#skunk rule

[ghostshadow-k-r]

At first,I was struggling with her color tone,but it turns out quite okay I guess

Carillon Wish was one of the member of the volleyball club and an excellent player of it.She didn't have much friends,her best friend in school was Almond Roll.

But,Skunk Rule's appearance had changed it all.He forced them to obey all his gross and pervert orders or else that Carillon/Almond will get more hurt from that sick pervert.

In the end,Carillon could stand more of it and she decided to end her life right at the academy's rooftop.Pegasus's hollow bones had make her get more damages when she had fallen right from there.Her consciousness faded along with her last apologize to her friend.

Gladly,she gets to recover from all those damages,even though it takes years to deal with it.Even better,she could continue playing volleyball in the future.

[cryptidcowboy]

Halloween and fall has me thinking about my skunk sona, Morgue (they/them) 🎃

grandchild of an arranged marriage between a witch queen and a vampire queen, they are 3/4s witch and 1/4 vampire

[creepymutelilbugger]

grenade

[rocknrollerskates]

man my skunk icon is so awesome

[fastfists]

I will say, while Pender had an hand in creating some iconic characters...other writers usually did them the justice they deserved and made them better.

[bartonomy]

PUNCHES AND PRANKS

PAIRING James Potter x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS James disguises himself, gets punched and earns another addition to his embarrassment streak

CONTENT WARNING Hufflepuff slander I’m so sorry, Otto being another victim to the marauders’ bullying, injury, fluff!

WORD COUNT 3.0k words

library.

“You lot do realize this is a terrible idea, right?”

Remus, ever the reluctant voice of reason, crossed his arms as he stared at his three best friends. James, Sirius, and Peter were huddled around a small cauldron bubbling ominously in the corner of the boys’ dormitory. The potion inside smelled faintly of apricots and something vaguely musty, a sure sign that it was not brewed by a professional.

“Moony,” Sirius said with a dramatic sigh, slinging an arm over Remus’s shoulders. “You say that about every idea we have.”

“Because every idea you have is stupid.”

James, undeterred, grinned. “Innovative, Moons. Not stupid. There’s a difference.”

Peter nodded eagerly. “Yeah! This is groundbreaking! No one’s ever snuck into the Hufflepuff common room before!”

“Because no one wants to,” Remus deadpanned.

James scoffed. “That’s where you’re wrong, mate. The mystery! The secrecy! Have you ever met someone who’s been inside? Exactly. And besides, I heard they have enchanted sofas that give you hot chocolate when you sit on them.”

Sirius gasped in mock horror, nodding enthusiastically. “And you don’t think that’s worth breaking a few school rules for?”

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. “You lot are acting as if it's a restricted section. You could, you know, ask a Hufflepuff if they could describe it for you or even invite you in, instead of breaking into it with the idiotic idea of yours.”

“How dare you tell us to talk to the skunks,” James corrected. “And we are disguising, not breaking in. Completely different.”

“You stole Polyjuice ingredients from Slughorn’s office.”

“Borrowed,” Peter mumbled.

Remus exhaled slowly. “I don’t know why I even bother.”

James patted him on the back. “Because you love us.”

Remus muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “debatable.”

The transformation process was disgusting.

James had barely choked down his portion before his body started twisting and stretching in ways that were definitely not natural. His bones grew longer, his hair lightened, and within moments, he was no longer James Potter, but Otto Bagman, a slightly taller, broader, and very irrelevant Hufflepuff.

Sirius, now transformed into some poor bloke named Edgar Bones, examined himself in the mirror with an approving nod. “Not bad.”

Peter wobbled on unsteady feet. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Do not vomit on the carpet, Wormy,” James warned. “Old Minnie already thinks we’re heathens.”

Remus, who had wisely chosen to remain uninvolved, sighed from his bed. “I’ll start drafting the letter to your parents now, shall I?”

“Save the ink,” Sirius said cheerfully, clapping him on the back. “We’ll be back in two hours tops.”

That was, of course, a lie.

James was striding through the entrance hall, still trying to adjust to his temporary new form, when he saw you.

You, standing there in your usual spot in the corridor next to the Grear Hall, flipping through a book with a determined expression. You, looking ridiculously attractive in a way that made his heart do something very stupid and sentimental.

And he had an idea, an absolute brilliant idea. Would it get him into trouble? Most likely. Would it be worth it? Absolutely. Grinning to himself, he sauntered up to you, his Hufflepuff robes swishing around his way too long legs.

“Oi, darling, where are you off to in such a rush? Care to give me some company?”

Your entire body tensed. Firstly, because tou were just standing, in no rush at all, and secondly, because there was no way Otto Bagman had just tried to flirt with you. He did not talk like that. Otto spent most of his time complaining that the Hufflepuff common room was “too damp” and that badgers were “a deeply unfortunate mascot.” Otto Bagman’s idea of flirting was saying, You know, my brother plays for the Wimbourne Wasps, as if that was supposed to impress anyone. Well, moaning Myrtle would probably be giggling at the rubbish leaving his mouth, but on a second thought, she loved every walking being with a prick between their legs. You glanced over your shoulder, half expecting Sirius Black to be lurking in the shadows, laughing at some elaborate prank, but the corridor was empty.

You turned, blinking in mild confusion at the out of character Hufflepuff. “Pardon?”

James smirked. “Just thought I’d say you’re looking particularly stunning today.” He leaned against the wall opposite of you, tilting his head in what he assumed was an effortlessly cool manner, though he just looked absolutely ridiculous. “Fancy a walk, love?”

