#shrink spells comic

[thesabrinatheteenagewitchblog]

Sabrina and her crush Tommy (who knows she's a witch, interesting!) star in a tiny racing adventure called "Teeny-Weeny Boppers" in this latest "60 Magical Stories" post!

This is a pretty fun story, and our first in this collection to start the most traditional of Sabrina stories: Sabrina uses her magic to help someone, results may vary!

[slu7formen]

Could we have a part 2 of friend Luke teasing us?? help im so addicted rereading that so many timesssss

(smut or more flirting? your choice love—)

ITS JUST SO GOOD

SORRY FOR THE WAIT, this request was asked more than once so here it is. Also, I´m so glad you liked the previous part so much you re-read it <3 🥺, tysm

previous part (if u want)

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: luke´s a fucking tease, again, pet names, semi-public s3x, alcohol mention, kissing, biting, sucking, unprotected p in v (don´t), dom!luke, rough s3x.

reminder: english´s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

"I'm going for a walk. Care to join me?" you asked, swaying on your feet. Your voice wobbled slightly, but it held.

Luke's amusement was evident in the quirk of his eyebrow. "A walk, huh?" he drawled, his gaze lingering on the way your lips, still tingling from the fiery drink, were slightly parted. "Too drunk already?” he teases.

You roll your eyes with a groan from your throat. “Are you coming or not?” you cross your arms over your chest, the movement slightly comical given your unsteady stance, but your breasts crushed so deliciously when you did so, tightening the fabric of your t-shirt, that Luke couldn´t help but dart his eyes down there for a second.

A slow smile spread across his face, the kind that sent a delicious yet cold shiver down your spine. "Alright" he sighed, rising smoothly to his feet, even when his system was filled with the strongest drink he found himself drinking on a few minutes ago. “Lead the way then, princess”

You set off through the trees, the path illuminated only by the sliver of moon peeking through the tree cups and the distant glow of the bonfire, less and less intense the further you hid in the shadows. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig sounded amplified in the quiet night. You could practically feel the weight of Luke's gaze on your back. His eyes roamed down your body from behing, eyes falling to the way your hips swayed so effortlessly as you walked, that fucking jean skirt accentuating your curves in all the right places. You weren't sure if you were leading him, or if he was leading you, both of you drawn by a force far stronger than reason.

After what felt like an dense and heavy eternity, you reached a clearing bathed in moonlight. A large oak tree stood in the center, its branches reaching out like gnarled fingers. You stopped, a nervous flutter in your stomach.

"Nice spot" Luke said, his voice a husky murmur behind you.

You turned to face him, his dark form silhouetted against the moonlit clearing. "It is, right?" you agreed, your voice barely a whisper.

As if on cue, the music from the bonfire faded completely, replaced by the chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the night breeze. The world seemed to shrink until all that existed was the space between you and Luke.

He took a slow and confident step towards you when your eyes kept looking at him, and you met him halfway, the space between you shrinking with each step. The playful teasing from earlier was gone, replaced by a simmering intensity in his dark eyes. His hand reached out, cupping your cheek. You closed your eyes at the feeling of his warm touch, cold sweat forming on your palms. This wasn't how you'd imagined spending your night, but suddenly, it felt like the most perfect moment you could have ever wished for.

"Gods" you breathed, the sound barely audible, "you're killing me, Luke." Even with your eyes closed, you could feel the intensity of his gaze burning into you, and felt his smile too.

He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through your body. "Maybe that's the point, doll." His voice was husky, laced with something that sent a jolt of desire sizzling through your veins.

You opened your eyes, meeting his stare. His cheeks were flushed a faint red, a testament to the potent drink he'd consumed, but his eyes held a fierce intensity that excited you, even though you´ve seen it before, just not this close. His hair was windblown and messy, perfectly accompaying his handsome features.

"That was quite a show back there" he rumbled, his voice low and warm inside your ears, as he placed behind your ear a stray of loose hair. You could smell the faint scent of the strange red drink on him, mingled with something else - a familiar, comforting scent that you associated with him.

"You dared me" you defended yourself, suddenly self-conscious under his scrutiny.

He chuckled again. "Don't worry, ´m not judging. I'm just impressed."

His thumb brushed over your lips, sending a spark of desire shooting inside your tummy. "You shouldn't have done that just to prove a point, though." There was a playful glint in his eyes, but also a hint of something more, something serious simmering beneath the surface.

The words were a warning, but they held an undercurrent of something else entirely. The way he was looking at you now, with a fire burning in his eyes that mirrored your own, made your knees weak. You knew he wanted to kiss you, but he wanted to make you wait; by brushing your lips with his thumb, your jawline, your cheekbones. His touch, so light, left a trail of thin fire where he touched, a blush in your face, a hot feeling against his fingers.

"Who said I was trying to prove a point?" you ask, your voice as weak as your knees felt.

He met your gaze then, his dark eyes searching yours after he drifted them away from your plump lips. "What was it about then?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in a mocking tone.

You swallowed, the sudden honesty both exhilarating and terrifying. "You" you blurted out, word dripping heavy from your lips.

A smile tugged at the corner of Luke's lips.

"Me?" he echoed, his voice husky. "What about me?"

You weren't sure if you could take back the words you were about to say, but the look in his eyes, the way his hand tightened on your cheek, urged you forward. In a sudden, bold move, you brushed your hands against his forearms, gripping them. Then, with a surge of newfound courage fueled by the moonlight and the strange drink, you reached out and guided his free hand to your waist, slipping it dangerously beneath the edge of your shirt. Your touch sent a visible tremor through him.

"I´m not dumb, Luke.” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly, but still flashing a smirk at him. "The way you like to tease me," you continued, your cheeks burning even hotter. "The way you look at me-,"

Before you could finish your sentence, the space between your lips vanished. With a grip on the base of your neck, he slammed his cold lips against yours. His kiss was sudden, fierce, and intoxicating. It tasted of the strange red mix he'd been drinking, but it was also the taste of desire, of unspoken feelings finally finding their release. It was a kiss fueled by the electricity that had been crackling between you all night, by the way his eyes roamed down your body, by the way you instantly feel your arousal stain your panties as soon as he called you ´Good girl´, a desperate exploration that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him as if he were the only solid thing in a world that suddenly felt like it was spinning. His hand found its way to the small of your back, pressing you flush against him, the heat of his body searing through your thin shirt. You moaned into his kiss, a sound that was both surprised and utterly satisfied.

The kiss was messy, fueled by the heat of the moment and the alcohol coursing through your veins. You stumbled backwards, his hand following the curve of your back and the top of your ass until you found yourselves pressed against the rough bark of the oak tree.

His touch ignited a fire within you, a desperate need for more. You stood on your tiptoes to reach his lips more, which were impossibly perfect in the moonlight. Your height difference, usually a minor annoyance, felt electric now. You felt small and protected in his arms, yet the need to be closer burned bright.

A strangled moan escaped his own lips as his tongue danced against yours, exploring every corner with a possessive urgency. The quiet of the night was only broken by the ragged sound of your breaths and the frantic thump of your hearts, the smack of your lips. The kiss intensified more, a battle for dominance that you were both surprisingly eager to lose.

He was gripping into everything he could, he semed to know you so well; he grabbed your waist, gently let his finger fall from your shoulder blades to your lower back, brush your inner thighs with his fingers and just when you parted your lips to sigh in satisfaction, he would fly his hand to your throat again, squeezing slightly; he still gave you reasons to look for breath.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, the dark strands surprisingly soft against your fingertips, and pulled slightly.

"Whoa there, princess" he murmured against your lips, his voice thick and heavy. He pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss, but not enough to sever the connection entirely. His eyes, dark and gleaming with desire, twinkled with a hint of his usual teasing glint. "Slow down. We've got all night, or at least until someone notices we´re gone."

Even in your flustered state, you couldn't help but let out a small laugh. The sound was breathless and shaky, but it broke the tension that had been building between you. “Everyone knows we´re gone. Besides, you started it” you mumbled.

"Maybe I did" he admitted, his eyes gleaming with a devilish delight. "But you have to admit, doll, you didn´t stop me."

He leaned down again, but this time, the kiss was different. It was slower, more deliberate, his tongue exploring yours with a languid sensuality that sent a whole new different warmth in your body, more intimate, more private.

"Maybe you should show me exactly what you meant by 'not dumb'" he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. His words were a challenge as his kisses started to trail down the side of your neck.

You bit your lip, torn between playful defiance and a desperate need to feel his lips lower. "You know what I meant, Luke” you breathed out.

“Can you read me that well?” he let out a breathed laugh out, his hot breath making the skin of youe neck grow goosebumps.

"Maybe better than you think" you whisper. Your lodged your head back, the back of your skull hit the rough oak tree, but Luke´s lips trailed such delicious and desperate bruises down your neck that you didn´t seem to care.

The conversation was quickly replaced by the filfthiest sounds; his teeth sucking on your skin, the wet pop of it whenever he would pull at your skin to start another purple spot on your skin, your whimpers as he did so.

His hips pressed against yours, squeezing his hardened cock against your pelvis to relieve the painful and heavy tension inside his jeans. One of his hands brushed up one of your thighs, grabbing it from the back of your knee to raise it towards his hip. Then it widened, fingers open as much as possible and squeezing the flesh as he went higher, your skin getting hotter and more tender as he trailed up, finally brushing his fingers over your panties.

You gasped when he applied the tiniest pressure, breath shaking as he held tighter onto your body. Your had your hips rolling against his hand unconsiously, letting little whimpers fall off your lips as Luke grinned at the feeling of his fingertips getting slightly wet.

He pulled them aside slightly, your arousal coating his fingers as you let out a strangled moan from the back of your throat. Luke pulls back slightly, his face in front of yours. He admired your face, twisted in pleassure as he dipped one finger in, slowly. "You´re all wet for me" he whispers, eyes darting from yours, to your lips.

A small pout crossed your features as you nodded. Luke felt like dying. The alcohol had his head spinning slightly, eyes blurry as he tried to focus on your face again, the little pout in your lips, your pink cheeks, the so innocent look made his cock ache more inside his jeans. You were too much for him, you always were his weakness, but tonight every emotion he ever felt for you was multiplied a hundred times more.

