#snake scales are very difficult okay

[bucketsofmonsters]

Deep Water - Part 3

cw: the ocean, almost drowning, kidnapping, more tags to be added as the story continues

merman x fem reader

Word count: 5k

read on ao3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

On your first day of work, you were already regretting not pushing harder to get your siren to promise you he would stay away, glimpses of a snaking tail under the water every few hours stopping your heart for a beat every time. 

You ignored your first sighting, reporting into the office, getting a list of duties and of expected intake for the day. 

You asked when you’d be paid, part of you worried he’d say at the end of the month and you’d be stuck without a place to stay for weeks. You let out a sigh of relief when he said at the end of the week. Only two more days then. You could manage two more days. You were sent off on your way without much else said. 

No one was assigned to help you, to figure out what you were supposed to do or how to start, so you did the only thing you could think of. You went and found Finn.

His face lit up the second he saw you, dropping the box he was holding to run over to your side. 

“Hello little lady, how’s your first day going?”

You glanced back at the discarded cargo. “Do you not need to get that?”

“Is this going to take long? Okay, you probably want help, I’ll be right back.”

He rushed over to the dropped box that at the very least didn’t look like it had been damaged and hauled it over to a safer location, amidst some other unpacked boxes. 

He was back at your side before the incredulous huff of laughter managed to escape you, giving you a sheepish look. “Sorry if I’m overeager, we don’t get many pretty girls out here, I’ve gotta try and help you before someone else snatches you up.”

You gave him a humoring laugh, more polite than anything. 

You had a feeling your intentions with one another did not align, but he seemed pleasant and helpful and whatever his intentions happened to be, you could use that right about now. 

And he held true to his word. For the rest of the day, he helped you figure out your various duties, largely abandoning his own, only occasionally popping out to make excuses or run and do something that others laughed and insisted really couldn’t wait. 

The day passed quickly. The work wasn’t particularly hard, just repetitive. Finn did his best to help but once you realized he couldn’t read, it became a little more difficult. 

He still hovered over your shoulder, something that you appreciated but had the unintended consequence of you having to struggle to pull his attention every time you caught another flash of scales out of the corner of your eye. 

They seemed particularly likely to appear whenever Finn set off from his latest task he was ignoring to help you again.

You bristled at the thought, trying to tell yourself you were making up patterns, that it wasn’t anything at all. 

At least you hoped you were. If it was a pattern, you were going to kill him. 

Even once you got the hang of things, Finn refused to actually leave you, insisting that it was improper to abandon you on your first day. You just smiled and continued on, set on getting everything done. First impressions were important after all, and you needed to look just as valuable as your sister had been. 

Before you knew it, the day was over and people had begun filing out. It wasn’t empty, the dock was never really empty, but it had quieted down and you finished the last of your work, marking everything down as neatly and perfectly as you could. 

“I can take that back for you!” Finn exclaimed as you carefully looked over your work for any glaring mistakes. He seemed excited to find something he could actually help you with. 

Part of you wanted to refuse, to take it back yourself, but he seemed too excited, refusing felt like kicking a puppy. Besides, you imagined he’d have a few kind words to say about you and that couldn't hurt. 

He came darting back over in minutes, that persistent, goofy smile plastered across his face as he skidded to a halt. “Mission accomplished, ma’am,” he said with a little salute. 

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you said, trying to push as much gratitude as you could into your voice.

“Now that that’s done, I was wondering if you wanted to go out or something. I could get you some drinks or food or whatever, celebrate your first day being over.”

There it was, exactly what you’d worried this had all been leading to. “Finn…”

Water came splashing up through the gaps in the wood on the dock, drenching the pair of you. 

You jumped, reflexively and far too late to save yourself from any of the water. 

As you looked through the slats, you could have sworn you saw the glint of scales. 

“Yes,” you blurted out, bringing Finn’s attention back to you. “That sounds great.”

You gave him what felt like a poor approximation of an excited smile. 

“Really? That’s amazing. The ocean seems to have something to say about it. She’s nervous, poor girl. Promise I won’t leave you behind.” He spoke down to the waves, attempting to lighten the mood as he saw your face go white in your newly wetted skirts. 

You smiled, your heart hammering in your ears, and after another quiet little bit of reassurance, he scurried off, telling you to stay put while he found a coat he’d discarded earlier in the hot sun and promptly forgotten about, and then you could be off.

Simon, you guessed that was what you were calling him now, decided that was an opportune time to breach the surface of the water and look up at you with those big, golden eyes. 

An anger that had been simmering quietly inside of you at every flash of scales you’d seen throughout the day came to a head as he had the audacity to simply appear like this. “Go away,” you hissed, the words coming out louder than you meant them to. 

This wasn’t like the day before. You knew Finn would be back any moment, you didn’t have time to argue on the shore. 

He remained resolutely above the water, looking up at you with a determination that almost frightened you set across his impish features. 

When he opened his mouth, you held your hands out, trying to tell him to stop, that it wasn’t safe. 

And then he started speaking and your hands fell limp to your sides, warning him not seeming quite so important anymore. 

The words sounded different. Maybe he was singing? It was hard to tell. You couldn’t even make out the words, couldn’t understand any of it. All you knew was that he was there. Why were you all the way up here? You should be down there with him. Maybe then you could understand. 

Whatever noises he was making, ones you were too far away to really hear, wormed their way right through your ears into your head, snaking their way around inside you, taking up the space where your thoughts were moments ago. 

There was nothing but him. 

Everything else faded away until all you could see was amber eyes. 

And then, walking carefully and intentionally, you tumbled into the water, seemingly of your own accord. 

The second you hit the icy water, the warm calm you’d been pulled into dissipated. You weren’t sure if it was the shock of the water or your head going under, no longer able to hear the hypnotic noises from the siren you’d thought was harmless. At least to you. 

And what a foolish notion that was. He was a siren. It didn't matter if he'd saved you or not, of course he was dangerous. You weren’t special to him. Why would you be?

As you tried to come up for air his arms met your shoulders and pushed you deeper and you realized, horrifically, just how wrong you’d been. 

You didn’t understand why he did what he’d done, why he’d helped you before. Maybe he’d just been playing with his food, toying with you until he got bored. 

Your mind newly cleared, you fought to swim up. As you did, his tail wound around your legs and you saw a pout break out across his face. 

Panic rose in your chest and he watched, head tilted, examining you carelessly, with your legs still bound together under the water. 

He looked at you, eyes big and bright and expectant, flicking across your face as he tried to fight back a smile. 

You struggled and his hand grasped yours, keeping it in place, effortlessly keeping you under the waves. The bright look in his eyes shifted to confusion, seeming baffled as to why you’d rather breach the surface than steal a kiss from him and let the cold water invade your lungs. 

As he stared expectantly and confused at you, you wiggled just enough to free one leg, something he seemed unconcerned with as he continued to hold you under. He knew he was stronger than you, that you had no real shot of escape. You both did. 

That didn’t matter to you. You brought your knee up as swiftly and firmly as you could in the cold water that forced a horrible, sluggish feeling into your limbs, and kneed him right in his gills. 

That seemed to activate some instinct in him and he wrapped entirely around you, effortlessly countering you at every point of struggle. They were the movements of a practiced hunter. 

You kicked and fought and made every attempt to break away and breach the surface but he was too strong, too practiced at this. At holding people down. 

You wondered how you matched up to them, how hard you fought compared to his other prey, if he’d remember this at all once you were gone?

At some point in the struggle you must have kissed, in the loosest sense of the word. You missed it in the flurry of movement, just another brush of skin against skin in the struggle. It must have happened though because as your lungs burned just a bit too much and your brain forced you to inhale, you didn’t choke on water but instead felt the burning soothe and your instincts calm, despite the salt water flooding inside you. 

Regardless of your newfound ability to breathe, the fight and lack of oxygen had weakened you and your struggle slowed. 

As it did, he rose to the surface

When you breached the waves, the dock was nowhere in sight. You had no idea when in your fight he’d dragged you out to sea or how far you’d gone. 

“You can breathe,” he said, looking at you with that same quiet confusion as when you’d fought against him. “I made sure you could breathe. Why do you still worry?”

You inhaled in an attempt to answer him with a screamed admonishment and then, before a word could escape you, you were coughing up water

He sat patiently as you did, his arms wrapped carefully around you. 

The last time you’d coughed up water like this, you’d been too relieved to be alive to really notice it. You did not have that luxury this time. The saltwater burned coming up, your lungs feeling heavy in your chest as the water poured out of you. 

It felt like you were dying. You didn’t understand how you weren’t. 

He didn’t seem concerned, just holding you as you fought to empty your lungs so you could finally inhale, every attempted inhalation just stirred the churning water in your lungs, agitating them further. 

As you finally emptied your lungs, you sucked in air. Your chest filled and it hurt more than it brought you relief. 

“You have to take me back,” you forced out, the burning in your lungs exhausting you past the point of screaming at him. 

His lips pursed into a pout and his eyes darted away from yours. “You don’t even like it there,” he said, sounding openly disappointed, not even attempting to hide it. But then, why would he? You were at his mercy, he could do whatever he wanted to. 

“I like it better than I like it here,” you said, gesturing around you at the open ocean. 

He looked around at the ocean surrounding you and then returned his gaze intently to your face. “I can take you somewhere else.”

“You know that’s not what I mean, you’d better not…”

And then he was off, swimming quickly through the waves. 

He kept your head above water carefully, although you still had to keep your mouth firmly shut to avoid inhaling anything, but even that didn’t slow him down. 

And then, with no warning, you were going down, back through thick water. You didn’t have a chance to gather your bearing before it was too dark to see anything, Simon’s grip on your arm was the only thing cutting through the cold black abyss around you. 