Otto-no, fake Otto, because you were 101% sure this wasn't real, and if it was, you were sure he was dating and snogging some Ravenclaw girl from your DADA class, and being seen hitting on you would cause another unnecessary scandal amongst the gossip-y students. The suspicious blonde pushed himself off the wall and took a step toward you. “No need to be so cold, sweetheart. Just thought I’d tell you you’re looking particularly stunning today.”

You were flabbergasted.

He had never addressed you as anything other than oi, can I borrow a quill? or hey, did you do the Potions homework? And now he called you love, darling, and sweetheart in the same conversation.

Otto Bagman, whom you barely knew, was trying to flirt with you.

“Not interested,” you deadpanned, stepping to the side.

But he effortlessly stepped with you, blocking your path. “C’mon, love, no need to make this so difficult.”

You narrowed your eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I’m taken.”

There was a flicker of something in his expression, surprise? Confusion? You didn’t know and quite frankly, didn’t care.

When he opened his mouth again, probably to say something equally idiotic, your eye twitched.

You stared at hard. He was expecting one of two reactions- either flustered stammering (ideal) or playful banter (acceptable). What he was not expecting was for you to square your shoulders, glare murderously, and yell at the top of your lungs:

“FOR GODRIC’S SAKE! I HAVE A BOYFRIEND, YOU ABSOLUTE SLUGGY PRAT!”

And then, without hesitation, you punched him in the face.

James had been hit with Bludgers before. He had been shoved off brooms, crashed into goalposts, and even tackled by Sirius during an overenthusiastic victory celebration.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, had prepared him for getting punched in the face by you.

Pain exploded across his nose. His head snapped backward, and for a split second, his vision blurred. He stumbled, his arms flailing wildly as he tried to regain his balance.

“Oh, bloody hell,” James groaned, voice nasally from the swelling.

But then he felt something shift inside of him.

Oh, no.

His body wobbled. His skin rippled. His bones twisted, stretching and reshaping in an absolute disgusting manner.

And then, suddenly, he was James Potter again. Bloodied, dazed, and standing in front of at least twenty horrified onlookers.

There was a beat of silence and you merely blinked twice.

He mirrored your blinking. “Oh,” James said dumbly.

Your mouth fell open in horror. “JAMES?!”

James managed a weak, bloody grin. “Er… surprise?” But his expression turned into a frown seconds later "Blimey, Bunny! What was that for!"

You stared at him, then at your own fist, then back at him. “Did I- did I just break my own boyfriend’s nose?” You shuddered

“Seems like it,” James croaked.

“And what—WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!” you screeched. " YOU WERE OTTO BAGMAN TWO SECONDS AGO, JAMES!”

More students are gathering now, whispering, pointing. Someone gasps. Someone else mutters, “Is that blood?”

James presses his sleeve to his nose, glaring at it. “Yep. Definitely blood. Excellent.”

“Oh my God, you are such an idiot-”

A new voice cut through the chaos.

"Mr. Potter.”

The entire crowd froze. James knew that voice. That voice haunted his dreams. Slowly-painfully- he turned his head.

Professor McGonagall stood there, lips pursed, eyes cold in a way that suggested she was already contemplating his punishment. Her arms were crossed, lips pursed in that terrifyingly disappointed way that made even the bravest students wither. She surveyed the scene: the scattered crowd, James’s bloodied face, him in a Hufflepuff uniform that is clearly too big for him, and the fact that he had just transformed out of Polyjuice Potion in the middle of the Great Hall.

James turned an alarming shade of pale. “Oh. Oh, no.”

McGonagall looked at him again, the crowd, the blood dripping from James’s nose, and his unusual uniform. Her expression darkened.

“Mr. Potter,” she said, voice dangerously calm. “Would you care to explain why you were impersonating another student?”

James swallowed hard. “Not particularly.”

Her eyes narrowed.

James caved immediately. “We, uh, might have, sort of, kind of borrowed some Polyjuice Potion?”

McGonagall inhaled sharply. “Borrowed?”

James winced. “Okay, stole is the word you’re looking for, probably.”

McGonagall closed her eyes briefly, as if asking Merlin for patience and strength. “I assume,” she said, voice tight, “this was another brilliant scheme of you and your babbling, bumbling band of baboons?”

“…Possibly. But you see, Min- Professor! It was all part of Sirius' pl-”

McGonagall let out a long, exhausted sigh. “Detention, Mr. Potter. Every evening for the next two weeks.”

James groaned. “Oh, come on, it was just a—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” she warned.

He wisely shut up.

You, still reeling from the shock of everything, could do nothing but stare. Professor McGonagall finally turned her gaze to you. “Are you hurt?”

You glanced at James, then the group of second years behind him and then back at her, still out of it. “Only my dignity.”

James gasped. “I did nothing wrong!.”

"Three weeks now, Mr. Potter" McGonagall turned to you next. “And you, Miss L/N, while I do not condone violence, I must say your right hook is… rather impressive.”

You flushed. “Thank you, Professor.”

McGonagall fixed James with one last glare. “I trust this will be the last time I find you using illegal potions for idiotic purposes?”

James hesitated.

McGonagall’s nostrils flared.

James straightened. “Yes, Professor. Absolutely. Never again.”

“Good,” McGonagall said crisply. “Then I will see you at eight o’clock sharp for your first detention.”

She turned to leave, then paused, glancing back at James’s crooked nose.

“And do get that looked at, Potter,” she added dryly. “Merlin knows you’ll need a functional nose if you insist on spending half your time flirting.”

James grinned. “Don’t worry, Professor, my natural charm is unstoppable.”

McGonagall looked up at the ceiling, as if debating whether she was paid enough for this. She sighed deeply, rubbing her temples. “You are both dismissed. Get out of my sight before I decide to extend his detention to a month.”

You quickly grabbed James’s arm, dragging him away from the whispering crowd.