He would lie to himself if he said he didn´t dream about having you before, about holding you tight against him, about feeling how warm you would be. He spent endless nights jerking himself off at the simple thought of you, his mind racing with all the memories he held deep back into his head. He loved it when you wore skirts like now, so small yet so elegant in your legs, how you managed to make everything pretty on you even if we were talking about the sweaty and old camp shirt. He loved the exposed skin of your legs and arms, your cleveage, your neck. he fantasized about them every time he could, biting on his bottom lip and holding back moans as his hips twitched when his seed would stick in between his fingers.

But now he didn´t have to worry about being quiet, or about how long he would have to keep his secret to himself, because he had you right there, with two fingers deep into your cunt, pumping them in and out at a fast pace that only made the squelching sound louder and wetter by the second.

He took your bottom lip in between his teeth, stealing a painful cry from you. Your brows were frowned in the deepest pleasure when you started to mumble senseless things in Luke´s ear, something about going faster, or harder. Truth was, Luke wasn´t entirely listening either, too focused on how much he could use you by following all the thoughts that ever crossed around his dirty mind.

He felt like staining his pants any second when your hand squeezed in between your bodies and grabbed onto his cock over the fabric of his jeans, your hand guiding your fingers up and down as you tried your best to satsify him too. A low groan erupted from him, darting your hand away and pinning it against the tree behind you.

"Stay still" he said in between tight teeth, his nose bumping against your as he used his free hand to get rid of his belt. Your heart pounded at a franatic rythym, almost ripping out of your chest. You decided to keep quiet, pressing your lips together as you patiently waited. "I know you´d blow me if I asked you to" he suddenly blurted out, "but as much as I like your pretty mouth, I don´t wanna cum in it yet" he declared with a single raise of his eyebrows.

Your cheeks got squeezed together when he grabbed them with a single hand, kissing you deeply again. He had pulled his jeans down to the ground, and as much as you wanted him to manhadle you, to tell you what to do, to play with you more, you couldn´t wait much longer. Your free hand went down slowly as your lips moved against each other. Luke hissed when your cold hand grabbed the base of his cock, heavy and hot in between your fingers. You pumped him a few times before leading it to your entrance.

And you both lost it.

You tried to be as quiet as you could, Luke slapping his hand across your lips as you pulled into his hair to make him groan instead of moaning, but it was a task as hard a letting your mouths do the sound they pleased. You squeezed your eyes shut at how tight the knot in your belly was turning, your cunt squeezing Luke´s cock so much it started to hurt.

Because Luke was not gentle, or slow. He was behaving like an animal, fucking you like one, with his deep groans and the bites along your neck and shoulders. He held you up as your legs were wrapped around his waist, back painfuly pressing against the rough tree behind you. He shook you as if you were lightweighed, hands gripping to your ass with his hips slamming against yours over and over again.

The heel of your feet pushed his lower back, forcing him to go deeper. He was being louder than you, moaning into your ear with his mouth hanging open and his brows frowned, his words dripping down your body, melting your brain.

"You feel so good, baby" he panted. "So tight. Can’t believe I had to wait this long to fuck this pussy"

And you couldn´t help but reply to his words, parting your lips and letting out the most pornographic whimper you could release when your ass kept bumping and bumping against the oak. The material was hurting your skin, but you didn´t seem to care. All you asked was for more, and more, and more, and Luke was determinated to give you what you wanted.

"You´ve always been my favorite, Luke" you whispered into his ear, one of your hands holding the back of his neck. Your words came out so easily, it didn´t seem as if he was fucking you so violently that it had your back hurting and your eyes rolling at the back of your skull. "I-," you cut yourself off, biting your lips to get out a single cry. The tip of his cock was brushing your spongiest spot. "I always knew you´d fuck me right"

You smiled when a subtle whimper of vulnerabilty slipped past his lips. "Yeah?" was all he asked.

"Yes" you pleaded. "I know you´re always playing, but, you can have me when you want"

He was fucking you dumb against a tree, and you were rotting his brain with your words. You could sense the effect it had on him; how he gripped you tighter, painting bruises into your skin. How he rested his forehead on the crook of your neck and his breath smashed into your skin.

"I´ve always wanted you, yn"

There was a glenching sound echoing through the clearing, the sound of where you two connected the most, but it got lower and lower as Luke´s frenetic movements started to slow down its pace.

He grilled his teeth when his cum filled you up, white and hot. He squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling, it was too good. You squeezed him on porpuse when his cock twitched inside you, his hands almost failing at the task of holding you to him.

He stopped feeling his heartbeat inside his ears, but his mouth hung open against your chest, kissing your sternum tenderly as he slowly made you stand on his feet again.

You placed your hands over his shoulders, hugging him into your embrace as his lips grazed over yours again. He brushed them against yours before pressing softly, the taste of the alcohol forgotten, but the warmth of his smooth flesh transfered to your mouth.

But when he tried to pull away to kneel down and look at the mess he had made; his cum dripping down your legs, your panties so messy you weren´t sure if you could wear them ever again, you stopped him.

"I haven´t cummed yet. This isn´t over, big boy"

[normal-internet-user]

Friendling!!! First off, *offers bouquet* and secondly, my (redacted) was PANICKINGGGGGG but then I got a hold of myself and that's why I'm here now.

I had the Saddest Thoughts™ about the Disaster Triplets, yeah? I had the fluff/crack train going!! I promise I did but then while we were running through the meadows of peace Angst clotheslined me and choke-slammed me into the soil.

Here's what they left me with! Remember when Shelldon essentially got destroyed? Around the end of S2, I believe; noted, I haven't watched S2 but I've seen clips plus some tidbits and stuff through here and I've come to the knowledge that Shelldon did indeed get ... well, deconstructed. 😔

And this is also very much inspired by a TikTok I came across a while ago!! To cut clear, it was a comic strip/fanart video of Donnie's reaction to his brothers breaking the news to him. Of how Shelldon got caught in the crossfire and... didn't make it. :(((

Broke my heart, truly it did. But then I scrolled through the comments and one mentioned how angsty it would be if Donnie found out that Leo's the one who told Shelly to protect Karai (?? I think! Like I said, haven't watched it 😅)

And. It had me thinking.

Angst scenario. So, so angsty. Much hurt. The boys break the news to Donnie. Donnie, of course, devastated. Probably goes into denial for a bit until the evidence is presented right in front of him. But then, Donnie finds out that Leo's the one who told Shelldon to stay behind. (THIS BROKE MY HEART TOOO LIKE MY POOR BLUEBERRY HE DIDN'T KNAUR)

Can you imagine how Donnie would feel? How utterly heartbroken, nay, betrayed he'd probably feel? The heartbreak would be shattering. Then, past the shock, the anger would filter through.

Donnie and Leo are twins. In this case scenario, Donnie and Leo and you are triplets. You're the one who'd be closer to Donnie, hands up in a placating gesture despite feeling extremely delicate yourself. You were so sorry. You were so, so sorry Donnie.

It's okay. It'll all be okay. Just, just don't —

You're probably the one to separate your twins from each other. I can't figure out how Donnie would react precisely; whether he'd become violent or turn terrifyingly cold. Would Leo approach his brother, feeling a rush of emotions just as strongly upfront and reaches forward for both, repentance and reassurance? Or would he shrink back under Donnie's gaze, shoulders hunched over to protect himself from forces unseen, his own realization catching up to him. It was... his fault? Him? No.. no, no it couldn't be. Shelldon was like a son to Donnie — practically was his son. And Leo had...

I don't know how they'd completely react, but I do have an idea of how Reader would. Or rather, completely my headcanon ping-pong tournament. 🤩

I know you'd be caught in the middle. (Someone said Donnie wouldn't talk to Leo for months and it was my 13th reason, basically-) You'd feel so strung between your brothers. Caught between placating Donnie, who becomes even more withdrawn and has an edge to himself that he never did before.

Leo? Leo's... terrified. Leo's so, so sad. Leo's depressed and he doesn't know how to cope and he wishes things didn't happen the way they did but it did and he just wants his brother back. He's still the face man, and his coping skills are still crap. But he's not making as many jokes, his smile is glass, his eyebags are horrendous underneath his mask, which is streaked and stained with tears he cried in the privacy of his room. You should know. You'd walked in multiple times.

The first couple of times, you'd left at his beckoning. The next, you strode right in and pulled him into your arms. He didn't say much outside of a territorial growl and chirrup (an insult to you, really) embracing his animalistic nature for a spell and pushed at your shoulders. But then you wrenched him back and straight up snarled in his face, snout-to-snout, and he broke.

He fully expected you to storm out, maybe spit in his face (get this man some therapy pls), treat him with the hatred he believed he deserved. You called him a dumb-dumb, tone biting in the quiet of the night, and crushed him against you in a hug that washed over him entirely.

He'd begged you not to hate him too in the shelter of your neck. He clung to you, shaking, apologies spilling out from the depths of his broken heart, whimpers and chirps and words slurring together.

You were a rock. Leo's used to you being so soft and warm, and over the time he had pushed you away, you grew cold. He'd misread the situation entirely (you had never left him, you were just waiting.) You didn't hate him, he comes to realize. It's a salve to his entire being. You nuzzle his shoulder, pet down his head and shell, press small caring kisses to his temple, assuring him that the bond between you all could never be broken. The world's big. This family is bigger. The love between you all transcends dimensions. It may seem small and suffocating right now, but it will all turn out to be okay.

And you weren't going anywhere. This is another obstacle- like the skate ramps when they first started out! It seemed big and scary then, hm? But then they conquered it, and now it's his favorite thing in the world. It's one of their favorite things in the entire world.

This is just another obstacle, you murmur as you press your forehead to his. Something you always do to calm either of your siblings down. Leo clung to you as you both settled and cuddled in his bed, and you held him close. Your brother. The color purple flashed through either of you guy's minds, and while it was an obstacle to overcome, you knew you'd all conquer it.

This wasn't like skateboarding at all — but the blueprint wasn't too far off. It'd just take time. This was a very delicate situation, and that's how you would handle it.