Your arm brushed against hard rock, scraping painfully before it was gone and you found yourself disoriented in the space around you once more. You could be surrounded by rock for all you knew, inches away from it. There was no way to tell, no way to really know anything about where you were being dragged. 

Your fight renewed as your air began to run out and the darkness still imposed itself around you. You knew better, knew you couldn’t get away. Even if you did, you didn’t even know which direction was up anymore. Your instincts, however, were not so easily suppressed by silly things like facts. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to kill you. Even more than that, as your time under the water dragged on, why he was going to kill you? Maybe you’d upset him, made an unforgivable mistake when you kicked him or complained just a little too much. The way it looked now, you guessed you’d never know. You didn’t have the oxygen left to figure it out, your brain starting to get foggy. 

And still, it continued. He dragged you down and down and then your head breached the surface and as you gasped in air, the word flipped right side up once more. 

You dragged air into your pleading lungs, this time no wretched water biting your throat as you did. 

Your lungs still hurt though. A quieter ache. 

Your eyes adjusted slowly to the dark and you could barely make him out in what appeared to be a cave, the moon shining in through a few holes riddled in the rock above you. 

“You could’ve killed me,” you said, desperation creeping into your voice. 

His head tilted. “No. I know how long it takes a human to drown. You were fine.”

His words did nothing to settle your unease

“Is this better?” he asked, gesturing around to the cave you’d approached from beneath. 

The water was just a small pool in a larger cave, leading off a few feet before revealing a glimpse of the outside world through the holes that let the light in. 

You hauled yourself out of the water to look and saw that there was no other way out, only the horrible, dark path through the water he’d taken you through. 

You couldn’t get out of here on your own. 

Even if you could, you had nowhere to go. There was probably just more open water outside these walls. Even if there was land, you had no idea where you were. 

You wondered if Finn was worried about you yet. Maybe he was. Or maybe he thought you’d abandoned him, left him alone on the dock in lieu of having to go out to dinner with him. 

You weren’t sure which you were hoping for, which was better for him to believe. Which would be easier to explain when you returned? If you returned. 

“You need to take me back,” you said, trying to force some authority into your tone. 

“Can I ask you some questions about humans?” he asked, completely ignoring you. 

“No,” you snapped. “You can’t. You can take me back.”

He drifted towards you and you pulled back further onto the patch of dry land. 

That seemed to hurt him, like he couldn’t understand why you would possibly be wary of him. 

He rested his head on the rocky shore, looking defeated, slowly drying blonde hair curling up around his eyes as it was freed of some of the weight of the water, and you fought to not think that if he hadn’t just done what he did to you, maybe he’d look sweet. 

“Who was that?” he blurted out, his head lifting with his words as his jaw moved against the stone below him. 

“What?”

“On the dock. He was talking to you, you were leaving with him. Who was that?”

“Who, Finn? Why do you-” A thought began to dawn on you. “His name is Finn. You hang around the dock, do you not know him?”

He shrugged in the water. “I’ve seen him.”

“And you care now? That’s kind of sudden.”

“I guess.”

“Alright. Did you kidn- Did you take me so I wouldn’t go with him.” You did your best to keep your voice measured in an attempt to get an honest response from him. 

“You’re supposed to go to the beach. You weren’t going to the beach.”

“No, you rejected my deal, remember? I thought I wasn’t going to the beach because you were just hanging around.”

He rolled his eyes just barely, enough to make a quiet irritation stir in your stomach. “Can’t talk to you when I’m around,” he said, matter of factly. “You said you’d go to the beach.”

“I know, but something came up. I’d have come back. I can’t miss one day?” you said, trying to reason with him. 

“One day? It was the first day!” he said with a huff. 

“I hadn’t even left yet, how did you know I wasn’t going to go meet you.”

“Were you?” he asked, and you didn’t have a good answer for him. 

“We’ll never know, will we? Because you decided to kidnap and almost drown me.”

“I didn’t almost drown you. I would never drown you.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “Alright, well at the very least you decided to hurt me.” Sharp words bounced off the stone walls of the cave. 

His eyes widened. “I hurt you?”

“Yeah, of course you did. I couldn’t breathe. And that’s beside how bad coughing up sea water hurts.”

He shook his head. “You’re fine, why would it hurt?”

“Simon,” you said, “It hurts humans when we can’t breathe. And we aren’t meant to have to breathe water, it burns when I have to get it out.”

For someone who presumably had drowned dozens of humans, he seemed to have little idea how drowning actually felt. To be fair, he probably didn’t have many chances to learn about the human side of the experience, you didn’t imagine many survived long enough to tell him about it. 

“Oh,” he said, deflating a little. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Right, just to kidnap me.”

He nodded with no air of shame regarding his actions. “Yeah.”

You settled back against the wall of rock behind you, trying to think of what else you could say to get yourself out of there. 

He looked up at you and suddenly he seemed unbearably nervous. “You want to leave.”

“I thought we discussed this, I have to leave. I can’t just disappear, there are people waiting for me.”

“Finn,” he asked, saying the name like it tasted rotten in his mouth. 

“Yes, Finn. I told you, I can’t just disappear.”

You had to lean closer to him to hear his next words at all, his voice unbearably quiet. “It’ll hurt you.”

You slid back into the water beside him, hope sparking through you. “I’ll be fine, I just want to get out of here.”

His hands snaked around your sides, pulling you close to him. “Do you want to hold your breath or breathe the water?” You could feel his breath on your skin as he spoke. You didn’t understand how breathing worked for him, where his lungs ended and his gills began. 

You shivered as you thought back to retching up the water, how it had burned coming up, how the attempted gasps felt inside already heavy lungs. “I’ll hold my breath.”

He nodded solemnly. “I will be fast.”

You sucked in a breath before he pulled you down, a luxury you had not been granted last time. 

He was true to his words. You could feel the water rushing past you as you held your breath, clinging to him the whole way. 

When you breached the surface, your lungs didn’t hurt quite as much as they had the first time around. His grip on you was tighter than when you’d arrived, a fear present in him that wasn’t before. 

Your hands were wrapped around his neck, the desire to get yourself away from him gone now that you were fairly certain he’d bring you back, even if he wasn’t happy about it. 

He brought you to the shore, a familiar spot.

Something occurred to you as you found yourself in shallow water. “How’d you even know where to take me? When you first found me, you took me right here.”

“I know where the ships are going. Always to the same spot.” He sounded almost annoyed at the ships’ predictability. 

“Well, they have to go to a dock.”

He grumbled in response, his discontent evident. You weren’t sure how much of it was from this grudge against ships and how much was because he’d had to bring you back to shore.  

You pulled yourself out of the water and wanted just sit there for a while, regain some of your energy. 

The second you hit dry land, Simon was gone, disappearing before you could say so much as another word to him. 

You didn’t really have time to talk or rest anyway, running back onto the dock as quickly as you could, hoping Finn hadn’t left yet. 

You found him standing alone on the dock, looking dejected right until his eyes drifted towards you. His eyes widened as they met yours and his expression shifted from surprise to concern, rushing towards you. 

“What happened?” he asked, pulling the jacket he’d run off to retrieve over your shoulders. “I thought you’d gotten bored and abandoned me but a swim at this time of day hardly seems like a good idea.”

“I fell in. Guess I’m more tired than I thought,” you said with a sheepish smile, hoping it was anything close to convincing. 

His hand drifted up to push wet hair away from your face. “I’m sure you’re not feeling up to going out anymore…”

“No,” you said, not thinking of Finn at all but instead set on rebelling against the attempts to stop you from going. It wasn’t fair to Finn, but by the time that occurred to you, you’d already spoken. “I mean, you waited all this time for me, it would be rude not to go.”

He seemed too excited to notice how suspicious you were being. “Alright, but make sure you’re not overextending yourself.”

You nodded with an unenthusiastic smile and let him lead you off to a tavern somewhere. 

It was a largely uneventful evening, all things considered. He bought you some soup, something nice and hot that you could feel in your bones, creating a comfortable warmth in your core. 

Your reticence to talk was barely noticed. Finn seemed more than happy to fill the silence, letting you bundle up under the thick wool of his coat and focus on your food. 

Before you knew it, it was gone and there was nothing left to distract yourself with. 

You waited for Finn to finish whatever story he’d been telling that you hadn’t been listening to and said, “This has been lovely, but I should be getting back.”

He laughed. “What, back to work? I’m not that boring, am I?”

You started as he pulled you fully out of your head back into the tavern. “What? No, of course not.”

“So where are you staying then?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Nowhere. I’ll find an inn after I get paid but until then-”

“You could stay with me!” he blurted out before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. 

You weren’t quite as enthused. “Look, Finn, I don’t…”

“This isn’t me trying to come onto you, honest. You shouldn’t have to stay out in the cold, it’s not right. I mean, no wonder you're tired. If you don’t get some proper sleep you’ll drown, and then who am I supposed to try and impress every day?”

It was most certainly untoward, but the offer was tempting nonetheless. 

You reevaluated Finn, trying to determine how much you really trusted him. Enough for dinner, sure, but enough for this?

You thought about spending another night alone on the cold shore and decided that yes, you did trust him enough for this. 

As soon as you nodded your assent, he grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the stairs in the tavern. 

You couldn’t help but think that taking you to the tavern he was staying at felt presumptuous but the allure of a warm room and blankets were too strong for you to say anything to that effect. 

His room was decently sized, with a large bed pressed against the back wall. Reassuringly, he started to set up a space on the floor for you, moving some blankets from a chair in the corner to the floor. 

To your chagrin, he began to settle into the nest of blankets on the ground and you immediately moved to set it right. 

“Absolutely not, you will not sleep on the floor in your own room.”

He looked up at you with big, sad eyes. “But-”

“No buts, I will leave.”

He sighed. “Fine. But know that I’m not happy about it.”