“You punched me,” James mumbled for the fiftieth time as you made your way to the Gryffindor common room, forgetting the fact that his nose is still very much broken.

“Yes,” you said through gritted teeth. “Because you were flirting with me as another person, you absolute idiot.”

James winced as he pressed a handkerchief against his bleeding nose. “In my defense-”

“No.”

“Fair.”

Your eye twitched. “Care to explain, without coming up with excuses, what the hell you were doing?”

James flinched and let out a long-suffering sigh. “Right, so… Sirius had this brilliant idea, as you heard—”

“Oh, of course Sirius was involved.”

“-that we should try sneaking into the Hufflepuff common room using Polyjuice Potion, because, you know, we’ve never done it before-”

“Let me guess. You picked Otto Bagman because nobody would care if he mysteriously disappeared for an hour?”

James hesitated. “…I mean. I wasn’t going to say it like that.”

You groaned. “James, you absolute menace.”

James gave you a pitiful look. “In my defense, it was going really well until you punched me in the face.” For which he only got a glare from you

And after a moment, he peeked up at you with wide, hopeful eyes. “You were absolutely wicked, by the way. It was so hot”

You exhaled sharply. “Shut up before I give you a broken jaw to match your nose.”

James grinned, and despite yourself, you gave him a small smile back.

Then, just as he was about to say another surely ridiculous thing, you smirked.

“You know,” you mused, “Sirius is never going to let you live this down.”

James’s grin vanished.

“Oh, no.”

“You what?” Sirius Black howls with laughter, clutching his sides. “You got decked by your own girlfriend?”

A few hours later, the three boys, you, and your still injured boyfriend were huddled around the fireplace in the common room, everyone taking great joy in James' misfortune and big blow to his already tarnished reputation.

James scowls. “It was a misunderstanding.”

Remus, struggling not to laugh, clears his throat. “A misunderstanding where you hit on her while disguised as another boy?”

James grumbles. “It sounded romantic in my head.”

Peter snorts. “Yeah, mate. Real romantic. Oi, love, let’s take a walk while I pretend to be someone else.”

Sirius wheezes. “Oh, Prongs, I will never let you live this down.”

James scowls at all of them, then turns to you, expression pleading. “Bunny, please fix my nose.”

You cross your arms. “Hmm. I could.”

He brightens.

“But,” you continue, “I could also let you suffer for a while.”

His face falls. “Bunny, I'm a dying man!”

“You hit on me as Otto Bagman out of all people, James.”

Sirius erupts into fresh laughter, his hair falling over his eyes as he clutched his stomach.

James groans "You broke it!"

“Serves you right.” You exhaled sharply.

James gave you a pitiful look. “You’re not even a little sorry?”

You crossed your arms. “Are you sorry for pretending to be Otto and flirting with me?”

James hesitated. “Okay, yeah. Maybe a little sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and stood up from the carpet. “Come on, let’s get you to the Hospital Wing before you pass out from blood loss, idiot.”

James grinned, following after you. “So, just to clarify- does this mean I’m still your boyfriend, or do I have to woo you all over again?”

You threw him a glare over your shoulder as he held a hand out for you at the exit. “That depends on how long it takes me to stop being angry.”

James pouted. “At least let me buy you a butterbeer to make up for it?”

You sighed. “Fine. But if you ever pull something like this again-”

“Got it, got it, you will hex me. No more Polyjuice-related flirting,” James said quickly. Then, winking, “Unless it’s you Polyjuiced as me, in which case—”

You shoved him and he laughed. You supposed you’d forgive him. Eventually. Maybe.

So,” Remus began, a bored expression in his eyes, “did you two ever actually make it into the Hufflepuff common room, or was that part of the plan just another failure?”

Sirius snickered. “We got very close, actually.”

“Until we heard someone getting scolded at by the Great hAll from some second year,” Peter added with a grin, eyeing the door where Hames stood just seconds ago.

Remus chuckled, shaking his head. “So, no Hufflepuff sofas and hot chocolate for you then?”

“Sadly, no,” Sirius said dramatically, flopping back onto the couch. “All we got was a front row seat to James’ humiliation.”

The wolf smirked. “Well, that’s something, at least.” He leaned back, crossing his arms. “I guess I’m just curious if the Hufflepuffs even noticed you trying to breaking in.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh, they noticed alright. You should’ve seen their faces when we bolted.”

“Bet they were thrilled to see a Hufflepuff they didn’t even know sneaking around,” Remus teased, shaking his head.

“Next time,” Sirius grinned, “we’ll do it properly. With fewer broken noses.”

[laylasverse]

LITTLE FRIENDS ᰋ shifting ask game focused on realities centered around fantasy. ﹙ reblog for asks & send emojis to ask ﹚

🧸 : BROTHERLY BEAR . . . who is your family in your desired reality, blood or chosen? what are your relationships with them like?

🐈‍⬛ : BALANCED BLACK CAT . . . have you made yourself overpowered (no judgement btw) or are there aspects of your being that counteract your powerful nature?

🐈 : CLEVER CAT . . . what is your role in your desired reality? are you a royal, commander, advisor, tanner, chef, commoner . . . or even a witch out in the woods that the people shares whispers of?

🦌 : DELICATE DEER . . . what fantasy media inspired your desired reality? does your desired reality follow the same rules as it? if not what are some of the changes you've made?

🐁 : MAGICAL MOUSE . . . is there any magic in your fantasy desired reality? if so, how does it all work? is it chaotic or is there a detailed magic system?

🦦 : OBSERVANT OTTER . . . what are the little things about your desired reality that some might overlook but you love?

🐇 : RATIONAL RABBIT . . . what are the beliefs and or prophecies that people in your desired reality believe in simply because of tradition?