You squeeze Leo closer, let him cry it all out until he falls asleep. You'd get through this. Through the winding obstacle of thorns, you'd all get through this. But it was okay to not be okay, and you all were not okay right now.

One thing was for damn sure, and that was that you wouldn't give up on your family.

(The happy part of this is that once all's said and done, Donnie of course rebuilds him in the future because I said so and emailed so and texted so. I'm so spoiled by the au's and fanart on here of amazing artists and such giving Shelldon and Don-Bon their happy ending!! Also. Son™.)

You have RUINED me but I have been plauged by the thoughts... the thoughts...

CONFLICT

◇~~◇~~◇~~◇~~◇

Summary: Being stuck in the middle of a conflict is never easy. Especially when it's family. Especially when it's your twins.

Warnings: Angsty angsty angsty

Requested:

GN Reader!

....................................

How had things ended up this way? Your home was destroyed, your family was in shambles, and the relationship you held so tightly between you and your brothers was crumbling too fast to fix.

"That's not funny." Donnie had deadpanned when he'd first heard the news of Shelldon, "That is not a funny joke in any capacity."

"It's not a joke, Dee." You muttered, easing your hand onto his shoulder, "Shelly's... he's gone.. He's gone."

"That's not... it can't be.."

"Donnie..."

"He was supposed to be out of the way! How is he- He was out of the way!" Donnie shouts, his entire body tenses with an emotion he doesn't know how to express in the moment.

Leo however, seems to making himself smaller and smaller with every word from his brothers mouth, and the ever observant eyes of Donatello notice.

"Leonardo, what. did. you. do?" He asks lowly, shoving you away and stomping closer to Leo, glaring daggers.

"I told him to protect Gram-Gram. I didn't think he'd.. I didn't think this would happen!" Leo defends, trying to back away from Donnie, not daring to look his brother in the eyes.

"You... Shelldon..." Donnie seemed unable to put his thoughts into words, he balled his hands into fists, and you quickly stepped forward to put yourself between them.

"Donnie..." Leo started but Donnie shoved him away, causing Leo to fall back onto the ground.

"No, shut up, Leo! You... you .. Stay away from me! Don't you dare-" Donnie snarls, and you move to stand infront of him, your heart was pumping and tears pricked at your eyes.

"Donnie... please calm down.." you begged.

"Don't." Donnie mumbles, slowly backing up, "Don't." Then he ran off to some unknown hideaway, Mikey went to charge after him, but Raph caught his arm.

"Give him a minute. He'll... he'll come around." He muttered.

God if only he'd been right.

The hours turned to days, the days to weeks, and the weeks to months.

It was tearing you apart having to play the middle man, Donnie refused to even look at Leo, and Leo was heartbroken.

He never said so. But you could tell.

It felt like a thick fog was filling your lungs ans suffocating you slowly, you missed how close the three of you were.

You were triplets, the dynamic trio, the three musketeers- now it felt more like you were strangers, and you didn't know what to do.

The guilt was eating away at Leo, and Donnie spent most of his time cooped up and refusing to speak to anyone.

You quietly entered Leo's room, and he glanced up at you, but looked away quickly. At least he didn't tell you to go away..

You sat next to him, and he leaned over so his head was resting on your shoulder. Nothing was said, but no words were needed.

He just needed someone there so he wasn't alone, but you both knew he'd never ask for help. He didn't need too. You knew.

You rested your head atop his, the two of you sitting in silent comfort with the other. Time.

Fixing this was going to take so much time. But you were willing to take the time to fix it. You needed too...

....................................

Part two...? 👀 Maybe. Most likely. Hehehehe

I literally read this at like 2am last night and passed out right after. THE THOUGHTS PLAUGED MY DREAMS.

[ultram0th]

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 01: Headshrink

Info │ 01

Alpha werewolf Derek Hale stalked into the decrepit room where Stiles was hiding. He eyed the human curiously, wondering why Stiles was staring intently at some old looking book, only to wave his hands sporadically at an empty Coke can.

Stiles sharply exhaled through his nose and then shot one hand forward, gritting his teeth with the movement.

Nothing happened.

“Damn it,” the human cursed to himself.

“What are you doing?” Derek asked, trying to hold back his smirk. He kept his usual scowl plastered onto his face to hide his deep admiration for the hyperactive human.

Stiles jerked back and then blushed when he saw the werewolf eyeing him. “Um,” he muttered quietly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “Deaton said that he saw a ‘spark’ in me, so I’ve been trying to test it.”

Derek let his tough guy façade crack for a moment, his bushy eyebrows rising in surprise. “Really?” he pressed, taking a step forward, leaning in so close to Stiles that he could smell his cologne. “I used to have a pack member who had a spark. Maybe I can help you?”

Stiles’s face broke out into a large smile, making Derek’s heart flutter. “That’d be great!” Stiles practically cheered. He leaned in closer to the werewolf, showing off the spell book that he’d been studying. “I’m trying to use this shrinking spell to make the can smaller.”

Derek tensed up at the closeness, unconsciously leaning in even closer to the human, nearly engulfing him in his bulk. Although he denied it outwardly to anyone who asked, Derek had a serious thing for Stiles, and after years of repressing it, their physical closeness was too tempting to ignore. Hence, Derek leaned as close to Stiles as he could, glancing over his shoulder at the book.

“Just focus your mind on what you want to shrink,” Derek breathed, so close to Stiles’s ear that his breath wafted over the human’s face. He smirked when he saw Stiles’s skin break out in goosebumps.

Stiles gulped. “O-okay,” he stammered.

Derek couldn’t help but preen at the effect he was having on Stiles, so he decided to up the ante. He leaned in even closer, his stubble brushing up against his face. “Focus on the image in your mind,” he whispered, his lips so close to Stiles’s cheek that he could just give one little—

POOF!

Derek felt like the room was spinning, as if it were on some sort of hydraulic system. He stumbled back, his vision full of stars. Once it cleared, he stared up at Stiles who only gazed back with wide, stunned eyes.

“What happened?” Derek asked, flinching when he heard his voice. It had shot up several octaves, sounding like he was some cartoon chipmunk. Derek made a move to clutch at his throat in surprise, but froze when he looked at his hands, which now seemed to be the size of dinner plates. His hands were massive; and when he frantically looked around at the rest of his body, the rest of him was just as large. His pecs appeared to jut off unbelievably far in front of him and his shoulders were crazily broad.

Stiles paled, but then quickly grew red. “Um, well I guess I can shrink stuff after all?” he cheekily muttered.

“Shrink?” Derek demanded in his squeaky voice. “I’m huge! What are you talking about?”

Stiles bit down on his lip and held out his phone for a second, taking a quick photo before turning it around for the werewolf to see.

Derek’s stomach fell when saw that his body hadn’t grown, his head had shrunk. Instead of its normal size, his head was now about the size of a baseball, looking comically tiny atop his muscular frame. “You were supposed to shrink the can!” Derek growled, his squeaky voice completely eliminating any threatening tone to his words. “Not my head!”

Stiles held his hands up in front of himself in surrender. “You told me to focus on an image in my head, and then you kissed me!” he blurted. “So… unfortunately, I thought of you.”

Derek just smoldered, irritated that the very second he made his move, his head shrank. “Just turn me back then!” Derek huffed.

“Y-yeah! Totally!” Stiles said as he frantically flipped through the magic book. “Just gimme a sec, and then we’ll have you back to normal. I mean, hey, if you want, I can also make something else bigger on you too?” He eyed the werewolf knowingly, offering a playful smirk.

Despite Derek’s irritation, he couldn’t help but feel his shoulders relax the smallest bit. “After you fix my head,” he agreed. “And only if I get to try its new size out on you.”

Stiles flipped through the book at a much faster pace.

[neverchecking]

Hi! I'm new following you... Looks pretty interesting... But I'm a bit confused of the nicknames of the characters... Like "sun" or "sage"

Did you have a list of who is each one? Please? Qwq

Well, first off, Hi! Hello! My name is Cinder and I write Yandere! Linked Universe!

If you're not familiar with Linked Universe I would highly recommend checking out the comic for it -> Here!

Anyway, as a fandom, we needed a way to easily differentiate between each Link bc writing 'The hero of so-and-so' every time would suck. So, they each go by Monikers that represent their hero title! The Zeldas are kind of the same. When we wanna differentiate between each games Zelda we use a specific name to do so. Here's a breakdown of each Link and their Zelda!

Name: Sky

His Zelda: Sun

His Games/appearances: Skyword Sword

Cool fact: When not including First, is often seen as the first hero of Hyrule and the first Wielder of Fi; A.K.A The Master Sword. Has a soul connection with a creature called a Loftwing, who I have dubbed as Crimson on this blog. Is mostly seen in a relationship with Sun because of their interactions in Skyword Sword, but I don't think it's ever been confirmed. Is Hella cute though.

Name: Four

His Zelda: Dot

His Games/appearances: Minish Cap, Four Swords, Four Swords Adventures

Cool fact: Four has the ability to split into four versions of himself, each reflecting an aspect of his personality (Red; protective, Blue; soft hearted, Green; still have no clue, and Vio; the brain cell). There was another part named Shadow who was, as you guessed, a shadow but he died. From my inference he was closest with Vio, but I'm embarrassingly unfamiliar with it. Four also has the ability to shrink to the size of a Minish/Picori; a race of mouse sized beings known for hiding trinkets and rupees in grass for said hero! Had a talking hat name Enzlo who ended up being a Minish in disguise. Did not get to keep talking hat.

Name: Time

His Zelda: Lullaby/Sheik

His Games/appearances: Ocarina of Time, Majora's mask

Cool fact: Has masks. Lots of em. One in particular linking him to a war god dubbed the Fierce Deity. Had an ocarina that turned back time, but he broke the timeline (Like a ding dong). Timeline A; where he survived and defeated Ganon. And Timeline B: A.K.A the downfall timeline, where he died (like a noob). Often seen as the oldest of the group but we have no idea how old he actually is. Was raised by a tree and has issues with the moon. Got trust issues from a mask. In Linked Universe Lore, he is married to a farm girl name Malon- who wrote Epona's song.