You settled onto the floor and he slid another blanket off the bed onto you. You accepted it without argument, allowing him this at least. Besides, you were in no state to be turning down blankets. 

It was late and the blankets helped against your still damp form. The calm itself was refreshing and you fought the urge to thank Finn, who seemed like he’d already drifted off to sleep since you’d begun to settle down. 

You had no choice but to try and follow him. 

You slept restlessly but at least you slept.

[starshifter]

The very first thing I must do in the notes here is point all of my curious readers towards the piece that inspired some of this: A Promethean Sin by Markition. I’m sure most of you have read it, but if you haven’t, please go read it and tell the author you loved it. For me. Because I love it so much.

Alright, cool. Now that you’ve done that, on to the notes.

-

Everyone say thank you to Eli. I was over here all “waaah waaah, I can’t think of a title, I can’t post.” And he just cracks knuckles, giga chad voice “Let me read over it.” And then comes back like a hour later with a list of typos and a title with like twelve layers of meaning. I owe him my life

I only gave this a single pass through of edits, so sorry if things are still confusing anywhere. I was possessed by the spirit of a new idea and had to go start working on that immediately. Alas. I will never know peace. ….or make it through my backlog of ideas. Don’t improve your mental health enough to start taking up your old hobbies again guys, you go from having nothing but time for video games to having no time for video games and being okay with this >:/

As a quick settings note, this is basically a ‘they voted to go somewhere other than amphoreus’ au. Cause Melustanin was one of the alternate options in the meeting

Weirdly, this piece has brought me to the realization that the Azure Dragon doesn’t have legs. Every single canon depiction of it I could find was legless. Dan Heng is a big fucking snake. You heard it here first folks. I decided to discard this detail for the fic, because he was having a difficult enough time navigating with dragon hands lol. Taking those away altogether felt like I was going out of my way to torture him. Which I am, but I can give him the occasional bit of mercy lol

I chose white scales for DH instead of teal because I found this one piece of art that did that and it was frankly so pretty. So this is a purely aesthetic choice. I know white snakes have their own meaning, but I wasn’t purposefully invoking it. He’s a dragon not a snake anyways. To be perfectly honest, I’m p sure that from a lore perspective, he would indeed look like a big dragon made of water if he ever turned into a dragon because it would be his Cloudhymn, not an actual transformation. Luckily, this is fanfic, and I can do whatever the fuck I want.

Yes, he has stubby little legs and a long body with a fluffy tail and mane. He makes an absolutely adorable dragon <3

The increased sense of smell is inspired by Lingsha. While she seems to have a much stronger sense of smell than other Vidyadhara, I can’t help but feel that just giving her super smelling would be a weird choice in and of itself. Going by the additional fact that she has more draconic features than most other Vidyadhara (at least openly, but that’s all I really have to go on), I can’t help but wonder if that sense of smell is draconic in origin. If that’s true, than it would make sense to give DH a similar sense of smell after turning him into a dragon. So that’s my reasoning there. Also, he snek

It’s also very interesting to me to see the different ways that DF manifests in DH. Like, we’re told that he knew how to use Cloud-Piercer as soon as he picked it up, which implies he kept the muscle memory of that. And then he was able to unlock his Cloudhymn mastery as well at Scalegorge. HOWEVER, we also have instances of him learning how to harness his Cloudhymn on the Express, showing that he didn’t actually get full mastery of it. So I’m leaning on that strange space he exists in between knowing everything DF knew and knowing none of what DF knew. So yes, he managed to transform, but didn’t remember how to go back. Much like he could part Scalegorge, but then flooded the Express while trying to mop lmao

The contrast between writing Blade POV and DH POV is really interesting imo. DH is over here all: logic, analysis, and try not to feel any emotions while his emotions batter at the locked door. Meanwhile, Blade is basically a slave to his emotions, it’s just that most of the time his one emotion is depression (yes, I’m including the anger episodes. That’s also a depression thing). Makes them a very fun duo to write interacting.

Don’t ask me about Yingxing’s comment about dragon scales. DH is babu dragon still and doesn’t have the titanium scales yet, okay? (If you don’t know what I’m talking about, that’s okay. It only shows up on one dialogue path during Clouds Leave No Trace, so if you selected the other option, you wouldn’t have heard it unless you looked up the other option like I did)

…No one call me out on stylizing Cloud-Piercer incorrectly in my first posted fic either. I didn’t realize the hyphen was there until months later :sob:

DH gets to be OP for a bit. As a treat. …And maybe an apology for what I do to him lol. Cause let’s face it, the ability to fuse water out of the raw elements (chemical, not elemental) on a whim is pretty fucking powerful.

I’ve always liked the idea of the High Elders being essentially Emanators of Permanence. Since no one has told me this isn’t the case, I’ve decided to go ahead and do it to justify my desire for tropey fic lol. So, yes. DH can turn into a dragon purely because of his stronger than average connection to the path of Permanence. Cloudhymn comes from Permanence for this fic, I guess

I also wanted to play around with just what “Dragon Delirium” is in this fic. It’s sort of implied to be the equivalent of mara in Vidyadhara, but what if it was actually a sort of “dragon brain” that can take over a Vidyadhara that takes on a physical dragon shape? What then? So Grand Celestial Being DH was born for the purpose of this fic. If he felt OOC at times, good. He was supposed to. (Yes, I do realize making my first DH POV fic feature him frequently in an altered state of mind was a dumb choice. I will write something else from his proper POV at….some point. Rip)

Do I keep physically injuring DH because I can’t do any meaningful damage to Blade? Maybe. But I can give him emotional damage by injuring DH, and I still get characters covered in blood and being tenderly cared for by the other. Yay! (Also, I really do think that seeing DH actually in danger would knock some sense into Blade lol. He’s trying so hard to tell himself he wants DH dead, but I am NOT convinced, boy)

So I’m doing some guesswork with Melustanin and its Stellaron. It is possible that it’s still there, but if it is, there is almost no chance that any life is left on that planet. And I needed people for plot reasons lol. Melustanin was supposed to have been one of the first recorded Stellaron incidents. We don’t actually know when Stellarons started appearing, but we do know that it was an abrupt phenomena with a known start point. They just haven’t told us what that is yet. I’m inclined to put it around the time Akivili fell (or Nanook ascended), but I don’t really have hard evidence for my theories about Akivili and the Stellarons. No matter when they appeared though, Stellarons cause incredible destruction, so if Melustanin had one on it for who the fuck knows how many Amber Eras, then it would be completely fucked. So I’m saying it got sealed and moved to somewhere else ages ago. Maybe it’s the one Herta had, idk (I desperately want to know if Stellarons only appear on planets that have a Silver Rail or not. I need to know. They can be moved, clearly, but where do they originally form? Am I completely off in the weeds with my Akivili theory and they really are related to Nanook? Because the Nanook theory makes sense too. Need more info.)

DH has his own mind on Blade (scary/dangerous), but I’m pretty sure his body has a completely separate one (hot). RIP to him dealing with that confusion.

Did I look up people holding anacondas as a reference for DH? Maybe. You can’t prove anything. I definitely did NOT draw a really shitty stick figure reference picture when that hypothetical image search didn’t quite give me what I was looking for.

I love the idea that Blade is just the designated driver of the Stellaron Hunters (despite being a, frankly, terrible choice for this. Tho like…he’s also a really good choice so??? Contains multitudes) so here he is piloting a ship. Because I’m never getting over car Blade. I live inside that scene. Fucking. He has a fucking license. Girl, help, I’m dying

While DH is usually a very polite boy, I get the feeling that Blade does not rate that kind of treatment in his books. There’s just too much there for him to put that kind of social distance between them. Bless his heart though, he does try once he determines that Blade isn’t actively looking to kill him. Fucking idiot. Just make out with him or something smh. Why you gotta be so emotionally stupid?

You know that Blade is concentrating entirely on piloting because the alternative is having a mental breakdown lol

For those curious, I was specifically picturing the chaparral biome for the style of scrubland this city is set in.

Also, really really really hoping other fics haven’t lied to me about the appropriate usage of the a-[name] affix. I know literally nothing about chinese, but it’s honestly a really cute way to do nicknames so?? If there’s another more appropriate affix I should have used there, maybe someone let me know? I would love to know more, but I don’t even know what term to look up.

I did debate having DH lose all his clothes when he transformed, but he would have just used his phone if I left it in existence back in his hotel room. Couldn’t have that, so it all had to go poof lol. RIP funny scene where he changes back completely nude because all his clothes are still in his hotel room. I guess he gets to keep some dignity… Tragic.

While we’re doing RIPs, pour one out for the scene I thought of where March and Stelle assumed that DH had been kidnapped by a dragon and confront dragon DH over kidnapping himself. It would have been so funny if I wrote it

Hopefully, the means to transform him back wasn’t too cliche…. Not that it isn’t cliche, but hopefully I wasn’t painfully trite about it lol. I swear it isn’t “true love’s kiss” tho. It was just about feeling positive, strong emotions. Anyone on the Express could have also gotten him to transform back with, like, a hug or something. Spending too long in a dragon body started twisting his thoughts into a dragon’s thoughts as well, esp. with that chemical interference when he got grabbed. He just needed to be yanked back down to earth with something more…human. Admittedly, the reason that worked for DF was very different from the reason that worked for DH, which fucking tracks tbh. For DF, it was more about being reminded that it’s worthwhile to go back to being human instead of staying a dragon, while for DH it just helped him finally get the memory of how to turn back. Blade has no idea why it works, or he probably wouldn’t have tried. He just remembers that it does, but DF never explained why.

Fight scenes are supposed to be horny, right? Everything I’ve read on tumblr suggests that this is the case, so I made sure I was doing my part. You’re welcome.