🦨 : SOFT SKUNK . . . what are a few of your favorite memories in your desired reality? what kind of emotion to these memories bring about? who else is in these memories?

🦢 : SINCERE SWAN . . . who are your closest friends, companions or pets in your desired reality? and how did you come to meet them?

౨ৎ : lmk if you have any suggestions for future ask games!

[ghostshadow-k-r]

Second Palace ruler coming up!

As the "king" of the academy,harassing girls was only one of his despicable interest.Just because he's the key that could always bring the volleyball club toward their victory,the school even somehow allowed him to beat these student up,which has become the reason that the track and field club had ended.

But then,the Phantoms popped out from somewhere and declared that they'll stole his distorted desire.He didn't believe at first,however,the truth is they successed,and he turned himself in for all terrible things that he had done in the past.

Including harassing Almond Roll,Carillon Wish becoming the reason that Carillon had jumped off the roof.

[markrosewater]

Maro’s Bloomburrow Teaser

Before previews for Bloomburrow officially begin, I thought it would be fun to do another of my Duelist-style teasers where I give tiny hints of things to come. Note that I’m only giving you partial information.  

 First up, here are some things you can expect:  

• A new mechanic which is a tweak on a mechanic from 2013

• “Destroy target creature” (a spell with only this rules text) gets a new mana cost

• A cycle of uncommon lands that each reference four creature types

• Counters in the set: +1/+1, blight, coin, finality, flood, flying, indestructible, loyalty, stash, stun, and supply

• A noncreature subtype makes its first return

• A ten-card cycle that acts as typal glue

• Two mechanics that came out in the same set return each part of a different two-color archetype

• The word “Squirrels” shows up four times in rules text

• A mythic cycle with a new symbol

• One of the cutest mechanics we’ve ever made

 Next, here are some rules text that will be showing up on cards:  

• “Create X tokens that are copies of target token you control.”

• “If you control a Raccoon, you may discard a card.”

• “Creatures your opponents control have base toughness 1.”

• “Whenever one or more other creatures you control leave the battlefield without dying,”

• “if it’s the first instant spell, the first sorcery spell, or the first Otter spell”

• “put a flood counter on target land.”

• “where X is the number of creatures you opponents controlled that were exiled this turn.”

• “for each other Squirrel and/or Food you control.”

• “As long as there are four or more card types among cards exiled with CARDNAME,”

• “up to one target artifact, creature, or planeswalker an opponent controls loses all abilities until your next turn.”

 Here are some creature type lines from the set: 

• Creature – Hamster Citizen

• Creature – Frog Advisor

• Creature – Skunk Assassin

• Creature – Raccoon Berserker

• Creature – Squirrel Warlock Bard

• Creature – Rabbit Mouse

• Legendary Creature – Badger Warrior

• Legendary Creature – Weasel Mercenary

• Legendary Creature – Elemental Elk

• Legendary Creature – Bird Dragon

 Finally, here are some names in the set: 

• Crumb and Get It

• Festivals of Embers

• Hop to It

• Kitnap

• Playful Shove

• Polliwallop

• Rabid Gnaw

• Shrike Force

• War Squeak

• Wishing Well

 Tune-in to our official YouTube and Twitch channels (youtube.com/@mtg antwitch.tv/Magic and) at 9:00 am PT on Tuesday, July 9 as Bloomburrow previews begin.

[tarot-bimbo]

Pick a pile⋋⁠✿⁠ ⁠⁰⁠ ⁠o⁠ ⁠⁰⁠ ⁠✿⁠⋌

What is gonna happen next month?

•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•

1. 2. 3.

•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•∆^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•

Pile 1.

So I see you having fun and going outside with friends or family. You might just party a lot , never a dull moment for you. You could be a person who easily gets bored and a lot of stuff doesn't excite you so , I see you just having fun with the things you like and the people you love. I do see a situation coming up and I do see it will have you tangled for a bit. It could be with work , love or just you in general. You will come out of it and I do see a lover approaching you , you could be buying a new house and if you are already with someone I feel like you two could move in with each other. You could be getting a makeover💄 or you could be changing your aesthetic.

Additional messages

Good things come in threes , learn from the past , watch and wait, be here now

Elephant spirit, Hummingbird spirit and seahorse spirit could be significant to you.

( I hope this pile resonates with you. I love you☄️)

•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•

Pile 2.

I see you are having financial problems , You might be feeling really depressed and sad but it's just a short-term situation, spirit is telling you it will be over by next month. You could be very bad at managing money tho your guides are telling you to manage your money better you could be spending more than you are receiving. Just stop spending recklessly. I also see someone coming to you this month but I think this person is bad they are mean and controlling just like to rule and take control of everything. But for sure next Month you are tackling those money problems and getting it solved.

Additional messages

Feel the feels , use your mind wisely, see the big picture, surrender now

Pig spirit, giraffe spirit and Moth spirit could be significant to you.

( I hope this pile resonates with you. I love you☄️)

•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•

Pile 3.

Pile 3 I see you are going through this change maybe it's the end of an era for you. You could be changing your whole life around soon just a change even if it's small. I see there is something you want but you are a bit confused by it maybe other things are distracting you. I do see you going to chase your dreams and succeeding and celebrating with friends and family. You should do some hermit work too but if you already have and feel like you don't need that then start going after your dream. Maybe you don't like something that is going on but you are confused about it.

Additional messages

King , act as if ,trust in the magic, know your worth

Chameleon spirit, white raven spirit and the skunk spirit could mean something to you.