Name: Legend

His Zelda: Fable

His Games/appearances: A Link to the Past, Oracle of Seasons, Oracle of Ages, Link's awakening, Link Between Worlds, Triforce Heroes

Cool fact: Has a lover named Marin. She was not in fact real. Gave him trust issues. Also known as the Veteran for the sheer amount of adventures he's been on. Known as a hoarder, especially with rings that grant him special abilities and has a funky counterpart named Ravio (A merchant who reigns from Lorule, a mirror verse of Hyrule. his Zelda is Hilda, but he's not a Link so he doesn't get a paragraph. He does have a cool bird though named Sheerow and wears a funky hood. He's just a funky dude.) Legend is part of the Downfall Timeline, coming directly after that version of time, fell.

Name: Hyrule

His Zelda: Dawn, Aurora (He has two, though I'm not sure on the why/how/basically anything about them.)

His Games/appearances: Legend of Zelda, Zelda II

Cool fact: Is half fairy! It grants him the ability to use magic, especially healing spells and a lightning spell called 'Thunder', and he can turn into the size of a fairy with wings. Comes directly after Legend. Hyrule is also part of the Downfall Timeline, and is most often paired with Legend because of it. His Hyrule is particularly hostile with poisoned water and barren lands. Also gives him trust issues.

Name: Twilight

His Zelda: Dusk

His Games/appearances: Twilight Princess

Cool fact: Fell in love once. Fucked him up. Nah, I kid. No I don't. Twilight was raised in a village called Ordon as a rancher before his journey. On said journey, he was faced with something called the Twilight Realm which turned him into a wolf (A.K.A. Wolfie). There he met the Spoiler Twilight Princess named Midna. While in game there were no confirmations on their relationship, in the Manga they did smooch. made me cry. Anyway, after their adventure together Midna goes back to her world, destroying the only thing that links hers and Twilights together as she did, offically ghosting him. Gave him turst issues. He wears a twilight shard around his neck that allows him to shift between forms as he pleases. He is Time's descendant and had Time as guide to him in his adventure in the form of the Hero's Shade. Twilight is part of Timeline A. The one that did not fall.

Name: Wind

His Zelda: Tetra

His Games/appearances: Wind Waker, Phantom Hourglass (Depending on who you ask, he's also Spirit Tracks Link, but I do not think so)

Cool fact: Is a pirate! Had a pirate ship dad! Had a little sister, Aryll, that was taken by birds. Gave him trust issues. Lived with his grandmother and Aryll before Tetra who is, spoiler, Zelda, shows up and helps him find his sister. Tetra is so cool man, she's a pirate captain. Anyway, most often seen as the youngest Link. In his game, he wasn't even a hero lmao. Just some guy who's sister got taken and he went and found the triforce before merking Ganon RIGHT BETWEEN THE EYES. He was just feeling a little silly. Wind, I believe, is part of some third timeline stemming from Time's adventure or in the Downfall Timeline as his Hyrule flooded, leaving most to live on high mountains to avoid drowning.

Name: Warriors

His Zelda: Artemis (my love <3)

His Games/appearances: Hyrule Warriors

Cool fact: He's got a scarf. Had a wizardess who was supposed to watch time and space fall in love with him. Gave him trust issues. Has scars from when he drew the Master sword; which dominoed into something called The War of Eras. Companions and other heroes were pulled to his time to assist in the war, including, but not limited too; Time (Known as Mask in this regards), Wind, Midna, Marin, Ravio, Linkle (A female Link who was originally Wars' sister but, that idea was scrapped), and probably more that I'm missing idk I haven't finished the game. Is Captain of his knight squadron and famously despises Traitors. His own Zelda turned into Sheik to assist in the battle, but she's perfect just the way she is <3 Does not fall explicitly into either time line.

Now, this is where things kind of get tricky. Wild can either be one hero on three adventures or three different guys who arise during their subsequent time. For this blog, we see them as three different people.

Name: Calamity

His Zelda: Fauna

His Games/appearances: Age of Calamity

Cool fact: While his game is not seen as canon to the timeline, we include him because he's cool. Was part of a timeline where his Zelda unlocked his sealing powers earlier and saved them in time to fight the Calamity. He did not die, did not sleep for a hundred years, and kept his memory. Also a knight, also has trust issues, eats rocks. Does not fall explicitly into either time line.

Name: Wild

His Zelda: Flora

His Games/appearances: Breath of the Wild

Cool fact: Is the version of Calamity that's canon. His Zelda failed to awaken her powers in time, he, along with the Champions, died, took a hundred year nap, got trust issues, got memory issues, did not know wtf a stick was at the start of his adventure. Has a cool tablet called a Sheikah slate that lets him use runes (Magnet, ice, bombs, freeze time). In Linked Universe, he has scars lacing his one side. Is said to have had Wolfie as a guide during his adventure. Does not fall explicitly into either time line, but if I had to guess I would put it as Timeline A.

Name: Sage

His Zelda: Natura

His Games/appearances: Tears of the Kingdom

Cool fact: So, Sage was actually cultivated here! He is the Link from the newest Zelda Game, characterized by his anger and grudges held against Hylia. Does not have the scars, because of Rauru, but does have Fangs. Falls directly after Wild, as they are technically the same guy. When referring to the 'triplets' we are referring to Sage, Wild and Calamity.

Anyway, hope this helped! If you have anymore questions, lmk!

[nights-at-crystarium]

Fragments - episodes 15-18 author notes

Shall we sit back and go over the recent episodes together? C:

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

Obligatory ShB spoiler warning.

Any theme song enjoyers? I associate this song with this moment, and generally with Exarch’s longing and excitement that can’t be shown. “And in my usual voice, I say, there you are”.

Go away grandpa, you crashed an otherwise perfect party :’>

Had this followed the msq more closely, i.e. had Feo Ul not been the first to find Vivi, or had it happened in an environment more familiar to him, he might've asked Exarch if he's shy, or just ugly. Kinda like if you’re a bully in your school, you might still wanna keep a low profile in a new school.

Vivi treads lightly in a new world, at least tries to. He doesn't yet know how thick or thin is the ice under his feet.

Exarch doesn’t know about the tree since he was busy waiting for Vivi in the Ocular, having just finished the summoning spell, tense and giddy, hood up and all. Minutes passed, nothing happened, then Exarch started getting antsy and finally turned on his tv to find Vivi in Lakeland.

“Hey it could’ve been your spine” I hope is clear: as in Vivi could’ve landed on Lyna instead of the aforementioned tree, not a threat to snap her spine in a fight. He knows better than taunting random people.. Moreover, people stronger than him x’D

Artist achievement unlocked: managed to make a hooded person look expressive. IN THE BACK VIEW.

SPROUT?!

He’s more cute than he deserves to be here and you’ll perceive him.

Being at the end of the episode, “we’re friends, yes” is the first and only line almost nonchalantly tossed to Vivi! Exarch wanted to buy time and observe him, how he’s changed, how’s best to approach him now.

..And Vivi needs rest and new clothes, he spent AN ENTIRE DAY in one outfit. We've seen him around several people so far, and, while he's always genuine, he's the most himself with Exarch, even at this early stage.

But yeah, he’s jaded, regrets many choices in his life and wants his money back.

Vivi's tailored for this ship. Before I even knew that I wanted to write a comic of this size, I asked myself, what condition does he need to be in at the beginning of ShB for the chemistry to happen? The answer was, well, "terrible". I’ve got the juicy deets, but you’d have to be patient and keep an eye out for more flashbacks sprinkled in throughout the story.

What matters now is that, finally, both of them are sufficiently tired to start noticing something else than gremlins in each other.

Have fun living with the knowledge that there’s no face where it’s supposed to be :>

Exarch has a way with the fae: don't flinch, offer them something nice. He offers rest to Vivi without hesitation, as soon as he sees his emotionally battered state. And, oh, he’s still an archer, landing that perfect shot first try. This here is a genuine spark of interest, surprise and gratitude in Vivi’s eyes.

I went balls deep with the visual subtext here. Despite being shown up close, Vivi’s broody face takes on a secondary role as his mind literally closes in on Exarch in that moment, on the mystery man that’s suddenly so unlike the rest. Even if he’s yet another quest-giver, even if shit’s on fire, he allows Vivi to go? Rest? Have some time for himself???? Exarch is, or is about to become, his only light in the darkness :3c

Exarch’s stiff posture is also intended here. He must’ve rehearsed this scene sooooooooo many times, he was prepared for hostility, interrogation, tantrums, but this Warrior’s indifferent and just wants to leave?

Magical boy de-transformation! Headcanon time, two of them even.

Firstly, the Tower can register living presence in its vicinity, a passive ability which Exarch can casually tap into. Being aware of an entire city’s population is, mildly put, overwhelming, thus he’s learned to shrink the “radar” area down to his Ocular, or wherever he’s at the moment and whenever he actually needs it. He feels that Vivi’s indeed left, therefore he can safely remove the hood.

Secondly, the hood shadow’s magicked. The panel above demonstrates how it’d look naturally, if it were a normal shadow. But he casts a pitch black glamour that also extends to his hair.

Just a cool crystal flare that I feel like showing off :>

None of you would believe me now if I said this isn't a horny scene? Although this looks lewd, for someone who’d spent a century clinging to memories and tales the lingering scent is just another confirmation that all of this's real. He can't even touch the WoL (or so he thinks), the scent could be the most he ever gets. Bearing in mind the stress of the day, I genuinely don’t think that he’s in the mood here. But no worries, he’ll get plenty of horny opportunities later on :>

The subtle characterization in the way he opens a door to a supposedly empty, still unknown room.

An unironically normal reaction to the Light, and shadowbringing \o/

This. This goes into my personal collection of the best vivifaces I’ve drawn.

He’s quick to react to a threat (?) popping out of nowhere in a supposedly safe room.

GOMU GOMU NOOOOOOO-

I know the arm’s too long, but I like to incorporate some animation princliples :>

The Champion of Eorzea uses a stick to cure a 100 years old depression, ca. 2023, colorized.