The identity crisis wasn’t exactly planned for, merely a happy accident. ✨Suffer, my lovely✨ Let’s be real though, there is no way DH hasn’t been asking himself this question since he found out about his botched rebirth. He would have clung to that rebirth as proof that he wasn’t DF, only to find out that he was clinging to a reed in a storm. Poor guy. How many of his choices are his own? How much of “himself” is leftover from a person he isn’t, but also is? Glad I only have to grapple with these questions for the sake of depicting fictional characters lol

“Once fertile ground” it’s funny because vidyadhara are infertile lol. I have….way too many jokes saved about that, actually. They absolutely kill me.

-

For the graveyard today, we have this little bit that got completely reworked, but was honestly too funny for me to ruthlessly delete: “It was odd, to walk down the streets as a dragon. Nearly everyone they passed either stopped or slowed to stare at him. A handful approached Blade to ask if they could pet him or what he was—which had to have been one of the lowest points of his life. Blade’s unimpressed stare and terse, “he’s not a pet,” quickly sent them scurrying along with profuse apologies. Dan Heng did have to dodge a few wandering hands, but Blade made a surprisingly effective shield, despite Dan Heng’s considerable length. His intimidating aura remained intact even through his disguise.”

[aditublog]

Rhasta took the kids outside with him to the garden. He knew he’d not get much work done with the three of them running around but the night had been difficult and Medusa had been awake during most of it. She deserved some rest now.

Besides, it was fun to have the kids with him, just not productive. The smaller of the twins was tied to Rhasta’s back with a wide cloth and sleeping.

The eldest rushed towards the garden, not bothering to wait while her sibling toddled along, clutching onto Rhasta’s hand. The skirt of her dark blue dress fluttered around her tail, a speck of colour in the otherwise plain steppes.

It was hot, though it was still early in the morning and the troll carried several flasks filled with water in his free hand. They’d need it.

The sand was warm underneath his feet, it had stored the heat from the previous weeks. The troll shaman smiled as he turned his face into the sunshine, he was sure it would be a wonderful day.

As soon as he had opened the gate to the garden, his two kids vanished between some of the taller plants. He could hear them laughing as he put the flasks down in a shady spot. He’d get to work immediately, as long as he could. The kids would want to play with him sooner rather than later.

To keep animals out, the garden was completely fenced in. The kids were able to climb over the fence if they put their mind to it, but since there was nothing of interest in the steppes, they wouldn’t. They also knew that it was dangerous out there, it was one of the first things they had learned in their young lives.

Rhasta began to pull weeds, listening for his kids to be sure they were close by. Just because they knew the rules didn’t mean they would stick to them. At least he didn’t have to worry about them eating poisonous plants in the garden, he had taken care of that after the first kid had began to crawl and to eat everything in reach.

If they wanted to, they could munch on every leaf and flower here. Some wouldn’t taste very good but nothing would harm them.

With the sleeping twin on his back, Rhasta was sweating almost immediately. It couldn’t be comfortable for his kid, either, but he knew that as soon as he put the little one down, sleep-time would be over. No matter how warm or sweaty, Rhasta’s back was obviously the best place to take a nap. Or his stomach. It didn’t matter, as long as it was on him.

After a while, the two others reappeared. Both were laughing and the smaller was already covered by a thin layer of dust and sand. His slightly green skin and hair was rather brown now, the two small snakes he had inherited as hair from his mother dangling next to his face the only clean spot on his body because the dirt didn’t stick to the smooth scales.

“Da, we are thirsty.” The hair of his eldest kid, long wavy strands so unlike her mother’s, bounced around her face.

“Honey, the bottles are over there.” It could’ve been that easy, the two got the flasks, drank and then played again. It wasn’t and that was fine. Rhasta needed a break from pulling weeds anyway, with a kid on his back it was straining.

So he sat down in an open patch. He took one of the sticks lying nearby and started to draw into the sand. “Now, look at this raptor. Who wants to draw a baby raptor?”

Small hands grabbed sticks and within seconds the formerly even sand was a chaos of lines. Rhasta’s raptor hadn’t particularly looked like a raptor but now there was nothing of it left. The game was over, there was no discernible drawing on the sand and two sets of eyes looked at the shaman expectantly.

“Okay. Should I tell you a story?”

“Can we cuddle while you tell it?”

“Of course. Just let me get your little sibling from my back.” A few minutes of shuffling around, and then the three kids were cuddled against the shaman. A bit of wind had picked up and Rhasta’s sweat dried quickly.

For a few seconds, it was quiet. Then Rhasta began, his voice carrying over the steppes.

@maidot

[palesweetscherryblossom]

So since you mentioned them getting more territorial during mating season what else does happen? Do their scales like get more colorful? Does like one gain weight and later refuse to eat?

Because I imagine Tomura getting supper pissy and easily irrational and irritated during the season and he like gains a bit of weight while Dabi is rather distant and almost always zoned out. Like he cannot keep thinking about it because all the hormones and shit make him itchy and his burns and scars do not like it at all.

And I can imagine Tomura getting really irrationally disappointed when they don't get hatchlings for like a week straight but later is in denial and like "Yeah it's okay, we are in quite a difficult situation anyway" to sort of comfort Dabi and himself because he knows Dabi gets really emotional and unstable during and after mating season because of what his father did to Rei and he would hate to be like him. And his parental fear and fear of failure spikes during that time drastically.

I also think that maybe Tomura gets a bit nostalgic due to the hormones and spends more time with the remains of his family. Like talk to his sister and mother about his mate and the possibility of them having hatchlings while insulting his father and telling him he would never be like him.

Also I am sure the hormon crash later would lead to Tomura having a "fake pregnancy" and mothering/fathering random objects in the den as well as rocks. So Dabi gets back with some food to find Tomura curled around some rocks, a stick, some moss and bones while purring happily. And like Dabi thinks it's sweet but at the same time it breaks his heart.

Yes.

Warning: Implied abuse/smut.

Mating season can be a massive pain in the ass for them, especially with the lack of hatchlings to come out of it. Shigaraki gets especially saddened when he finds that other naga are having kids and he’s not.

Dabi wasn’t even really on board with the idea of hatchlings because one, he doesn’t wanna be like bitchface Enji and two, their reputation.

Shigadabi only have a select few friends and everyone else in the forest is either pissed at them or want to turn their snake skin into boots.

When they first met and they decided to bang, it was honestly very awkward. Shigaraki was very eager and excited, you would have to use a crowbar to peel that mf off. His dirty talk was also very cringe and terrible.

Then you got Dabi who was repeatedly asking if this was okay and if that was okay. But they worked it out, the aftercare was sweet.

Shigaraki and/or Dabi having a hormone crash would just be sad to witness. Especially Dabi, since his home life was ruined by Endeavor’s selfish ass desires.

Shigaraki would sometimes just watch humans in nearby villages take care of their kids with bitter nostalgia.

(Man I love yapping about these goobers :D)

[clydesavage-thefox147]

Okay, I have a 50/50 standpoint on the recent Asides. It has its little charms, interesting little moments and just a short quick thing that kept me at least satisfied enough.

But, I have my slight issues with it. One issue I'll talk about first here is how Janus looks. Now the outfit is cute and works well but...where are the rest of his scales? I get it, the idea of more scales being other places has been a fanon thing for a while but Thomas has admitted that we have really cool ideas(and it was drawn at some points in the calendar arts, not every idea has to be used but still). But, why not go for it and attempt to make the scale go further? Because, having JUST the face kinda takes the "snake" out of the "snake-man". Some have complained that the makeup has dropped in quality and I do notice it. Sure, it could be a change in makeup by color and/or brand. Could be the lighting that effects it too. Maybe..MAYBE in the finale it will look better? I'll probably make a post further pointing out differences without being too pretention about it.

I understand that the makeup for the extension would be difficult but I know for a fact that it's usually Quil or Rene who does the makeup, originally Talyn. I think they could've added some scales to the shoulder or hand/forearm or at the bare minimum green splotches. Again, it's hard to tell what's canon or not anymore in the Asides episodes(I've just accepted anything Sides related as potential canon at this point). Maybe it'll be retconned at some point and he will have scales other places throughout him eventually?

And I know you'll say "Why would he do something that detailed for something short?" Well...he could've just worn a different outfit that covered the exposed skin instead. But, maybe he didn't have plans to extended the scales more because they tried on the neck once but it wasn't working how they wanted which lead to the "scale patches" headcanon...but the scales could still work on the arm and hand somehow. I'm just thinking that not extending them takes away what makes Janus intriguing and mysterious...his implied snake DNA. Is it laziness? Is it time constraint? Is it difficulty? Will something more snake like about him make up for it in the future? I don't know but I hope so. There is so many twisted and cool ideas that can be done with Janus, both characteristically and biologically and I don't think they should be wasted.

There's a crack head theory going around that "what if it is makeup and Janus is just doing an act?" Yeah..I kiiiiinda get it but, it's been implied several times that he's half snake physically and biologically that it's too late to retcon it like that or at all. Especially because like I said previously, it's a waste of a very interesting character with very cool skills that he could possess, being this genetically altered. Plus, all the fanfics would be worthless about him having snake like traits. If you get rid of the snake parts and behaviors of Janus, you practically kill what made him so eye catching and shocking in the first place and make him a less interesting and compelling character. Janus would no longer be Janus, ya get me? This could all just be me and nitpicking but..if ya going to have genetically altered character like this, snake wise no less, go big or go home.

[lovingoverwatchguys]

I've seen role reversal AUs of Jack and Gabriel plenty of times, but I was thinking of the concept: they go through sorta-similar events and end up in similar positions, but the circumstances are way different. Just to build a more unique backstory.

Okay, so. This is the setup for Jack: Jack actually does die in the Zurich explosion, the same way Reaper did. Talon finds him, and they do a ton of weird experimental manipulation with his mind and body.