( I hope this pile resonates with you. I love you☄️)

•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•°•^•

I hope you enjoyed your pile

[seat-safety-switch]

When I was a kid, the only silver lining of staying home sick was getting to watch daytime television. Yes, sure, I didn't have to go to school, but I was spending that not-school time being sick as hell instead of doing cool BMX stunts with my friends, which is what I would have preferred. Game shows helped salve that particular wound.

While chewing on saltine crackers and trying to drink the ginger ale that my mom had meticulously stirred the bubbles out of before heading off to her Narcotics Anonymous® meeting, I would try my best to follow the intricate rules of the shows. Luckily for me, the producers knew that they could never make things too complicated for the humble viewer, so being zooted out on cough syrup didn't even slow my comprehension down that much. And if nothing was going right and I didn't understand the show in my haze of contagion, I'd just do what the average person does when confronted with something that makes them feel dumb: push the "change channel" button.

Historians picking through the detritus of polite society have remarked on how impressive it is that the humble game show has survived to the present day in our increasingly fractalized entertainment landscape. Maybe to them, it is surprising that a competition over limited resources – but unlimited fame – is appealing to broad swaths of the great unwashed. To me, it makes complete sense. Getting to watch some relatively dumb-assed dude completely skunk an easy opening question on Wheel is great human drama in a bite-size portion. Even though I'm not smart enough to get all these other literate questions, I would have definitely been able to spell "chalupa," what a moron.

Do I watch game shows now? No, absolutely not. I don't have a television anymore. And before you think I'm one of those folks who brags about it, come on over to my place. I don't have electricity, either. When I get sick nowadays, the only way I can entertain myself is by going out into the back yard and seeing which squirrel is willing to take a peanut out of my hand. Sometimes I like to put on my announcer voice, and then pretend I'm Pat Sajak, or on my weaker days, Drew Carey. That additional entertainment helps make up for the fact that I arbitrarily decide which squirrel goes hungry for reasons that are unclear even to me.

[mandoriana]

Christmas arrives in Camelot.

Lancelot: I’ve been thinking about buying a new dress for Gwen.

Gwaine: Percival and I talked and decided there wouldn’t be any gift-giving. Instead, we’ll spend the afternoon together and the night even more together, if you know what I mean. 😏

Elyan: And you, Merlin, do you have any plans for Christmas?

Merlin: Yes, Arthur and I always exchange gifts at Christmas, although things have changed since we started courting.

Elyan: What do you mean?

Merlin: Oh, it’s just a rule of mine. Every time Arthur and I make sex, I take two silver coins and put them in a glass jar that I keep in my room. At the end of the year, I take that money and use it to buy a good Christmas present for him.

Gwaine/Lancelot/Elyan: 🤣🤣🤣

Lancelot: So, what present did you buy?

Merlin: Well, so far I have enough money to buy a skunk fur, and just the tail!

Elyan: Maybe you should buy a manual on how not to scare your partner with unusual gifts! 🤣

Merlin: Hey, it’s the thought that counts! And besides, it’s his fault for preferring to train rather than spend the night with me!

[kikiiidym]

hiii!!! I couldn’t find a rules post for your blog so if this is anything you don’t wanna do or just don’t feel like writing please ignore it! But if not could you do pjo boys headcannons with a transmasc!reader? Also, I just have to say I love your works so much! I really enjoy how you write the characters :)

How PJO/HOO boys would react if they found out someone was being transphobic

Percy Jackson :

He got really damn mad. Like next level, “Poseidon might want to hold me back” kind of mad.

You told him after dinner, voice small, eyes flicking down to your plate. You thought maybe he’d just try to cheer you up.

Instead?

Percy’s chair scraped back like thunder cracking.

“They said what?” His fists slammed the table. “Who the hell—who—would have the audacity—?”

He looked like a storm was building behind his eyes. He stood up like he was ready to go find someone right that second.

“Percy—” you tried, but he pointed at the ground. “No. No, you don’t just say that like it’s okay. You’re telling me someone mocked you, the person I love, for being exactly who you are?”

He crouched in front of you, voice softer but trembling. “You are real. You are valid. And you are more badass than any sea monster I’ve fought.”

Then he kissed your knuckles and muttered, “Swear to the gods, if they say anything again, they’re getting a one-way trip to Tartarus Lite.” (Someone found their whole cabin flooded next day.)

Grover Underwood :

Grover’s reaction was… different. He just started crying.

“They hurt you?” His bottom lip quivered. “They really—how could anyone be so cruel?”

You tried to reassure him, but he took your hands and looked right into your eyes.

“You are valid. You are sacred to the wild. You’re part of the balance, the beauty, the song of things.”

Then he added through clenched teeth: “I know several dryads who’d love to help me ‘accidentally’ trap them in vines.”

He blinked. “Also, maybe I slipped a truthroot into their tea. Oops.”

Connor Stoll :

Connor? Oh, he got mad as hell. But the smile? Still there. That dangerous little “Oh so we're being assholes now, I’m about to wreck someone” smirk.

“They bullied you? For that?”

He put an arm around you, kissed your cheek, and said, “Don’t even worry, babe. They messed with the wrong cabin.”

You blinked. “Connor, don’t do anything crazy—”

“Oh, I’m not.” He winked. “But their armor? Might smell like skunk for the rest of the week. And their socks? Vanished.”

He leaned in, nose brushing yours. “But seriously, I don’t care who they think you are. I know who you really are. And I think that’s amazing.”

Travis Stoll :

Travis looked like he was about to flip a table.

“They mocked you? Oh, it’s over for them.”

“Travis—”

“Nope. No talking me out of this. You’re my boyfriend. You’re real. You’re brave as hell. And I will be rearranging their bunk beds so they collapse at 3 AM.”

He got serious for a second, pulling you close.

“Hey. You don’t ever need to change for them. You’re already everything I want.”