Vivi didn't mean to pierce him, actually. While the space's more than enough for living, it's still cramped for fighting as a dragoon, and he simply misjudged the distance while spinning around and lunging at the source of that eerie voice. There’s also an ooc explanation: I couldn’t quite align all of this in one frame, and thought hey, Ardbert’s a ghost, it’s okay to pierce him!

Both are quick to handwave the fact, and let’s be honest, self-defense of that sort must be a mundane thing for a WoL.There’s more important stuff to discuss. Both are desperate to vent to someone they could trust. They may disagree on things, but generally they vibe pretty well with Ardbert.

A lil shoutout to @agent-jaselin​ for commenting this under the respective episode. I almost forgot to point it out while making this post. Vivi tries to see if he can relate to another WoL, if his struggles are valid, or if he’s overreacting to a typical hero life. Ardbert had a whole friend group adventuring alongside him, the Scions don’t measure up unfortunately, on top of that Vivi (emotionally) stays the fuck away from anyone post-ARR for their own protection (and his own if he ends up losing someone else), so it’s not quite the same experience for him.

One of the few redeeming qualities: Vivi keeps his word. This's gonna be relevant in like 2025 :'>

He baby, THAT’S his problem.

From pointing his spear at him to comfortably undressing and falling asleep in his vicinity. Ardbert's possibly the first man to be asked to stay and not get laid by Vivi :’>

While the Crystarium and its people seem nice, it’s still Vivi’s first day (one loooooong day since the beginning of chapter 2) in a brand new world, and Ardbert’s the only somewhat familiar person here. A ghost? Even better. The supernatural’s easier to deal with and is less likely to backstab you.

The sweet-voiced hooded guy says that it’s okay, that he’s safe here.... Yeah that on itself is a flag for our mr doubter. He’s grown reasonably paranoid since ARR, (almost) everything he does has a nice cynical-flavored logic to it.

While this’s a wolgraha comic, it’d be bland without support characters. Ardbert doesn’t play a massive role in this particular story, still you’ll keep seeing him here and there.

The next several episodes focus on the main two and Feo Ul, they’ll claw their way in even if they were left out x’D

[sterekchub]

Maybe Stiles has a spell put on him without his knowledge and it makes him a thoughtless glutton? An almost hypnotic effect + some rapid weight gain? He manages to text Derek that he doesn't feel great before his mind can only send him hunger signals, and by the time Derek shows up he's cleared out the fridge and the pantry and has ordered a comical amount of food to be delivered, his mind only focused on more. As much as Derek would love to get to the bottom of whatever spell is messing with Stiles, he gets roped into feeding him instead. Eventually he has the rest of the pack come by to help, getting their ditzy human comfortable before feeding him almost non-stop. The spell wears off after a few days, but by then Stiles can't lift a finger, and his packmates are happy to keep pampering him and teasing him for being so greedy.

There is something great about the "eats so much his stomach is practically the size of the room" until the spell passes and Stiles finds his stomach shrinking down - but the pounds piling on and softening him up everywhere. So - this is a little bit of...comically fat and fantasy BIG (but I love that trope so...) When Derek gets Stiles' text, he rushes over. Happens to run into the delivery guy who is carrying several boxes of pizza which Derek pays for and carries in to some confusion. He walks in to see Stiles sitting in front of the empty freezer and fridge, belly packed tight and resting proudly in his lap. "Did you eat all of this?" "'m hungry," Stiles burps. Derek sort of kicks through the remains of jars and ice cream containers. "You ate a jar of mayo?"

"I guess. Don't remember." "These pizzas were FROZEN, you're supposed to cook them!" Stiles shrugs, then clutches his belly with both hands as another wave of hunger hits him. "I'm so hungry, Derek." Derek texts the pack an SOS, as Stiles continues to groan and complain he's hungry. Derek gets Stiles to his feet, and Stiles immediately heads over to the pizza boxes and bends over the counter and starts eating. He finishes in record time and Derek can see that Stiles gut has gotten visibly wider. But despite having eaten 3 pizzas, Stiles is still nearly crying that he's hungry. He sounds almost like he's in pain so Derek gives in and runs to the pantry and starts emptying it, tearing off wrappers and tossing the contents to Stiles. Cookies, granola bars, plain cereal, even uncooked Pasta seems to happily satisfy Stiles' growing need. **** When the pack arrives, Derek sends some of them off to research the spell, and the others off to buy food. When it becomes clear that Stiles is eating faster than they can feed him - Derek gets desperate. He can't handle the desperate "N-Need ...*gulp*... more ...*gnash*... I'm ...*slosh*... s-sho hungry." coming from Stiles. Delivery takes too long, there's no food left in the house..so the solution becomes move Stiles to the food. Takes a bag of snack food Scott ran to get from the closest gas station, and then Stiles in the car, the entire time holding his beach-ball-sized belly nearly in tears asking Derek "why won't you feed me? I'm so hungry. We need to get food..." (In some fantasy bullshit move - Derek just throws a good chunk of the Hale fortune at the local grocery store owner - maybe the spell extends some level of hypnotic effect to him too- and he agrees to just - sell Derek everything in the store and closes down.)

Stiles RUNS in, belly bouncing in front of him, and the first thing he comes across is the soda display. He wastes no time- starts unscrewing the caps, tossing them to the side, and guzzling the 2liters down in under two minutes. (The entire pack stops and stares and asks Derek if they should let him keep going, and Derek doesn't have a good answer other than "Yes, or he gets upset." Which...he knows is terrible and enabling but what else can they do?) Stiles guzzles his way through about 200 liters of soda before he falls to the ground with a sloshing noise like waves hitting the beach, his belly so comically wide it was now covering his feet.

"D-Derek, ...*hfffbUAARRP*... I ...*uhhhnn*... need ...*Buaaaaarp*... m-more ...*burRRPPpp*... I'm ...*uhhmm*... shtill ... h-hungry." "Feed him!" Derek orders. They all spread out and start rushing food over to Stiles. Cooked or not, frozen or not, it didn't seem to matter to the black hole that was Stiles' growing belly. When the tubs of ice cream were out? He started sucking on bottles of hot fudge. The entire bakery depleted and all the loaves of bread? He started sticking two fingers into jars of jelly and peanut butter to make quick work of emptying their contents. His middle keeps expanding. The pack piles up food on his belly, until Stiles arms start being able to reach less and less and then they start cramming the food directly into his mouth. Butter. Tubs of sour cream. Heavy cream. Milk. Mountains of chocolate bars. Cookie dough. With eat bite and swallow, Stiles was growing wider and wider until he started vanishing into a massive fat sphere of his belly. When the store is mostly depleted, Stiles finally seems to wake out of the spell. Looks around in confusion before, " N-No ...*urrRPPphh*... more. ...*ehhphh*... I'm ...*hnnff*... t-too ...*uhhhmm*... full. ...*nggnhh*..." Derek just stares at the mountains of trash, the to Stiles, who is far too fat to get out of the front doors or even the loading dock, and wonders what the hell to do next. Doesn't have anything to really say except "Oh, are you finally done? Are you sure?" "You ate the entire store!" "I don't think you're fat enough, should we roll you to a chocolate factory next?" The spell hits the next phase- Stiles eyes are rolling back in his head as an orgasmic feeling hit him - all that food packed in his belly starts turning to fat. Derek watches him go from a "belly the size of a house attached to a skinny body" to double chins, flabby arms, belly shrinking to the size of a full-person beanbag. He's still too fat to stand, panting and eyes fluttering as the sensation fades, but he can at least now wiggle his toes and move his arms once more. "We....we can fix this, right?" He looks to Derek. "Right?" Derek doesn't answer.

"Should we keep feeding him?"

"I bet he could clean out a Costco!"

"He's already too fat to move...it doesn't matter if he gets fatter."

Stiles looks nervous. "N- no. I can lose this! I can walk! Can someone just...help me up?" Derek goes over to him, poking a finger into Stiles' side. It disappears into his fat roll. "Yeah, let's keep feeding him."

[vlovebug]

Valentine headcannons because I can.

turning and after (I can't find why he was turned so I'm making my own way) and general

(I'll be honest some of these don't make sense but neither do I)

(I'm taking things from other vampire movies and applying them to monster-high vampires, mainly The Little Vampire ( 2007), all Hotel Transylvania movies, and some things from redacted audios ( yes I pulled this card so what)

he was turned only because of that old vampire dude (I forgot his name but he was the bad guy that was in charge of the vampire heart thing) needed a soldier and he had a magic core, so he was chosen with his mom

he had his magic core (power core or something) before his turning.

old vampire dude taught him that stealing love was the only right way to get it.

he was forced to train in many ways. ( fighting, torture, self-defense, etc)

at first, he refused to drink any type of blood because he was disgusted with himself, so he only went off love but that soon changed as he wasn't getting enough.

he was told if he didn't do something right, he would be starved ( cruel)

he struggled with his strengths for a long while, breaking things and bending them without warning. because of this, he has to keep a very good hold on his emotions ( news flash, he can't do that very well)

his fangs would cut his lips and tongue constantly so they had to put stuff on his fangs to protect his mouth ( modern stuff includes foram and just hiding his fangs in his gums)

he has to make himself look more human when going out ( fangs back into gums, sunglasses, something longsleeved or something that covers his skin from the sun rays, he will also just make glamors( magic covers) over himself if he's feeling lazy)

he can heal himself and others if needed (I've seen vampires be able to do that so all vampires that learn it can do it)

all vampires' eyes do that thing where the pupils shrink ( predator stare), some do it on purpose and some only do it when threatened.

his eye color can go from red to pink depending on if he drank blood or went off love. his eyes are pink 80% of the time

he can make illusions but depending on the size it can only last so long.

he can fly ( more like float but it is kinda of the same thing)

all vampires have bat forms ( we know this where am I going with this?)but they can also have a pair of small bat wings and tails on their forms at all times ( kinda like a hybrid of sorts, this is only the case if they get their bat form and go through a transformation ( vampire puberty )

he makes bat sounds (I love bat sounds, they itch my brain)

he likes putting his hair in styles his mom used to wear in BC ( or was it AD?)