First of all, they know that Jack will never work with them under normal circumstances, and that brainwashing in their usual ways will be very difficult. So, they take this opportunity. Through chemical manipulation, his mind is dulled temporarily. It makes him more prone to manipulation, and just generally out of it. They also erase a big chunk of his memory - basically, the entire time he was Strike Commander.

His body is so damaged and needs so much repair that they basically rebuild it entirely. His digestive system and throat are damaged beyond repair, so they mess around with it, until he subsists on the life energy of others rather than having to swallow solids.

Then, they want to give him a sort of aesthetic/persona, to strike fear into others. The idea they have is related to him needing so many skin grafts - instead, they replace his skin with durable scales (this is gonna get inspired by the Venom skin). Their idea is to base him on a snake. Accordingly, they give him a long and forked tongue, and large fangs. When Venom bites someone, he sucks out all of their life force, leaving them a dead husk (like Reaper's victims now).

Since this is what fuels his body now, he's absolutely starving when he regains consciousness. With his dulled mind and lost memory, he's not especially difficult to coerce into taking his first meal. It instantly refuels him.

Because Talon are the ones giving him sustenance, and he's dull + confused, it's easy to indoctrinate him with all of their ideals. Once he's converted, his senses are returned, but not his memories. Not only that, but via hormone manipulation, his appetite is increased, so he's constantly hungry for more.

Thus, Venom becomes a powerful weapon, capable of absorbing the life of enemies; not only that, but he's incredibly loyal to orders, and doesn't really value human life.

[dzamie-oc]

Voretober 15 - Beauty

Length: 2000 words Vore type: F/M oral vore, reluctant prey Fandom: Pokemon Other info: Seviper pred, human prey, sexual content, slight exhibitionism? Summary: Beauty Jessica takes her friend to a sauna and convinces him to get eaten with her. It ends awkwardly.

A pair of friends sat at a table at Kecleon Kafe, one with a warm bowl of soup, and the other slowly making her way through a sandwich.

"So is it difficult to train Pokemon?" Dylan asked, trying and failing to scoop up some more noodles. "I mean, you've gotta spend so much time looking that pretty, and on top of that… well, I can't imagine battles are exactly clean endeavors."

Jessica gestured impatiently for herself as she finished her bite. "Ahem. Well, I'm not exactly looking to challenge the League or anything, so it's more of a leisure activity than a real time sink. Besides, it's my girls who get dirty in a fight - not that Leona or Sevy ever mind a spa trip."

Dylan raised his eybrows. "Really? I understand Leona, since Kecleons are… kinda the mascot of this area, but I'd think spas wouldn't take too kindly to snakes, especially Poison-types."

A mischeivous giggle escaped the young Beauty. "Mm, I thought so too, at first, so… her first few visits were not exactly disclosed to the staff. I only worked up the courage to ask about Sevipers on my fourth or fifth trip." She glanced at her phone. "Speaking of, I should head over there if I want to sneak in a spa day today. Care to join me?"

"By which you mean, care to pay for it?" Dylan deadpanned, but with a friendly smile.

"Am I so transparent?"

"You'd give Leona a run for her money."

"Please? I wanted to pick up a new bottle of scale oil for the girls, but that plus a trip to the sauna is a bit more than I'm carrying." Jessica carefully dabbed her mouth with a napkin, then leaned in on her elbows. "Besides, it's not like you don't get something out of it."

Dylan drank down the last of his soup. "Fine, fine. But hey, as your friend, don't get in the habit of letting guys give you money to see you naked, okay?"

Jessica feigned outrage, "hey, what kind of girl do you think I am?"

"A broke bitch, clearly." Dylan dodged the thrown straw wrapper, gathered his garbage, and stood up. "So, to the spa?"

"To the spa," Jessica concurred.

One short walk and a pair of spa admissions later, Dylan found himself locking his clothes in a locker. With a towel around his waist, he quickly made his way to a small sauna room. Inside, Jessica and her Pokemon already sat - herself on the bench in a towel, her Kecleon laying across her lap, and her Seviper surprisingly un-zigzagged across the floor. On his arrival, the Ninetales resting next to the stone and water buckets stood and made a sound of alarm. Jessica jolted back to focus and looked at him.

"Oh, we arrived together. He's fine." At her words, the Ninetales gave Dylan a cautionary look, but laid back down on the floor. "Thanks though, Ninetales."

Jessica beckoned her friend over, and he sat next to her, being careful to step over Sevy's bladed tail. With his hands folded conspicuously in his lap, he did his best to relax next to her. This lasted all of ten seconds before the Beauty nudged him and wiggled a bottle of oil. "Wanna help me put it on them?"

"I'm trying to relax," Dylan groaned.

"And I'm trying to help!" At his incredulous look, she explained, "the steady, repetitive motions are very calming - especially with Sevy - their scales feel nice to rub, and…" she looked pointedly at his crotch, "it'll take your mind off of things for a little. Plus, I bet Sevy will give you a massage if you give her one."

Dylan looked at the Seviper, who smiled back at him. "Being a snake, I think she'll give me one regardless," he said. Sevy nodded, and Dylan smirked at his friend. "Sorry, Jess, they're your Pokemon to take care of."

"Can't blame me for trying." She shrugged and tapped her Kecleon on the back. "Leona, you're up. I'll probably oil up Sevy while she's doing her thing to you."

Leona carefully climbed off of Jessica's lap and stood expectantly before her Trainer. The woman in question unwrapped her towel from around herself, folded it on the bench, and, bare, crouched in front of the Kecleon with the scale oil. Dylan flushed red, and not just from the heat. His friend had quite the body, after all, and he was certainly not immune. The three Pokemon all seeming to stare at him didn't help his nerves any, either, though at least Jessica was focused on Leona.

After a long minute, a minor salvation came in the form of Sevy slithering off the floor and across his lap. The snake may have known exactly how hard his dick was pressing against his towel - and now against her scaly body - but it showed less than the poor showing his hands had made. Sevy made eye contact with him again and nodded; Dylan silently rubbed her crest and back in thanks.

Jessica was just finishing up with Leona, kneeling on the far side of the Kecleon but, thanks to the Pokemon's camouflaging ability, still giving her friend a clear view of her chest, bush, and everywhere inbetween, when Sevy spoke up, "Vipa vi." Jessica capped the bottle of oil and rubbed off the last bits from her hands onto Leona's horns, then walked over to them.

"I think she wants to give you that massage. You ready?"

"I kinda like her here…" Dylan muttered, "but sure. What do I do, lay on the floor or something?"

Sevy slithered off of his lap and up to her Trainer, bumping her snout into her in pursuit of rubs and other affection. Jessica idly ran her hands over the Seviper's head as she said, "nah, just take the towel off, then put your feet in her mouth."

Dylan had half-undone his towel when the rest of her words sunk in. "I… think I misheard you."

Jessica shrugged. "I mean, she could start at your head instead, but I find it much more relaxing to keep your head out as long as possible."

The blood previously rushing to Dylan's head promptly reversed course as he paled in fear. "You're joking, right?"

"No, I've done it plenty of times - just before a shower, of course; can't go out smelling like snake drool - and she's gotten really good at making it feel nice." Jessica put her hand to her chin in thought, then grinned. "I know! I'll go with you! Sevy, think you can take us both?"

Sevy looked between her Trainer and her Trainer's friend, then nodded with a confident, "Sevaaa!"

Jessica took a seat next to him

"That will do the opposite of keeping me calm."

"So you don't want to?"

Dylan drummed his hands against the bench, faster and faster, until, with a frustrated exhale, he stood up, took his own towel off, and sat carefully on the offered lap. With his erection on plain display, he did his absolute best not to think too hard about how soft Jessica's bare body was, how he could feel her breasts squish against his back, how every breath and every heartbeat was-

Dylan grimaced. This wasn't working. "Jess, I don't think this is going to-"

Sevy interrupted his train of thought by wrapping her jaws around his and Jessica's feet. Once again, a cold fear gripped his mind, one he, for once, appreciated… to an extent. The snake's squishy throat muscles quickly slid up his shins, pressing his legs against squishy flesh on one side and the much firmer legs of his friend on the other. As she rounded their knees, his heart hammered against his ribcage - even though Jessica had said it was safe, there was something about watching and feeling a giant snake devour him without a problem that he couldn't shake.

To make matters worse, he was still distressingly hard. As Sevy's snout crept closer to his crotch, it got even more difficult to ignore, not to mention the smug look she gave him. He could swear she paused between swallows when his dick rested against her scales for longer than usual, and it brought back the memory of the Seviper laying on him. After a few false starts, he managed to stammer out, "uh, Jess… is it possible that Sevy has a crush on me?"

"Hmm? Y- wait." Hearing her voice brought the rest of her back to his focus, for good or bad. She was breathing much slower than he, so he was, as he knew, overthinking things, but that didn't mean he took her head on his shoulder, looking down at her Seviper - and therefore, his dick that the snake was balancing on her snout - any better. Jessica sighed, and Dylan did his best to think about how they were both being eaten, rather than how they were spooning naked. "Sevy, are you teasing this poor man? Stop it, that's my job."

"Wait, what's that supposed to-" Any further words or thoughts were immediately cut off when Jessica wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him harder against her. In one quick go, Sevy opened her jaws wide and swallowed hard, pulling his hips from the hot, humid sauna, to the hotter, wetter, and soft embrace of her throat. Dylan gasped and bit his tongue to keep quiet as, thrashing in the grip of both snake and Beauty, he came, shooting his seed between Sevy's throat walls and his own belly.