Then he winked. “Now go nap. I’ve got mayhem to plan.”

Luke Castellan :

Luke got dangerously quiet—the kind of quiet that only comes from someone who’s fought monsters his whole life and just discovered a new kind worth slaying.

You told him at the campfire, trying to pass it off like a joke. “It’s fine,” you said with a shrug, “just some dumb comments. People suck.”

He didn’t laugh. Didn’t smirk. Didn’t blink.

“They bullied you?” he said slowly, the words sounding like knives being drawn.

You tried to downplay it, but he stood up like a switch had flipped.

“Who was it? Tell me. Right now.”

There was something terrifying about how calm he looked. Like a man who’d burned the world once and wouldn’t hesitate to burn a smaller piece of it again.

“I thought I’d seen the worst people could do,” he muttered. “But they mocked you? Just for being you?”

He sat back down, pulling you into his lap without asking. One hand on your lower back, the other gently brushing your cheek.

“Listen to me,” he said, voice low. “You are everything they wish they had the guts to be. You know who you are. You live it out loud. That scares them.”

His tone turned hard again. “If I hear even one more word from them—just one—I will remind them that I may not be Kronos’s vessel anymore, but I’m still a damn force.”

Then he softened, just for you. “But more importantly? You’re safe with me. And loved. So loved.”

That night, the bullies found their gear rearranged to spell “cowards” across their cabin floor.

No one ever said a word about it. But they never messed with you again.

Will Solace :

Will? Freaked out quietly at first. He was calm on the outside—but he was one more insult away from going full wrath-of-Apollo.

You told him after he noticed you acting off during breakfast. You thought he’d be disappointed.

He was not.

Will’s whole demeanor went icy.

“They bullied you for that? For being yourself?”

His jaw clenched so hard it looked painful. “That is unacceptable. I’m going to report it. I don’t care if they’re Jupiter or Greek, child of a war god or whatever—they’re getting dropped from every rotation.”

He softened when he saw your expression falter. “Hey—no. Don’t you dare think this is your fault. I see you. All of you. And I love you for exactly who you are.”

He kissed your forehead and added with a smirk, “Also, I may or may not ask Apollo to give them the worst rash known to demigod kind.”

Nico Di Angelo :

Nico didn’t just get mad—he got deathly still.

You told him one evening while sitting under the stars. You didn’t even want revenge. You just wanted someone to know.

His expression went blank. That terrifying, undead kind of blank.

“They said that... to you?”

You nodded.

The shadows at his feet rippled. The temperature around you dropped. You reached out and took his hand before he did something, because oh, he was going to.

“I want names,” he said, voice low. “Because I’ve brought down worse for less.”

“Nico—”

“No, listen.” His tone cracked open just slightly. “I know what it’s like. Feeling like you don’t fit anywhere. Like who you are is wrong just because it makes others uncomfortable.”

He took a shaky breath, his hand now gripping yours tightly. “But it’s not. You’re not. You’re you—and I love you. Which means they better keep your name out of their mouths, or they’ll find themselves alone in the dark.”

You never saw the bullies again. No one asked questions.

Jason Grace :

Jason didn’t yell. He didn’t swear. But he looked like he could crush marble with his bare hands.

“They said what?”

His fingers gripped the back of a chair so tightly the wood creaked. You told him the story, trying to downplay it. He was not having it.

Jason took a deep breath, trying to ground himself in his training—but his knuckles were white.

“They think they can shame you? The bravest person I know? I don’t think so.”

He took your face in his hands, thumbs gently tracing your cheeks.

“I know what it’s like to feel like you’re two people. I had to be perfect. But you—you’re true. You’ve chosen yourself over fear. And I won’t let anyone take that from you.”

Then he kissed your temple. “Also, I’ve written a formal complaint to Camp Jupiter’s senate. They’ll be scrubbing centurion bathrooms by tomorrow.”

Frank Zhang :

Frank got quiet. Really quiet.

He just stared at you, jaw tight, eyes wide and kind of… haunted. Like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

You said, “It’s fine, really, I—”

“It’s not fine.”

His voice was shaking.

“They bullied you? Just for being yourself?” He stood up suddenly and paced. “I swear, I’ll—”

You touched his arm. “I don’t want revenge.”

He nodded, slowly. “Okay. Okay. But I do want you to know this: you’re everything. Strong. Brave. And more of a man than any of them will ever be.”

He hugged you so tightly it nearly lifted you off the ground. Then, with a growl: “But just so you know... if they try again, I’m shifting into something with claws.”

Leo Valdez :

Leo went silent—which, for Leo? Terrifying.

“Wait. Someone said that about you?”

He blinked once, twice—and then stood up, grabbing his toolbelt.

“Leo—?”

“Just grabbing a few things,” he said, too calmly. “Nothing big. Maybe a little mechanical justice. Y’know. Hypothetically.”

Then his voice cracked, and he turned back, eyes darker than usual. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because I didn’t want to cause—”

“No. Babe. You matter. Your identity isn’t ‘drama.’ It’s you. It’s real.” He stepped close and put his forehead against yours. “You’ve been through hell just to exist. You think I’m gonna let some punk erase that?”

He grinned again—but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll keep it classy. Just a little public humiliation. With sparkles.”

Octavian :

Octavian smiled.

But not in a good way.

“Interesting,” he said, folding his hands. “Someone thinks they can speak against my partner? In Camp Jupiter?”

You tried to explain you didn’t want trouble. He stood up slowly, like a statue coming to life.

“They will be humbled. Publicly.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Octavian—”

“You,” he said, gently brushing a hand through your hair, “are the most important thing I’ve ever had. And no one—no one—will question your right to exist without consequence.”