he has daggers hidden on his person at all times because of monster/ vampire hunters

he likes to make fun of and torture hunters

he artistic

15 languages ( both verbal and nonverbal)

he can't sing but boy can he hum

has had his core touched and he punched the shit out of the person that did the touching out of shock.

he doesn't use his arms or hands in fights often because he likes kicking people

cries blood instead of water

has a pet reptile ( haven't decided which one)

has a HUGE soft spot for animals ( less for flying monkeys but he still loves the nice ones)

absolutly hates tomaotes, apples, bellpepers, anything with a bad texture, smell, or colour ( same)

we know he has a sweet tooth but I think he wouldn't like dark chocolate (I'm just giving him more of my traits at this point)

he bites ice cream and then whines when it hurts his teeth from the cold

he accidentally locks himself in places you wouldn't expect ( expert in finding spots that get you stuck 🤝)

in the comic thing, he's not seen till he's ready. based on that I would think that He is really hard to find when he doesn't want to be seen and can hide his presence ( how does that work? We will never know)

He can't spell nor remember easy words but can somehow be completely fine with large words ( ah yes another of my problems given to my comfort character)

he has a heart on his chest ( did I say this already?)

hes flexible as fuck ( military training ?)

he teaches spelldon and others he knows stuff that they wanna learn ( if he knows how ofc)

he never lies ( after the movie ofc) because he knows the truth will only hurt more with lies.

can be protective when with people

Mom friend ( mom friend)

( if they become friends) Draculaura tottled his car once and he's banned her from driving his car ( I would too)

can braid hair like no other, you need to fix your hair? he's there with a hair tie ( only if you tell him the can ofc)

I'm done, my brain is fried and I'm losing my ability to spell.

[scruffyplayssonic]

Are the ArchieSonic comics actually an 80's/90's syndicated cartoon? Episode 57: Can't eat favourite food

Welcome back to my look at the ArchieSonic comic series, and how it shared a lot of the same story tropes as a typical ‘80s or ‘90s syndicated cartoon! We’re getting close to the end of the series now, so what classic cartoon trope are we looking at today?

Episode 57: Can't eat favourite food 

Ahh, okay. I feel like this one’s a little less common in mainstream media, to be honest. When it does show up, it’s often used to signal to either the audience or the other characters that there’s something seriously wrong with that character. They could be sick, or under the effects of a curse or spell, or could even be a villain disguised as the main character.

That being said, I can think of two instances when Sonic couldn’t stomach the idea of eating his trademark favourite food (and one instance when everyone else couldn’t stomach it either), and none of them were used to hint that there was something wrong with Sonic. In fact, our first instance went in the exact opposite direction. That would be when Sonic and Tails wound up in Sandblast City in issues #62 and 63. I’ll be covering this one in a bit more detail in an upcoming episode, but the long story short is that Sonic and Tails found themselves in a city full of people who idolised Sonic for defeating Robotnik, and were hoping to trick him into staying with them full time to fight the constant robot attacks on their city. How did they go about trying to convince Sonic to stay?

By pampering him with around the clock massages and chilli dogs, of course!

At first Sonic seemed thrilled at all the attention he was getting, while Tails was eager to just leave Sandblast City and get back to their mission of hunting down the evil wizard Ixis Naugus. However at some point Sonic realised that he was being played, but kept up the charade so that the Sandblasters wouldn’t figure out that he was on to them. 

When even Sonic the Hedgehog thinks he’s had too many chilli dogs, that’s when you know you’ve crossed a line.

An earlier instance of Sonic not being able to stomach the idea of eating chilli dogs happened way back in issue #11.

This extremely trippy story once again saw Sonic gorge himself on too many chilli dogs, and this time it caused him to have a bad dream.

Like, really bad.

When Sonic awoke he solemnly vowed to eat more responsibly.

…that vow lasted all of thirty seconds. xD

I’m reluctant to bring up this last story again, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t. You may remember in a previous episode that I discussed how Sonic #33 is an issue that lives in infamy, and its plot kicks off once again because of chilli dogs.

Yup, the Freedom Fighters were so sick of chilli dogs that they fell for the most obvious trap ever. Seriously, Team Rocket had traps that were more subtle, and the Freedom Fighters still fell for this. That said, I would like to acknowledge that this comic was decades ahead of its time, showing both the importance of wearing masks to help prevent spreading disease (although Rotor really ought to be wearing a mask too) and the dangers of ordering from fast food delivery companies like Doordash and Uber Eats. 😛

Now if Tails or Rotor had been spared from the French Fryrus, they probably would have gotten to work trying to synthesise a vaccine. Sonic isn’t really brainy enough to do that, so he settled for the next best thing:

Yup, shrinking himself down to a size small enough to run down Rotor’s throat and try to punch the virus into submission. And it was here that he met…

…I can’t. I can’t with this stupid issue, I just can’t. 😛 The puns by themselves are bad enough, but the idea of all the Freedom Fighters’ immune systems being sentient creatures who just couldn’t be bothered fighting this disease annoys me.

Anyway, Sonic was able to fight off the grunts easily enough, but struggled a bit more when he got to the boss fights, Paris-site (sigh) and Fever.

Fortunately for him, Rotor’s (SIGH) Auntie Bodies was inspired to take up the fight again.

She also called her counterparts in the other Freedom Fighters and told them to get off their lazy butts and do their jobs too.

So in the end the day was saved, and Sonic gave everyone the perfect food for when you’re sick:

Well, close enough.

Were there any other instances of Sonic or other characters in ArchieSonic not being able to eat their favourite foods? Remind me of any that I missed in the comments! The next episode I'll be looking at is one that arguably fits the entire Sonic franchise: “We have to save the environment, and so do you!” See you then!

[desultory-novice]

Has anybody ever pointed out that "Kirby's Triumphant Return," the song that, from what I can tell, was originally composed FOR Marx's defeat, plays towards the end of CROWNED? And the Wiki even points out that it's "notably played in its original key like in its Kirby Super Star incarnation?"

Not to me, at least! I’m fascinated though! (Especially as a huge fan of the "not-really-a-true-trio-but-I-get-happy-brain-when-the-three-of-them-interact-in-fan-material" trio of Kirby, Marx, and Magolor.)

Because while it has been tied more into moments of Kirby's heroism (and some stuff w/ Meta Knight) and is basically a leitmotif FOR "Kirby the Hero" it's just interesting to me that it ties back to Marx.

You can say that Nightmare was Kirby's first big world saving Adventure (ba-dump tish) but then, Marx's defeat sort of eclipses (ba-dump tish) that.

But now...

I'm very curious about the origins of its composition! Especially since Sakurai's lore drop about Kagero Mansion made me increasingly sure that Galactic Nova, at least, was originally designed for that sub-game! (Marx COULD have been designed for something else, or even a placeholder boss when they decided to cut the Nova boss fight, but he’s rife w/ horror elements and Kagero was going to be a horror-themed sub-game....) Basically, was there a chance that piece was originally composed for Kagero Mansion as well?

And then, to hear that it's used in its original key for CROWNED (even though it has been used in many other places) makes this fan of the trickster-y duo's heart sing!!  (Brief Aside: I wish we had an easy word like "Donozura"(1) for them in English that’s not their pairing name. < Speaking as someone who loves the pairing too.)

...Until Marx makes any sort of canon return outside the specious circumstances of Star Allies, it's hard to defend this theory, but I really believe that there is SOMETHING important tying Marx and Magolor to Kirby lore. The clockwork star stuff. Ancients. Their connections to Elfilis and Void...

Anyway, I fear that to connect the use of the leitmotif to any deeper associations involved with fighting the two of them steers straight into HC/wishful thinking territory, but I have seen a couple of doujinshi/fan comics that have portrayed Kirby making that internal comparison themself, and I love it. That something about fighting Magolor resembles having to fight Marx. (And it's not just the betrayal. I, personally, think there's a note of tragedy behind them both being warped physically by their own twisted desires. (2))

But yeah! More connections! (...Should I add it to The List...?)

--

(1) "Donozura" is short for (loose EN translation) "What makes you think YOU think you can waltz back in here and call yourself a (Dream) ‘Friend’?!" and is used generally to refer to Marx & Magolor, and sometimes Marx, Magolor, and DMK in the JP fandom.

(2) I've seen the "true form" discussion (aka, that little Marx always looked like Boss Marx that and he was just hiding) and I still lean toward Marx's boss form being somehow related to the power of the Nova. Maybe he could spawn little claw-wings, and the Nova just boosted his power? But I feel like if he were always capable of doing THAT why even get Kirby involved in the first place? You could say he was just lazy, but that feels like an out-of-story excuse.

And there’s also the fact that his most recent appearance, by his own creator, Sakurai, in Smash Bros Ultimate, has him lose the wings and shrink back down to size when he is defeated. If the hell-bat was his default form, why in the world would he transform back into the “illusion” after defeat?

...But I feel the same way about Magolor and "If he were always capable of that kind of magic, why not just take on Landia himself?!" Of course, the novel - which I think is the main source of him always having magic - doesn't confirm he has POWERFUL magic, just that he has a little bit of magic. I mean, all he ever does pre-Crown is a very basic light spell.

(And it's the novel, which is still it's own thing. I think the Star Allies guide, if I recall, supports the "he kept some remnants of the Master Crown's power and that's why he's able to do all this" theory for SA Magolor. Which makes a lot more sense than him always being able to rip holes in the fabric of space.)