When he finally came down from the high, panting hard, he realized the Seviper's jaws had climbed his chest. Shame burned at him, not just for Jessica's sake, but also because the Ninetales was giving him A Look. "S-sorry…" he mumbled, lacking the energy for much else. A wave of pressure rolled down his body, and Sevy's fangs rested to either side of his neck. She opened a bit wider and nudged Dylan's chin down with her upper jaw.

"Not your fault," replied Jessica, though her earlier energy was greatly reduced, "if anything, we could blame Sevy for teasing you."

From beside them, an invisible Leona chimed in with a "Kehhhhhh." Jessica grumbled. "…yes, fine, and me. I shouldn't have pushed you to try this." One final swallow, and Sevy's jaws closed over them, replacing the warm light of the sauna with utter darkness, the hiss of steam with the squish of wet flesh and the occasional gurgle.

"Mmrph," Dylan said, before turning his head to not speak directly into Seviper throat. "And how you pushed me certainly didn't help."

The gravity around them shifted - presumably, Sevy was stretching out again on the floor. Dylan and Jessica eventually settled on their sides. "I… yeah, sorry. I thought you would have enjoyed it."

"I did! Too much, as I'm sure you realized!" He let out a frustrated sigh. "And after all that help Sevy was with hiding my boner at first…"

The snake around them began to twist and undulate, pressing in in rhythmic squeezes. "I suppose I should be glad my Pokemon isn't better than me at flirting," Jessica mumbled.

"That was supposed to be flirting?!"

"Case in point." Behind him, Dylan felt Jessica's chest swell and contract with a sigh. "Would you rather be back outside?"

Dylan was silent for a while, taking in the sounds of Sevy's stomach groaning around them, the squishing of wet flesh against wet flesh, and the shifting heat and pressure from the snake around him and the woman behind him. "…no, this is… nice. Let's just… enjoy this for now, and talk after."

Jessica nodded, and the two of them relaxed in the sauna-within-a-sauna, each trying to get their emotions and thoughts in order, or at least away for awhile.

[mamamittens]

I'm contemplating what to do for Hancock's jewelry and bouncing ideas in my head for the two new Oh Sweet Child requests.

Pending thoughts for jewelry

I'm thinking something like a choker but it's a snake that gently bites the end of its tail. I've long had a motif that folks connected to the RA have a pearl somewhere in their jewelry so maybe the eyes?

Perhaps some scales are gemstones depending on what kinda snake I do though keeping it mostly gold would match with her usual tastes ngl.

Considered a hanging chain from the fangs to a teardrop ruby that is meant to hang between or just under her breasts. I forget if there's a specific name for this but it's usually only done to compliment a plunge neckline or draw the eye to the breasts in general for women--I've never seen this in men's jewelry fashion unless you count dog tags or a ring that is meant to hide under a shirt when desired. Maaayybe 'drops' of rubies down the chain as a sexy intrigue piece that also hunts at how damn dangerous this woman is to get close to.

Okay, so thoughts for Whitebeard's platonic end

I'm not entirely sure on what I'll have for his. Maybe reader has a bad dream (cliche I know lol) and ends up talking to him in a little heart to heart.

Oh! Or maybe reader sneaks out when everyone has passed tf out during a party to try and either escape or get fresh air without being hounded. Idk. Depends on when this takes place cause at the end of Sweet Child they've pretty well resigned to sticking around.

Anyway, party walk, the reader thinks everyone is asleep but as it turns out, Whitebeard tends to be a very light sleeper when on deck and it leads to a soft conversation.

I've tried very hard to not have too much detail in reader's past so it's not specific to anyone--no mention of family or friends--but I have mentioned some vague nothings about "shit choices" implying the marine enlisting wasn't entirely by choice. I didn't have any specific plans for that or secret btw, I just needed something to give the reader a reason to not fold immediately into Whitebeard's crew.

Anyway, I thought it'd be sweet if part of this heart to heart is a conversation about wanting to have a choice in a world that very much doesn't really let you have that. Not knowing what they want to do with their life because they haven't had the ability to put much stock into the future--which is ultimately why they're so passive about their fate despite having a desire to leave.

Which naturally leads to Whitebeard talking about the different reasons he "adopts" his children. The one relevant to the reader is protection and a desire to see them flourish. He didn't seem them out but he knew when they arrived that he wanted them to be apart of his family.

Maybe he suggests they start writing about the many dangerous animals they seem to have a natural ability to charm. At the very least, it gives them an excuse to go after them and well... It's hardly the most dangerous hobby any of his children have picked up Whitebeard adopts feral pirates almost daily he feels kinship at how much reader loves things that could and would rip them to shreds.

And finally Izo.

Izo gives me the most trouble because as far as I'm aware of he's a fan of his guns and he likes cross dressing--if only just in cosmetics and performing traditional Japanese activities that are usually reserved for women like dancing.

I'd need to double check that last part honestly but that's where I'm at right now for understanding his character.

And he hasn't really shown up so I don't have any real basis for his stance on the reader--nor do I have any direction for the request. But I feel like he'd admire the reader not caving into the crew quickly given that it shows they do have dedication and standards.

But I'm pretty lost in bonding for either romantic or platonic senses. At least without getting into conversations about gender which would be difficult to dance around without assigning the reader a specific gender outright.

I know from comments most assume the reader is female and in rather hoping that's because the readers are mostly female as opposed to me missing glaring red "THIS IS NOT A MAN" flags... Which would make me sad cause y'all it's really hard to write some of this stuff without committing to a sex or gender 🥲

But! The point is that from the sounds of it so far, at the very least the reader doesn't typically do any of the cosmetics associated with feminine presenting fashion. So I'd need to be very careful in phrasing to avoid breaking this without talking about "well I'm a dude and dudes don't usually wear lipstick where I'm from" or "I was never a girly girl growing up" cause of the obvious reasons (at least I hope it's obvious).

I'm just not sure what kind of common ground they'd bond over so there's a strong chance it'll be a bit before Izo's comes out, unfortunately.

Perhaps a conversation about duty? And growing last what you'd previously assumed would be your entire life??? That'd be interesting and a unique point only the marine!reader could come from given the drastic difference from marine to full on pirate.

Anyway, I need to sleep now before I completely fuck myself up for work Monday lol

Btw, Melody hasn't been forgotten I just set it down for a moment while I consider how/if I'll drag out the next part before I move Koala into the story.

[honourablejester]

They are starting to work on it, for sure. They’ve just … Some of it’s gonna be hard to extricate. The underlying humanocentrism and its sort of backwards justification of Aroden’s divine colonialism is going to be somewhat difficult to fix with the way they’ve set themselves up. In the Inner Sea region for definite.

There are so few non-human nations in Golarion. And a significant problem is that a lot of them are portrayed as evil. And/or isolationist. So either they’re evil or they don’t do much that affects the plot. Kyonin and the Five Kings Mountains, the bastions of the elves and dwarves, don’t do much. Belkzen, Oprak (and Kaoling in Tian Xia), the orc and hobgoblin nations, are all broadly considered evil, even if there’s some work being done there. Nagajor, over in Tian Xia, while not evil, is also isolationist and more of a ‘mysterious jungle land of snake people’ to go adventuring in than a power house that’s going to be affecting anything. Pretty much all the active nations, as well as the overall geopolitics, are human driven, at least in the Inner Sea.

The Mwangi Expanse, to be fair to it, is a lot more mixed. They have been putting work in, particularly in newer areas of the world. It’s just going to be very hard to fix what was already there.

Even things like Aroden’s theft from the xulgaths is complicated by the fact that they’re now evil. And yes, it’s Aroden’s fault, the theft is what caused it to happen, but it means that human followers of Aroden (or just humans in general) can still kill them with no moral qualms because they’ve become demon-worshipping predators now. Aroden and his chosen species will face no consequences or moral complications for his actions.

Humans are the good guys. Not necessarily individually, not even in the case of every nation (again, Cheliax, Nidal, etc), but on a global scale, most of this world agrees with that view. The non-human nations are small, isolationist, or evil, and the historical non-human empires are also almost all evil as well. There’s no … counter to the idea that humans did have a divine right to the world, no matter their self-proclaimed patron’s colonial impulses.

And I’m not sure how they’d go about fixing that either. Not from the point we’re starting at, here. Avistan doesn’t have any more room for any big, important, non-evil, non-human nations. The Inner Sea is kind of stuck where it’s at. We can change how places like Oprak and Belkzen are viewed, and at least with Belkzen they’ve actually been starting that, but there’s still the legacy of its entire previous portrayal to have to deal with. Aroden was a colonialist asshole, but the world doesn’t have a lot of room left to say he was wrong.

It may not be fixable at this stage. It might have to be just a legacy they have to live with of the early worldbuilding of their world. Which does, to be fair, come from a legacy of other ttrpg and fantasy worldbuilding. There definitely is an often unexamined legacy of colonialism and religion in western fantasy. It’s just that the place that shows up is not in the existence of gods and demons, or the trappings of fantasy religions, (or the word ‘crusade’), it’s in … the structure of the world around a single ‘good’ species/race/nation and the way that their evils aren’t treated the same way as the evils of the races/species/nations around it. The problem isn’t the existence of demons, it’s that it’s conveniently humanity’s enemies who are most susceptible to worshipping them.

Which is why I’m much less fussed when the demons themselves show up to fight. That’s a straight ‘supernatural invasion’ scenario. And why I’m also, again, much more forgiving of the Mendevian crusades, because they did go out of their way to show that the Sarkorians were not demon worshippers, they just had the misfortune that their nation was where the demons ripped through, and the crusaders trying to persecute them as spies/collaborators were wrong.

But I’m also, again, pretty okay with Taldor vs Kelesh as well, despite that hewing much closer, geopolitically speaking, to the actual real life crusades as well, because it’s portrayed as two empires of about equal rightness/wrongness vying for power and territory. Kelesh isn’t a devil/demon worshipping empire, it’s patron is closer to good than Taldor’s. Mechanically speaking.