The next morning, a camp-wide bulletin appeared: “New Camp Policy: Zero Tolerance For Identity-Based Harassment. Violators will be transferred. Or cursed.”

And Octavian? Didn’t stop smiling for a week.

Hello! Sorry for not writing any rules; I don't really have any right now. Thanks for requesting this, too. I've never written about trans people, and this has opened my mind (sorry if my English isn't good or if it sounded offensive).

[preservationofnormalcy]

[As I climb the multiple levels of stairs to the ranger tower, I take a moment to stop and reflect. I’m exhausted - after the hike to get here, the relief that I felt upon seeing the tower was tempered by the realization I had several flights of stairs ahead of me. I was in Washington State, flown here by my handlers to talk to seemingly the only Esoteric Ranger that would be available for the next month. Not for the first time, I wondered what it meant that they heavily suggested my interview subjects. The best person for the job, or the best PR face in the department?

I reach the top and stop again, and take a drink of water. A figure sitting inside the room at the top turns and sees me, and gets up to open the door. He is young, in his mid to late twenties, long brown hair done up in a bun, a large scraggly beard over the top of his ranger uniform. He has a look of amusement on his face, a sort of polite smile doing its best to cover up a smirk. His accent is thick, Appalachian, and his demeanor still manages to convey a sort of genial calm.]

S] Meghan, right?

M] Yeah. Hold on, let me…catch my breath.

S] Aint no worry. Take the time you need. I’ll just leave the door propped open. And if it helps, there’s iced tea in here waiting for you.

M] That does help. I’ll just….be a second.

[After a moment, I joined the man in the observation room. A cot, a shelf of supplies, a desk with a radio setup, a laptop on a table. A simple room for an apparently complex job. The tree-eye logo of the Rangers is plastered on many surfaces, well worn.]

M] Sheamus Doyle, right?

S] Yes ma’am.

M] I’m Meghan.

S] Pleasure to meet you. Lemme just….

[He takes a jug of iced tea from a minifridge and pours some into two mismatched cups, sitting at the small table and glancing at his laptop for a moment as I sit across from him.]

S] Pardon me, just watchin’ the ‘squatches.

M] Watching?

[He turns the screen around - a topographic map of the area is displayed, black with white lines, with about a dozen white dots congregating in two places.]

S] We’ve been watching the cryptid migrations. They been odd since….well, since. Ain’t been following their normal routes.

M] Is that what the Rangers do? I’m sure you know I’m here to ask questions, so….I guess that’ll be my first one.

S] A large part of it, yes ma’am. Cryptid watch.

M] I guess that’s the “catch and release” part of the poster I saw.

S] Mhmm. It’s hard work, y’know. Better here’n in the Everglades taggin’ skunk apes though.

M] Let me look at my notes…kind of scrambled after the hike here.

S] Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Everyone’s gotta do a stint in the firewatch, and we pull double duty takin’ notes on the ‘squatches while we’re here.

M] Tell me a little about the Esoteric Rangers.

S] We’re older than the Office is. Bet they ain’t told you that.

M] How so?

S] Office was founded in ‘27, right? E-Rangers were a secret division of the National Park Service, founded –

M] 1916, eleven years earlier.

S] That’s right. Even then they knew weird stuff happens in the forests, so they had a little bit earmarked for people to investigate or protect people from the weird stuff, and the weird stuff from people. When the Office came around later, we got folded into them instead. But by that time, y’know. Eleven years. That’s enough time for a place to develop a sort of….culture.

M] How do you mean?

S] We’re under the jurisdiction of the Office for the Preservation of Normalcy, ma’am, but between you an’ me, the Rangers have our own ways of doing things, our own rules. Was a requirement of the merger.

M] I see. So forested areas are your jurisdiction?

S] Anything that takes place on ‘r around a national park or a nature preserve usually has at least one of us onsite. We have our checklists, our methods for findin’ out what’s going on. Weird shit happens far from civilization.

M] Like what?

S] Reality sorta…gets weak, out here. I heard y’talked to Wren.

M] I did.

S] They’re always on about that noosphere stuff. Out here, with no people, noosphere kinda gets a little…wobbly. It’s like…if enough human minds are the bungee cords holdin’ down a tarp. It’s fine most of the time, but sometimes there’s a wind, you know? The noosphere don’t have the guidance to tell it what to do, so you get…

[He trailed off.]

M] What?

S] I seen weird shit, ma’am. Woodpeckers that move backwards, sealing up holes in trees. Hikers from twenty years ago, missing their faces. Places where the sun never shines, like that old song. Areas that looked like Lucifer’s vacation home, all burned and sulphur-smoke. Deer speakin’ in the voices of dead relatives, antlers shining blue. Gunshots where there shouldn’t be people. Realspace is weak out here. Veil gets thin when there ain’t no one to see it.

M] Is all that true?

S] As true as Mama’s promises.

M] Mmh. Tell me about the….cryptids. What is a cryptid? I know it’s like…unknown creatures, but for you they’re clearly….known, right?

[He sat back after a drink of his tea, giving a wince and a so-so gesture of his hand.]

S] That’s the mundane definition, yeah. The Office’s definition of a cryptid is….a creature whose existence ain’t really evolutionarily plausible, that would raise a lot a’ questions were it known. Jackalopes, you know, no other bunny has antlers, sort of thing. They probably didn’t evolve, per se, so…

M] What about the sasquatch? Wouldn’t it just be seen as a missing link?

[He nods, thinks for a second, looks at his computer, and then jerks his head to the door.]

S] Lemme show you something.

[On the platform outside, bolted onto the railing, is a telescope - or I assume it is. Attached to the long barrel of the device are a lot of wires, a plastic casing that looked like it housed a small electronic assembly, and a revolving series of lenses that look like they can be rotated into the eye ports like an optometrist’s testing machine. He looks into the scope, adjusting the lenses and a few knobs on the side of the device, and locks it into place.]

