to @deer-intelligence for all the help!)

Go and give the authors some love!!

@amutantturtleenthusiast @hagelpaimon @afreakingdork

[aterfish]

Good thing it was a short spin

[turtledotjpeg]

kurapika remembers when gon was small

[forecast0ctopus]

danbert sketches

[skullfragments]

"you mean a sudden rainstorm forces them to get stuck inside the Bentley, and they look into each other's eyes and realize they were made for each other?"

aka

"if the Bentley's a-rockin', don't come a-knockin'"

aka

VAVOOM

[foundfamilywhump]

the audible damage to a whumpee's voice from the harm that's come to them... hoarse and quiet from being choked, or from screaming until their voice gives out, or from crying so hard for such a long time. the raspy way everything is forced out, the way their voice cracks and squeaks, the way they wince and cringe and swallow hard before trying again. it hurts to listen to them.

[dragondawdles]

did an art sprint challenge thing tonight have a sub-2 hour deku link

[lowpolysonic]

just draw the spell

[tsukiyo-7]

Hearts will dream again Lungs will breathe in Wash away the sins It's where it begins Feet won't fail you now Arms won't let you down Wash away the sins It's where it begins

[heroesspirit]

Scarf prompt

[aicosu]

Hellcheer Western Prompt

They're basically asleep when the neigh of a horse has them scrambling to their feet.

Eddie has to dive over the desk to shove his elbows down on Dustin's shoulders, both wrestling for a view out the broken shutters.

"People!" Dustin points out the obvious when he's pushed to the floor.

"Hide the guns!" Eddie barks, eyes still on the caravan of three kicking up dust through their two-manned ghost town.

"Which ones and where?"

They both turn to look at the piles of rifles, pistols, dynamite littering the surfaces of the entire building.

"Good point." Eddie palms his hair into his cheeks in thought. Fuck, strangers always meant acting. And that could be fun but lately it's been so stressful with the addition of their bounty posted from here to the north of winter's asshole. "Gimme the deputy badge."

"Nuh Uh!" Dustin scrambles up to protect his tin shield. "I hate being Sheriff!"

"No, I hate being Sheriff! They always want me to do shit for—"

"—last time I was Sheriff I had to change wheels—"

"—killing people constantly like I'm a fucking lawmen—"

"—and no one believes I'm old enough! No!"

"Gimme it!"

Another horse whinnies at the crack of a reign and Eddie tackles Dustin to the ground both scuffing spurs in a pathetic tussle on the jail building floor for less responsibility.

——

"Well, howdy."

"You the Sheriff?"

Eddie sucks his teeth with a cringe against the porch beam, and Dustin chuckles at his side. "Sure am."

"Place abandoned?"

It takes Eddie a second to realize the person he's talking to might be dame wearing a fake mustache. But he realizes it all the same, blinking against the dirt in the air and the sun in the sky. They have brown chopped hair and sharp angles in their face… plus pants on. So maybe a boy but… "Mine accident."

They whistle, unloading themselves from shotgun with shotgun. "Is it still safe for stopping?"

"We don't have hands for the saloon or board." Dustin rushes to say. Eddie pats him with approval. They really don't need stranger blowing their fake town cover.

"We have our own things. Provisions, linen, rafters, entertainment, and drink and most in the back would feel a mightier safer with a couple of lawmen to look out for bandits and wolves instead of me."

Eddie doesn't get a chance to protest.

"I'm the Ringer Robin by the way, should any introductions be made while we park our fares for just a few days. Ringer as in ringleader, leader as in—"

"It's a circus!" Dustin exclaims with a cough of excitement in his kiddy cheeks. He thumbs at the side of the caravan with a huge grin.

Eddie glares, leaning one way to see the painted canvas displayed on the three wagons. Circus. Real low in the laying.

"I don't think—"

"We'd do a show for you, Sheriff!"

God he hated being fucking called that.

"We're staying?" A voice flits from the back.

They all turn, and there in the shafts of sunlight burning gold into red on the edge of the world, forms a girl made from its last wink. A precious coin lost in dust. A delicate dandelion seed adrift in the west.

A lady.

She steps down from the caravan with grace he's not known, with clean hair and cleaner skin.

Adnorned in, uh, uhm, fuck, not much!

"Mm—hrnu-who—hungh-m-m-m—"

"Ma'am." Dustin achieves what he can't and has the decency to tip his hat all the way down to the ground as she quite literally traipses by in nothing but a strap suit that exposes her whole leg and backside, little hip ruffles not at all decent in covering anything more than what modesty she had left.

She chitters to Robin's side dangling finge and gems, great big, very valuable, and possible fence-able rhinestone eyes blinking at him.

At him. At him. At him!

"This is our lady of trapeze, who should very much stay in the wagon until I sa—"

"I'm bloodless in my legs." She whispers back with the shyest dip of her cutest nose. And it's been exactly five months since Eddie's seen anything as beautiful as her. The last being a peek of a sweet family dinner from a window outside the city. And she's immensely more delicious. Her eyes find him with demure excitement. "We heard rumor that the Crow Killer is a town over—"

"Crow Killer! HA! How fun, who, uh—what's, what's that?" Dustin's voice is loud enough in protest that the horse's scamper.

"Nope! Sorry, my deputy forgets the Marshalls visit fortnights ago…" Eddie grabs him by the neck to squeeze him quieter as subtly as possible. "Our, uh, sad little town of grief has no business for the likes of that…. Degenerate! I'm sure!"

"Sheriff Eddie's right, no... no shadow caped killer of hundreds to be found here. Nope. No nightime burgles or larceny... no, no, no."

The trapeze artist has such gall to look disappointed that Eddie has to resist falling to his knees before her and handing her his bounty and screaming, it's me! It's me!

"We're better off, I'm sure," Robin squints. "Come on, Chrissy girl, let's get everyone roped over by the water tower."

"That's empty." Dustin lies. The only two left of them doing his goddamn job. "It's really not the best place to camp."

Chrissy, Chrissy, Chrissy. Not even a Mary Anne or a Harriet type aristocrat name to make him retch. But a little jingle jangle name like tying a Chrissy to a mill for luck! Help him!

"Have you caught many outlaws?" Chrissy distractedly asks him, not moving to help Robin or his sanity.

He stares down at sweet cream skin and caramel spun hair like it's a mirage for a hungry desperado out of luck. "Uh, well, I, I've uh, yes! Of, course! P-part of the job, little… lady. Little... bird. Miss. Ma'am!"

Now he really sounds like every other belt-belly tight police man whose only skil was turning locks.

"Maybe we'll stay awhile and you could tell us Sheriff stories by the fire?" She leans in even as Robin calls for her.

She smells like yarrow in milk and honey.

"You really can't stay." Dustin says urgently at his elbow. Eddie puts a hand on the kid's face to push him backward.

"Yes! I'd be honored, to uh, be at the service of a proper debutante." He grins wide. When she giggles he gets worse. "A proper artist—angel, even! Of the skies! A... sheriff of the cloud themselves! Y-yes."

"Oh, good!" She smiles.

Dustin groans into his palm long and loud.

[2-dsimp]

Formally introducing Rival Priest Rashiq!

(Btw he’s Australian 👀)

[miiilowo]

[venbetta]

Week One [10/1-10/8]: Pumpkin

I don't blame Freddy for not trusting Gregory with a knife

[nina-scribbles]

What do you mean? Dragoon has a great fashion sense. (+a template)