(Mind you, Kelesh also isn’t give much attention, Casmaran hasn’t been offered as a playable area yet, so that is a factor as well).

Human empires, humans in general, are treated with a fairly even hand in relation to each other in Golarion. It’s non-humans where the disparity starts to show. Humans are broadly good, no matter how many empires they build, because they’re the dominant power in the world and the majority of them worship good gods. And even the ones that don’t, like Cheliax, are given attention. Adventures. Nuance. But non humans …

This setting is centered around a human god, who made it his life’s mission and his divine goal to raise humanity to supremacy. And they are. He succeeded. And the world does not see anything wrong with that. The two empires that old Azlant vied with, the serpent folk and the ghol-gan, are monstrous, evil, and dead. The people humanity’s god has wronged are considered evil themselves, so can seek no restitution for it. Any non-human nation that might rival humanity, not even necessarily in military terms, but even in cultural or divine terms, is … tiny, isolationist, or evil.

But it isn’t a dreadful setting. You just have to realise the legacy of the set-up going in. And, to be fair to Paizo, they are trying to work on it. It’s just going to be hard, given the corner the setting has been kind of written into.

Paizo, like Iomedae, just have a lot of work ahead of them.

So. After that post about crusades in fantasy, I just want to talk a little bit about my feelings about religion and the gods in Pathfinder specifically for a minute.

Firstly, I don’t actually like Iomedae as a goddess. I don’t object that she exists, you understand, but she wouldn’t be a goddess I would choose to play a follower of. That is less to do with Iomedae herself, though, and more with Aroden.

Because, see, I don’t mind that Iomedae is essentially the god of paladins. I don’t mind that she runs crusades against demons and necromancers. In a high fantasy setting like this, that’s what you have gods like Iomedae for. To fight demons. She’s doing her job, essentially. In case of demonic invasion, break glass. That’s why you have a war god or two in your back pocket for emergencies. I do not see, as I have explained exhaustively, the existence of demons in a fantasy setting and a god to fight them as any indication of real world religious opinion. These are genre conventions.

The god I do have an issue with is Aroden, the god of humanity, and his incredibly central role in the plot. Also Sarenrae, to a lesser extent, for similar reasons.

See. On the one hand, I do kind of get what story Aroden is aiming for. The human who becomes a god by his own courage and intelligence and strength, and who then goes on to sponsor humanity’s development and brings them out of the shadow of the telepathic Cthulhu monsters who secretly controlled them for so long. I get that.

The problem is that … Well, actually, it’s twofold.

The first problem is Aroden’s own background and behaviour, both before and after becoming a god. Aroden is the last surviving scion of the Azlanti Empire, Golarion’s equivalent of Atlantis, which was a vast techno-magical colonial power that had been ‘uplifted’, essentially, by the alghollthu, said Cthulhu monsters, to be better and more powerful than everything around them. The Azlanti had figured this out, and had planned to rise up against and destroy their ‘creators’, but the alghollthu saw this coming and dropped a fucking asteroid on them, destroying Azlant’s entire continent but also dropping the alghollthu themselves as well as the entire rest of the planet back to the stone age. Which … is fine, we can have fun with conspiracy theories here, I don’t object.

The problem is that Aroden, as the survivor, then goes to Azlant’s ex-colonies and attempts to do the same. To ‘uplift’ them, to keep Azlant’s culture and magical supremacy alive. Which. You do get. His culture just got literally vaporised, he wants to keep his homeland alive. But. He becomes immortal, he raises the Starstone, he becomes a god. And he then proceeds to become the patron deity of Azlant’s descendant empires. Taldor, in particular, the setting’s broadly Roman equivalent. He declares himself patron god of humanity as a species, and sets about trying to assert human supremacy. Taldor, as an empire, starts aggressively expanding pretty much immediately following this.

Aroden becomes, essentially, the god of colonialism? Species-based colonialism, at that.

Now. Sarenrae, as I mentioned, is doing pretty much the same thing over in the Empire of Kelesh, the setting’s Middle Eastern Muslim/Persian equivalent. The difference with Sarenrae, and the reason I don’t mind her quite so much, is that she’s not declaring herself humanity’s patron at the same time. So it’s less, you know. Race based.

If you are looking for the part of Pathfinder lore that does enter more problematic echoes-of-the-real-crusades territory, this is where you find it. The Mendevian crusades, despite the name, are mostly fine, they’re against an extraplanar threat. Taldor and Kelesh’s five thousand year war, on the other hand …

And even still, I might have not minded? Empires do this. Religions do this. I don’t necessarily mind the portrayal of a religious conflict between empires, even ones directly sponsored by a real deity. In this case, both empires are sponsored by a deity, and both deities are good. By alignment. Well, Aroden is actually lawful, not good, but basically neither of them have an evil alignment. So neither empire is especially vilified, at least not for their religion, they’re just … doing what empires do. Having a history like this as part of your fantasy world is not wrong, it’s good to explore that kind of history and verisimilitude.

The problem I have, the second part of the twofold problem above, is with Aroden. And specifically, Aroden’s role as patron of humanity.

Because Aroden is so central to Golarion’s lore. The death of prophecy, his death, is the defining event of the timeline. The entire Inner Sea region, the main setting until Pathfinder started branching out recently, is shaped by his actions. And they are broadly portrayed as … not necessarily right, but also not evil. Despite the fact that he is the scion of one human-supremacy empire and the sponsor of several others.

Humanity is considered kind of the rightfully dominant species of Golarion, at least of the surface world? The elves are from another world, the orcs, dwarves and goblins are all latecomers from underground, most other non-human species live in and around human civilisations. Most of the big historical non-human empires, like the serpent folk and the Ghol-gan, were explicitly evil, either initially or falling to evil over time, while humans, no matter how many empires we build, are more or less fine. Granted, Cheliax is a thing, so this is not one hundred percent. But, the thing is. Cheliax didn’t fall to devil worship until after Aroden died. So. We’re still here with Aroden as the rightful saviour and sponsor of humanity. And humanity, while following him, are the rightful inheritors of the world.

And it bugs me, because Aroden’s kind of a fucking dick? He’s a coloniser, originating from a colonising nation, and sponsoring others once he ascends to godhood. Now, again, Sarenrae, despite being of good alignment, also gets some of this, but Aroden being humanity’s patron, being a sponsor of colonialism on a racial/species level, gets me worse.

Now! Again. Something to consider here is that Pathfinder then explicitly killed him. Aroden is dead. And that is not a later decision, that was the initial event that kicked off Golarion as a setting in 1e. What does humanity do in a world where our sponsor god is abruptly dead. What do we do when our quite literal divine right up and fucking dies straight out of the gate. So Pathfinder is engaging with the problem. It’s just.

Aroden is so central. Humanity is so central. Even still, it’s not really questioned. Almost all the big movers and shakers are human, with the non-human ancestries kind of tacked on around the edges. And I do get it. The audience is human. A huge number of players, starting out, pick human as their ancestry, because it’s familiar. I do get it. But it does have some implications.

So yeah. Aroden is where Pathfinder’s worldbuilding around religion and species and morality bugs me. Not enough to write it off, it’s a fantastic setting, but yeah. It’s not perfect.

And Iomedae, unfortunately, despite the fact that she is mostly just doing her job, does get a bit of that by proxy as his inheritor.

[palindromes-art]

Melarue

Finally finished my half of the art trade I had with the wonderful @justanartsysideblog ! Thank you so much for your patience as I worked on this! I really wanted to take my time and give Melarue the attention they deserved. I might still go back an tweak a few things, but I am actually very very happy with how this turned out!

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Hello! Don't know if you rember me but I'm the anon that asked about butterfly wings on humans and their bone anatomy. I have now come to ask about something completely different: How big and thick should a humanoid leviathan's tail be? I'm talking like a human-sized, kinda like the Luca characters humanoid, who travels through deep waters and isn't exactly buff. Don't know if you need more details! I'm sorry in advance!

okay, assuming your leviathans are similar in appearance to some prehistoric marine reptiles, with scales and flippers and all that, I'm going for a sort of marine iguana style tail, but i've added a dorsal fin for fun (optional) you can arrange any fins or flippers according to your vision.

(image description: a loosely sketched humanoid with a thick reptilian tail for swimming. There is a dorsal sail going from the waist to the tip of the tail, and the arms and legs are comparatively much thinner than the tail, which is noted to have big attachment muscles. Around the figure, there are a few extra sketches and some notes. At the top, a note explaining that the tail will have a flattened vertical shape, with a long oval cross section. On the bottom, a note that walking with this tail will be difficult and likely require the person/creature to lean forward and lift the tail in order to walk on land. There is also a short list of real animals to use as reference. Marine iguanas, sea snakes, and crocodiles/alligators. end description.)

swimming is a high energy activity, if you're not just built to float along with the currents. It requires some strong muscles, which is part of the reason so many marine animals with quadrupedal ancestors just put all their muscles in the tail and then shrank the heck out of their legs.

So a humanoid marine reptile type of creature will definitely have muscle priority in the tail instead of the legs. Which also means the glutes are gonna be flattened into the tail muscles, so if you were hoping to give these leviathan humanoids a nice butt, i am very sorry. it's not gonna fit with the big tail muscles.

These muscles attach to the spine and pelvic bones, mostly, and the ones right at the base of the tail are going to put the most power into the motion of the tail for swimming. The flat shape of the tail is also better for swimming, since it creates more surface area to push the water. Like a big paddle.

hopefully this is the sort of advice you were looking for! have fun!