S] Here, take a look.

[I look into the scope - for a moment, I think there’s something wrong with it. I can see a clearing in the forest, and three….shapes. Smudges on the lenses? No, he’d have seen that. The shapes are blurry blobs from this distance, out of sync from their sharper surroundings. I’m about to take my eyes away from the scope and ask what I’m looking at when I feel him reach over and adjust the lenses again, rotating a new set into place. It’s accompanied by an electric click and a soft whine from the device, and now I can see them clearly. The three blobs were large, humanoid figures, covered head to toe in rusty brown fur. One stands guard in the clearing, while another sits on a stone, grooming the fur of a third, possibly a juvenile. They are...impossible. Majestic creatures, even from this distance.]

S] We call it an Obfuscation Field. They’re sort of always….blurry. In the 30’s we developed techniques to see through it, y’know, but it’s one of those things people can’t find out about.

M] Unbelievable.

S] Somethin’ wrong?

M] It’s just…this whole time, you know?

[He leaned on the railing, taking a vape pen out of his shirt pocket.]

S] Yeah, I heard they kind of threw you into all this. Sink ‘r swim. I wager most people get a slower introduction.

M] Did you?

[He took a hit of his vape pen.]

M] Should you be doing that on the job?

[He gave me an amused look, gesturing around to the forest. I could almost imagine a hypothetical camera comically zooming out to show the remoteness of the tower.]

S] Nah, I grew up in all this. My family’s been practicing “The Work”, so to speak, since they came here four or five generations ago. I never got the hang of witchcraft, myself. You get a dud every other generation, so they say. My sister’s a natural though, she’s interning with the Office in Archival.

M] Some people are sort of…born into knowing this stuff.

S] We call it being “in the community”. At a certain point it all blends together. Your family does folk magic at a certain level, you grow up with your best friend bein’ a lycan, that kinda thing.

M] I feel like I’ve missed out.

S] Ma’am, sometimes it’s more trouble’n it’s worth.

M] Yeah?

S] I love my friends, my family, but….you think I wouldn’t flick a switch, give all this up? Be Sheamus the hipster and not Sheamus the cryptid hunter? Be a hell of a lot more simple. Weird shit attracts more weird shit.

[He took another hit, exhaling a thick cloud. For a moment, shapes in the cloud coalesce - the prominent brow of an ape, a rabbit with antlers. I wonder if he was being modest about his lack of magic.]

M] I’m not really sure.

S] You’re letting it get to you, all of this. So quick, so extreme. I think you need an industrial grade chill pill, ma’am.

M] Maybe I do.

S] I got a guy coming in to bring me supplies tonight. Stay here, watch the sunset, you drive back with him.

M] Are you sure?

S] Hundred percent. Take the evenin’, ma’am. You need it.

(Buy the poster here!)

[gremland]

in honour of the marinat smoke sesh au overwhelmingly winning the poll (so far) please enjoy a preview of the first 500 words (not yet edited) 🍃(tw recreational drug use)

Mari enters the basement apartment without knocking, greeted with the familiar, if stale, scents of flat beer, weed, and inhabitants who aren't afraid of their own natural musk. The ghosts of many cigarettes smoked in both the distant and recent past live in the godawful carpeting throughout the basement along with decades of stains hidden within the deep red shag—frankly, Mari struggles to believe the wood panel covering the walls was ever in style. Still, this has become one of her favourite places in her hometown. The house itself belongs to Kevyn Tan's maternal grandmother who kindly offered to let him live in the basement suite after graduation for next to nothing in rent—an offer he in turn extended to Nat. The timing was serendipitous as shortly after they moved in, his grandmother began to complain about a family of skunks infesting her backyard and luckily, her beloved grandson was there to help. Though he's been hot on the case for nearly three years, he somehow hasn't been able to to catch one of the sneaky buggers yet. Maybe one day. Nat's splayed out on the couch in boxers and a loose tour tee for a band Mari doesn't recognize, lost in the music softly playing from her record player. Like most of the furniture in the basement, it's absolutely ancient but she prides herself on her extensive vinyl collection she gets to indulge in thanks to Kevyn's family's crap. She says it almost makes the lopsided couch worth it. The bean bag chair is one of the few contributions to the space from Nat—sure it's cliche and the ugliest shade of orange, but it's also the most comfortable place Mari's ever sat her ass and it's perfect for melting into after a hit. As the ever gracious host, Nat gives her the courtesy of taking the best seat when she visits. The air puffs out as she lets herself fall into it. A black lighter adorned with alien heads lands in her lap and Nat nods to the worn coffee table where a bong depicting a red-eyed Pepe Le Pew in the glassware sits. "Bowl's filled." "Natalie Scatorccio, did you break out the fine china for little ol' me?" she beams, while Nat widely swings a leg towards the bean bag chair. The kick misses. There's rules when it comes to smoking with Nat. First, don't make your bullshit her problem. Second, this is her job—she's not running a charity, pay the fuck up—and third, do not, under any circumstances, touch her Pepe Le Pew bong. Mari's had the privilege of smoking from the sacred glassware on a few occasions over the last couple years—each time Nat watching her like a hawk—so this really is rolling out the metaphorical red (shag) carpet. Then again, this is the only time they'll see each other before Mari drives back to campus for her senior year of college.

[domono08]

Here’s Melissa, an uptight pessimistic by the rules skunk who works as an assistant at big office building. He makes about a 300 dollars a week, higher than everyone else in their friend group. Fox usually has Sunday brunch with her, Rebecca, Jen and Mary.