[emcacolville]

worldbuilding ramble

i guess this is the best place for it, so i would like to do a little talkytalk about some aspects of the world building that i find interesting that i've taken time to flesh out. (if ur new here, i'm em, i'm writing a comic called Miko's Midnight Meowsterpieces that i'm soon to be publishing on webtoon.)

re: magic and herbology

in this world, magic is dying out. it is so rarely practised anymore, that magical artefacts are worth a fortune, and most wizards keep their abilities to themselves, since magic users are so hard to come by, and every wizard's personal Well of Power* is limited. the limit is very difficult to breach during the lifetime of a wizard, unless they were to extend their lifespan, in which case, let's say their power lasts 100 years, if used fairly sparingly.

power is not something that can be diluted when passed down through families, or from teacher to student. each person who comes into that power, has their own personal source that they call to. so in way, its more like their well of power is unlocked when they are Cloaked* or born. so, in the grand scheme of things, technically, anyone could become a wizard, but also, not *just* anyone.

there are legends of wizards that had unlimited wells of power, but only because they bent the rules surrounding use of magic, like how there are some loopholes with genie powers, and you technically could summon more magic power with magic. this is very much frowned upon, but also, wizards like this don't exist anywhere in the immediate vicinity of Miko's world, save a few references by other characters here and there.

dependant on the size/strength of the spell, enchantment, curse, or magic-imbued potion/item, different amounts of power are used. power is inquantifiable, but for the reader's sake, you can think of it as MP*. we could say that a sleep aid potion would take 1MP to imbue with magic, whereas a transformation curse that affects an entire bloodline would use 500MP. it is impossible for anyone, excluding the magic user themself, to determine exactly how much power they have left, which is why, for the fun of mystery, i won't tell you how much power each wizard starts with >:)

also, i'll leave some examples of how much power different spells/imbuements/curses could take, so you can get a better idea of things:

an enchantment on a living creature that means they can fly at will. effective until death of target or removed - 150MP

an imbuement on an artist's easel that means the easel can shrink to a portable size, and expand at will. effective until intentional destruction of magical item - 35MP

a transformation spell that turns a cat into a donkey. effective until removed, or until target falls asleep - 5MP

but in the world Miko walks, wizards are hard to find, and most are in hiding because they don't want to be extorted for their power. in its place, however, herbology is on the rise.

herbology is a popular profession, and some believe it to be the "new magic". the issue is, however: herbology can be practised by anyone, and magic can only be used by those who have either have been Cloaked, or are born into a magic-using family.

due to the lack of magic in the world, some herbologists have even gone as far as to scam people, and pretend that their wares have been magically imbued, where in actual fact, they're just some strange concoction of ingredients that kind of do the job.

in a way, herbology is more complex than magic. there is still an element of gathering specific ingredients for a potion in both lines of work, but magic potions are more focused on the magic side of things. the only ingredients they need to add are to form the base of the potion, and the actual imbuement is what gives it real power. in herbology, sourcing those ingredients is the most important part, as those ingredients are what give it power.

for example, a creativity elixir. sounds simple enough? a magic user would only need to form the base of the potion (with drinkable ingredients), and then imbue it with the magical effects they want it to have. in this case, it would be the effect of simply making them feel more inspired, and wanting to create artwork.

but if we're talking about a herbologists creativity elixir, not only would they need to source ingredients to form the base of the potion, they've got to find ingredients to produce the same or simlar effects, and add them to the mix. a herbologist could use ingredients like stinky cheese, chamomile, and valerian, and it would create a potion that would put you to sleep, and give you very vivid dreams. the kind of vivid dreams that could potentially inspire an artist?

one more thing about herbology and magic: there are wizards that have willingly used their power to imbue crop fields, seeds, or even entire forests/natural regions, and this has created magic ingredients. this was a way that some wizards found to share their power with common people, who would otherwise not have access to magic. it was a very generous use of their power, as this would have taken immense amounts of MP, but there were wizards, that once upon a time, thought it more important to be able to share their power to be used for good, rather than keep it all to themselves. some of these ingredients can be used in herbology to make powerful concoctions, - good and bad- but like all magic items, they either come at a high price, or are extremely hard to find.

if you've made it this far, thank you! and keep eyes peeled for Miko's Midnight Meowsterpieces when its out :3

*glossary: - Cloaked: to be deemed as a magic user in a rite performed by dying wizards - Well of Power: a wizards personal supply of magic power within themselves. - MP: a term commonly used in fantasy RPG videogames, referring to Mana Points. - spell: short term magic, effective until target falls asleep, or in the case of summoning spells, lasts until the spell-caster stops concentrating on it. it is not possible to use any other kind of magic whilst focusing on a summoning spell. if performed on a target, it is always removed when target falls asleep, and the spell-caster can use other kinds of magic after this. - enchantment: long term magic, effective until the caster removes it, or death of the target. generally costs more MP than spells do. in the case of summoning enchantments, the longer it lasts, and the more powerful the summon, the more MP it costs. if performed on a person, it is only an enchantment if it is either for the obvious betterment of a target and/or with their consent. in the case of targets who cannot communicate, like creatures that aren't already enchanted to speak, it only has to be for their betterment. - curse: also long term magic, and basically just like enchantments, but against consent, and most often with negative impact. curses are to enchantments the same way nightmares are to dreams. - imbuement: the process of making an item magical, or creating magic potions. effective until potion is drank, or the other ingredients in the potion have expired, or the magical item is destroyed.

[sevdonic]

double-edged wand (ao3)

chapter 13: one for the road

sharing one of my favorite scenes from my Aesop Sharp/Severus Snape/reader love triangle fic.

Takes place in your background at your family’s annual Christmas party.

Who said cozying up with your DADA professor and your father’s old service buddy was a bad idea?

Pivoting slightly, your dress slips a bit further down, exposing more of your shoulder. Your eyes cast back over the smooth, bare skin and lock onto his gaze. The glint in your eyes is unmistakably mischievous, sweetly softened by the haze of alcohol.

"Hey," you murmur, your voice a cocktail of sugar and spice that dances through the air.

"Hey there," he echoes, his own eyes narrowing to match your flirtatious energy. "You seem to be giving me a run for my money in the drinking department tonight." He gestures over to the array of empty glasses in front of you two.

Your smile morphs into a sly, knowing grin as you lean back against the couch, taking care to position yourself so that his arm, still draped casually over the back of the sofa, now practically embraces you.

"I knew I would," you proclaim, the words charged with a captivating blend of self-assurance and playful banter. In that moment, he can't help but notice the flush in your cheeks—a clear, if charming, hallmark of your intoxication. The flirtatious lilt in your voice confirms that the night's alchemy of firelight, laughter, and alcohol has worked its magic on you both.

Suddenly, raucous laughter and excited shouts from the lawn capture everyone's attention. Apparently, someone's conjured floating orbs that release unpredictable bursts of wind, sending everyone's robes and hair flying about in comic disarray. It's the perfect blend of wizarding skill and slapstick humor, fire and smoke, enough to draw even the most inebriated of partygoers off the patio and into the game.

Seizing this opportune moment, you swing your legs onto his lap. He raises an eyebrow at you, questioning your audacity. Your response is a picture of innocence, a gentle shrug as you nurse your drink. It's a game of show and tell now, and while you're showing coy innocence –a mix of casual ease and deliberate intimacy– he's telling himself an entirely different story.

Leaning against the corner of the couch, you're turned towards him, effectively making your worlds shrink down to this charged space between you. The weight of your legs on his lap, the playful look in your eyes, and your endearing tipsiness have him contemplating all manner of indecorous thoughts.

For a man like him, fluent in the language of desire, your posture speaks volumes, and he listens intently to every unspoken word.

His voice drops to a sultry whisper, barely audible over the rambunctious laughter and spell-fueled antics unraveling on the lawn. He gestures toward Lawrence, who is now theatrically dueling wands with that other man, both clearly in high spirits. "Sorry I scared off your friend over there."

Aesop Sharp knows he's not sorry. Far from it, actually. And judging by the look in your eyes—half-lit by mischief, half by the firelight—you're well aware of it too.

"Oh, you think you're that intimidating?" you retort, your words tinged with flirtatious irony.

The intoxicating blend of alcohol and tension winds itself tightly around him, awakening a desire to show you just how 'intimidating' he can truly be. It's a dangerous thought, one that might slip from fantasy to reality if the night continues along this electrically charged path.

He leans back slightly, locking eyes with you as if daring you to raise the stakes. "I have my moments. I think Lawrence picked up on that."

"Or maybe he thought we'd have more interesting things to talk about," you counter, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

The fabric of your off-shoulder dress slips further down, exposing even more of your soft skin to the firelight's glow. Coupled with the fact that one wrong –or very right– move on your part could allow him the slightest glimpse of your cleavage, he could certainly think of a plethora of 'interesting things' he'd like to discuss. In fact, it's a challenge to keep his thoughts solely on the conversation.

"And are we? Having an interesting conversation?" His tone leaves little room for doubt; he's moving onto a playing field where he sets the rules, and the transformation is beguiling. His thoughts take a turn toward the predatory, his inner alpha aroused by the chemistry between you.

He watches your lips curl into a smile so undeniably seductive it borders on sinful. The things he would do – could do – to you. But he doesn't lean closer; instead, he holds his ground, unyielding, making it clear he expects you to come to him. Holding back takes a conscious, almost Herculean, effort on his part.

"You tell me," you purr, and the magnetic allure in your voice tugs at him—hard. It does nothing to relax his already twitching cock underneath your legs.

As if to punctuate your statement (or somehow read his mind), you bend one leg, placing your foot casually atop his thigh. The action causes your dress to inch further up your legs, and for a brief, electrifying moment, he's nearly convinced that a quick glance downward would reveal far more than you intend.

Then again, with the way you're looking at him, perhaps it's entirely intentional.

"Oh, I intend to," he murmurs, not breaking eye contact, not closing what remains of the gap between you. He remains in place, emanating a sense of command that he knows you can feel.

[kaiteki-dons]

We might not post a comic strip this week. Luca got sick and sinner has been struggling with tech and moving.

In the meantime, have these snippets. Wiz made a spell that temporarily shrinks someone, but only their organic form (poor tiny) and when they're littled, they cant speak, they can only chirp and stuff. Only Dad understands the chirps.

First was Tiny, and tiny tiny is aggressive and angry.

Phet hangs out on Tiny when he's shrunk.

The feral bois are sorta the hardest to manage (mainly Bitey)

Dad only let's Aggie and Wiz hold him since hes sure any of the others might throw him on purpose. (Doesnt mean hes happy about being squished by his son, lol)

Phet and Bingo absolutely have the kind of friendship that comes off as them hating each other, and no one has figured it out yet. (Hehe, hamburger Phet) (no turtles were eaten in the making of this)

Wiz and Aggie are put on a bucket while they play and everyone else just adores them.

I call this one: Bingo is a little shit that does not know when to stop teasing the magic turtle.

I have a LOT more of Tiny being tiny if anyone wants some.

[impishtubist]

I know that post about Remus and Sirius’ heights was (I think??? Most probably???) a joke but you should totally write a fic with them having a comically large height difference for the lols

Okay so here's how the fic writing process for this would go:

First I'd have to figure out, are we going pure crack fic here? Is Remus five inches tall and everyone else is normal height and it's never addressed ever? Remus just rides around on pockets or people's shoulders and talks in a high, squeaky voice, and also fistfights Wormtail whenever he's transformed? Does he transform into a tiny, vicious werewolf once a month?

Or is it a spell gone wrong or a potions accident? Do I make up a logical reason for why Remus is so tiny?

And then I have to consider the sex aspect. Because Sirius and Remus are obviously boyfriends. But like. Remus is smaller than Sirius's cock! How is that going to work! What if Remus's height can't be fixed and he's stuck like that forever?

And then my brain goes, duh, Sirius obviously takes a shrinking potion whenever he wants to get it on with Remus, and then after they have sex, he returns to normal size.

And then my brain short circuits because this idea is too ridiculous, and I don't get a word of it written.

But if someone else wants to be bullied into writing this..........

[adoptsomecookies]

howdy! you said hero cookies are good for beginners, do you have any tips on how to care for them? i’m thinking of gettin one for myself :>

* Of course, Soap! I would be happy to give you advice! (Lovely clip of Kirby Mass Attack as your blog header btw, a childhood game of mine and Dedede Resort is such a nice place to relax in when it comes to the minigame areas)

* Hero Cookies are extremely good beginner cookies for those who are inexperienced with accommodating daily nesscsities for their biscuit friends as they are extremely intelligent and are more than happy to be living encyclopedias should the situation call for it, plus they don't need much unique accommodations like a Millennial Tree Cookie, Clover Cookie, or many many other cookie types. All they need is a room of their own, a bed, clothes, food and water! They will decorate rooms to their liking if given time and funds to do so. Something to note is that Hero Cookies can have shy spells every now and then where they just seem to shrink into themselves, thankfully, these are very few and far in between, and some good old classic alone time is usually enough to get them back up on their feet.

* Aside from that, Hero Cookies aren't exactly the biggest fans of large events like concerts, but may adore a comic-con or the like if done sparingly with breaks in between to let them recover, its the massive crowds of people that sets them on edge, usually. All hero cookies also come with a suit of sorts that they can wear periodically after a charging period should they need to defend themselves, but hopefully it never has to come to that.

* If you ever have any questions on cookie nesscissities or general caretaking, don't hesitate to send me an ask!

[i-did-not-mean-to]

The Diary of Jane Doe - Part III

On the subject of the bookseller & of Chibi-villains...

@melkors-big-tits...please stop enabling me. There's another two chapters written already 🤣🤣

-> Part II

Words: 1,4k

Warnings: Nudity, a fire, tiny villains, and skipping work

October 20th - Part I

Jane – queen of mediocrity – felt that a monumental change had taken place as soon as she woke up with a prodigiously massive headache.

Tumbling out of bed, disoriented, she shook her head carefully to dispel the auditory hallucinations of a cat rummaging through her living room. She had no cat; she had never had any kind of pet other than the hamster that had died on her 15th birthday.

Upon attempting to grab a fresh pair of knickers though, she had to stifle a sharp cry – it came out as a whistling, pathetic whine instead – when her eyes fell on the curled-up creature sighing happily in his slumber. It was only then that she fully remembered just what egregious malarky she had gotten up to the previous night.

She also recalled that Melkor – the unusual and potentially lethal entity who had answered her call – didn’t like being left alone and, as she was not ready to take a literal demon into the shower with her, she decided to simply let him sleep a little longer while she tried to wash away the stench of her nightly overindulgence.

Her wound stung viciously and – for the first time in her life – Jane decided that she would call into work sickeven though her health was, as of now, impeccable if one did not take into account her bruised and bloodied finger.

So, my girl, she spoke to herself gravely as she stood under the warm spray, you have bought a book from a strange grey-eyed, long-haired, pointy-eared weirdo because you were desperate and lonely and then you have woefully bungled the summoning spell, effectively not only pulling an unknown individual into your world but also shrinking said being to a truly unimpressive size.

So far, so good. Nothing that could not be reversed…even though she had no idea where Melkor had come from and hence did not know into which hole to cram him to be rid of him again.

Moreover, he had literally threatened her with a “good” time.

The water was running cold by now and – despite her feeling much restored by the healing lukewarm shower – she could not help still imagining that she heard crashing and tearing noises and a soft whooshing akin to the whispering of a small fire.

Alarmed, she sprang out of the shower – nearly hitting her head against the doorframe when she slipped on the wet tiles - and ran back to her room.

Something warm and furry slapped into her face and she stumbled back in confusion.

It took a moment for her to pry off this new threat and Jane was horrified to discover that it was a small, exceedingly cute-looking bat staring up at her with a comically angry expression on its sweet, little face.

“Thuri, that’s our host, leave her be…” Melkor called and then grinned cockily at Jane, his black, sharp smile infuriatingly triumphant. “My forces have arrived!”

There was evident pride in his voice and demeanour and Jane didn’t have the heart – nor the time – to comment on the fact that his forces were but three other entities, all of them just as small as he was himself. 

The lack of opportunity was mainly due to the fact that her duvet was on fire.

With three leaping steps, she was beside her bed and wrung out her dripping hair over the small, merrily dancing flame which sizzled out immediately.

“Hey,” someone called, and she looked down on an animated porcelain doll; this one at least was dressed in some finely woven coat over intricately embroidered leggings and a stunning tunic.

“Do not drop Thuri,” Melkor urged and so reminded Jane of the fact that she was still holding the feral creature that had flown into her face in the most literal of senses.

Carefully, she set the strange bat down beside the doll and the wet, singed spot in her favourite duvet.

"How do I get rid of you?” she cried out in exasperation; having one not-devil to look after was curse enough, she – who had ever shirked any real responsibility – did not feel ready to cater to two person-shaped abominations, one miniature bat, and something that looked like a truly unfortunately-shaped lizard.

“You cannot,” Melkor smirked, “you have signed in your blood. You’ve summoned me, you’ve made your demands, I have offered you a solution, and you have not denied me. We are – for better or for worse, and let’s be honest, it will be “worse” – your creatures now.”

“Why don’t you go back to whence you’ve come?” Jane asked, her pale fingers cramping in the scratchy fabric of her too-short and too-narrow bath towel; there was enough nudity in this room without her baring herself by accident.

“I’ve been naked and alone for too long. You cannot even fathom how bad it was,” Melkor replied in a hollow voice that sounded painfully honest; Jane was not sure if he was trying to manipulate her by tugging on her heartstrings, but his words did give her pause. “Let me help you and redeem myself. Mairon here is a devil – excuse the use of this highly incorrect term – when it comes to plans and both Thuri and Gotty are loyal and hard-working.”

Gotty, Jane surmised, had to be the reptilian monstrosity with the horns and the glittering scales. 

“Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, at your service,” the self-same creature purred in a low, gravelly voice. “What can we do for you?”

“Nothing,” Jane expostulated. “I yearned for a more interesting life, not to be haunted by unholy demons who set my flat afire and steal my underwear. I don’t even own plants because I am unable to take care of anything.”

“Well,” Gothmog – Lord of Balrogs, whatever those were – smiled in what Jane surmised was meant to be an expression of optimistic encouragement; she could not be entirely sure because his mouth was but a dark slash full of sharp-looking teeth, but he seemed to at least attempt a friendly grin. “We’re all dead already – don’t worry, it’s a very long story – but you cannot possibly kill us.”

“Also,” the bat added slyly, “we will let you know if we need anything. You see any relationship of service is a two-way street; you take care of us, and we take care of you.”

Jane frowned. “Are you like genies? Aren’t those supposed to be under my command?”

“Lady,” Melkor interrupted harshly, “stop comparing us to your strange chimaeras. We are what we are and nothing else.”

“Under your command?” the doll screeched, his golden-amber eyes flashing with an immense fury that far exceeded the scale of his tiny, fragile body.

“Thuri is right,” Gothmog cut in calmly, “even if we are here to serve you, there’s always a price to be paid and – most importantly – we are faithful creatures only if we’re treated respectfully.”

“Who taught you that?” Jane mumbled, shuffling behind her open wardrobe door to slip into her clothes without wearing any underwear as she didn’t want to disturb Melkor on his throne of lace.

“He did,” Mairon declared proudly and nodded into Melkor’s direction. 

Makes sense, Jane thought miserably as she felt her breasts sag unattractively beneath the beige blouse sticking uncomfortably to her still-wet skin; while she was not sure how she had summoned Melkor – the spilt wax must have changed the telephone extension so to say – she was entirely convinced that she had never called for a haunted doll, a smoking lizard, and a mouthy bat. Hence, it was safe to assume that those three had made their way through whatever portal she had created willingly to retrieve or even rescue their friend.

Resignation flooded her and – mingling with the fatigue and confusion – turned her mind into a muddy brown swamp; the colour was so comfortingly dull and familiar that Jane felt grounded once more.

“Off to the mall then,” she sighed, “so I can cater to your every whim. Let me just get a coffee real quick.”

“What is “a coffee”? Can I have some?” Melkor asked charmingly and extended his arms to her.

“Am I going to have to carry all of you around all the time now?” Jane groaned as she picked him up carefully, much to the glaring displeasure of the puppet from hell.

“Na,” Thuri replied, flapping her little wings, and perching on her shoulder, nestled close to the side of Jane’s throat. “You smell really nice.”

Collecting her demons and stuffing them into various pockets, Jane padded over to the kitchenette, wondering frantically if it would be a good idea to give the most excitable and energy-laden demons in the history of the occult coffee.

The longest day of poor Jane's life...

Lots of love from me 💕

-> Part IV