[akirameta84]

i need more dragon saiki um *opens brain and sorts through it like a bunch of files*

okay everyone is a fantasy creature of some sort thats just normal and saiki is a dragon (wyvern, scalely) because theyre nearly extinct cause obviously. his dad is just human but kuusuke and kurumi (kurumis family are largely descendant from ancient dragons) are humans with draconic features, kusuo is just the magic genetic outlier

animalistic people are normal so while he doesnt fit in because hes unique (hes person sized just dragon proportioned. no issues with builsings or furniture aside from arm wings getting in the way) society generally already has accomadations that make life not nearly as difficult as it couldve been

anyways other main cast:

kuboyasu is a werewolf. duh. he and saki can bond over "some rare jerks treat us/out other form as feral animals when theyre perfectly sentient like everyone else"

kaidou is a vampire. he has a tiny bat form. he has a mild phobia of blood and heights

teruhashi is a harpy who has singlehandedly been raising the species reputation because they used to be stereotyped as evil and cannibals but she has restored it by existing

hairo is a centaur. he is in the hospital every few months for a broken leg

yumehara is human but she is really into the idea of having her blood sucked consensually

aiura is a siren. or mermaid but just very feral in general with claws and snake eyes and sharp fins etc. not a boring mermaid

toritsuka is a kitsune who is basically a newborn baby for kitsunes because hes actually only 17. he has one tail at this age, obviously, but hes also just kinda cringe so

yeah. okay enjoy post 👍

[thevoidable]

SANGHEILI HEADCANON TIEM

Okay okay so we’re all in agreement that the Sangheili have a sick design and it’s super fun to think of all the various ways they could look, like different skin tones, eye colours, markings, etc.

But I’m sure one type of design that’s crossed a lot of people’s minds is an albino Sangheili, and so I’ve made it my job today to delve into what that could theoretically and realistically look like and how they would exist in the Halo universe!

(Full disclaimer: I am not an “ologist” of any kind and the following is 100% speculation based on what I was able to research, so apologies if there’s any information I get incorrect.)

So the first thing to consider and look at is how real-world albinism works. Albinism can be present in humans, animals, and even plants (bet you didn’t know that. Neither did I). The simplest way I can explain how it’s caused is it stems from a gene mutation that occurs during the growth of the embryo that prevents the natural production of melanin, the pigments that give our skin, eyes, and hair their colour. This is what makes organisms with albinism appear white or lacking in darker colours. 

The poster-child appearance for albinism is pure white skin/fur/feathers/scales and red/pink eyes, but this isn’t always the case. Some species with albinism possess the yellow or red/orange pigmentations known as carotenoids, which are actually caused by the animal’s diet, unlike melanin which is naturally produced by the body. As for the eyes, the lack of melanin actually makes all of the blood vessels visible, which is what gives them their red colour.

(It’s also important to note that albinism should not be confused with leucism; albinism is the complete loss of pigmentation, while leucism is the partial loss of pigmentation. Leucism also affects all pigments, not just melanin, which is why leucistic snakes for example are pure white (or piebald; leucism can be very patchy) and have no visible patterns, because the carotenoids are also being prevented. Leucistic animals also commonly have blue eyes.)

Now, what are the health impacts of albinism? Creatures with albinism are generally as healthy as any other of their species (well, most of the time anyway; sometimes there are exceptions) - it’s external factors that give them a less than stellar reputation. For wild animals, albinism obviously gets rid of any camouflage, so prey are easy targets for predators, and predators find it difficult to go unnoticed by prey. But the food chain isn’t their biggest threat: it’s actually the sun.

Melanin is our natural protection against UV, and without it, we’re extremely vulnerable to burns and skin cancer. Since albinism affects your eyes, sunlight can seriously harm your vision, too - think of melanin in your eyes as natural sunglasses; take those sunglasses away and the light is suddenly not very pleasant to look at. Not only are you photosensitive, but there’s no UV protection here either, so prolonged exposure in the sunlight means your vision will quickly degrade. The same goes for animals, and this is why many don’t survive to adulthood.

So, with all that in mind, let’s take a look at some real-world photos of albinism (in reptiles specifically, since Sangheili are saurian) so we can start putting together how it might look on a Sangheili.

Since albinism appears differently on varying species, we’ll start by organizing them by type and then decide which varient works best for a Sangheili. 

Starting with snakes, patterned carotenoids are very common, and in some cases parts of the snake can even appear translucent:

Lizards are also very similar in that aspect:

Crocodillians (usually alligators) however don’t always have prominent patterning, so a majority of them are mostly white with tinted areas of carotenoids instead:

(Babies are an exception though)

There’s also turtles, but I wanted to keep this list limited to reptiles that are similar to Sangheili.

Now, which out of all the above is correct for an albino Sangheili?

Looking at the model, well...it could honestly be any of them. It’s entirely dependent on the creative liberties you take with your character - for example, if you want your Sangheili to have patterning, then they’ll probably have carotenoids since they’re omnivorous (but because they’re aliens, those pigments might not even be yellow or red/orange). However, if your Sangheili is a lot more plain, then they’ll most likely be more white with slight tinting, like alligators.

If you want my opinion though, Sangheili skin seems to resemble a combination of crocodillians and lizards the most. They have rough, bumpy osteoderms lining their head, shoulders, and back, as well as loose patches of skin, especially around the mouth and neck. The latter I could see having a slight translucency to it with albinism, but the former would be plain white (with some hints of pigmentation), since the rest of their skin is very thick.

However, there’s one thing about the Sangheili that makes them differ slightly to Earth’s albinos:

Sangheili blood isn’t red.

(Even though it tehcnically should be because oxygen is what makes blood cells red and Sangheili breathe oxygen but whatever ALIENS)

But why am I bringing this up, you ask?

Well, remember that red eyes in albinos are caused by the blood vessels being visible due to the lack of melanin. So, if Sangheili blood isn’t red...

That’s right, albino Sangheili would have indigo-coloured eyes instead. 

The colour of the blood could also potentially affect some of the white on their skin, especially where translucency and visible blood vessels are concerned, making them appear more blue or purple tinted.

So yeah, that’s something to keep in mind.

WOO, now that we’ve covered how albino Sangheili would look, it’s time to go over if they would even be around in the Halo universe!

And, well...they actually wouldn’t.

And that’s not because they can’t exist in the first place, they absolutely can be born because it’s simply a genetic mutation. The reason you wouldn’t ever see one though is because they would never survive for long.

Especially on Sanghelios.

Sanghelios, for those of you who don’t know, is a planet in a tri-star system, meaning it has THREE SUNS. As such, the planet’s surface is an incredibly harsh environment, and most of its land is dry and rocky.

Remember what I said about albinism causing a lack of UV protection? Albino reptiles are especially prone to UV radiation because they have no fur or feathers, which would otherwise provide some protection.

And since the Sangheili are so far behind on medical science, they would have no idea that it’s the sunlight that kills their albinos.

In fact, as Sangheili are very supersitious, I wouldn’t be surprised if they actually believe these “white childlings born with eyes of blood” are cursed. They’re probably seen as a sign of ill omen, and I can imagine many parents trying their best to prevent a seemingly doomed fate, while others would know it is fultile and give their child an early mercy.

However, since many Sangheili now have an alliance with the humans, it’s entirely possible that albinos can finally starting growing to adulthood, because all it would take is a human visiting Sanghelios and seeing or hearing about an albino childling and going, “Oh yeah it’s cuz they’re born without natural protection is all, just keep them out of the sun and they should be fine” and imagine how many Sangheili minds would be blown that day, lmao.

Anyway, CONCLUSION: Albino Sangheili pretty 

That is all, thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Tug Of War: End of Rope

Prompts: Very Soft platonic or queer-platonic h/c story with a focus on the recovery that lets Roman pour out all his love onto someone? Your Roman comforting the others— desperately asking them to let him hold them, telling them they did good, calling them pet names and spoiling them with praise and affection— is amazing! Logan or Patton are my top choices but feel free to choose anyone you like. Thanks if you write this, no pressure if you don't; anything you write feels like a gift to me anyway - anon

Hi there! I kind of might have read almost all of your Sanders Sides fics in two days, so I don't know which story exactly this was in but at some point Roman said the line, "Please let me be soft with you," and truly it killed me inside (in the best way possible). I would absolutely love it if Roman said this or a similar phrase again, and I just really love all of your writing in general, it's amazing! - anon

Janus who is secretly a naga and hides it from the other sides until one day he can’t. He’s also extremely touch starved and nobody touches his scales but when they do he just MELTS into a big NOODLE PUDDLE because SCALE SCRITCHES ON HIS TAIL AND FACE ARE AMAZING (idk if you are even accepting prompts at this time, but if you aren’t please ignore this!) hurt comfort and cuddles feel free to tear my heart out if you feel like it! Platonic DLAMP? - anon

I'm pretty sure you just KILLED me with Tug Of War, so hi *waves* my ghost has returned to beg for a sequel! Preferably with some acceptance for Virgil and healing for Janus and his friendship? I love your writing so much by the way (: - anon

Are you still taking prompts? If so: Angsty Janus who just wants pets AND/or has intense urges to protect everyone because self preservation. Just has to be touching people and make sure they’re okay. Over and over. No romance, only Janus cuddles. - anon

Hey could you do a hurt/comfort where Janus hates pictures of himself cause it reminds him he has a face and his face has scales and he hates his face cause scales? -Nex

I have got a prompt for Sanders Sides, any characters/relationships are fine by me just: Forehead Kisses. More of those than I've found and more of your amazing writing are greatly appreciated, since I love them both very much. Thank you!! - anon

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: some self-hatred, touch starvation, hypothermia

Pairings: dlampr, platonic or romantic i don't care

Word Count: 4531

It started with him avoiding the uploads. He didn’t watch the footage back, did his best to ignore the editing process, didn’t look at the thumbnails if he knew he was going to be in them.

Then he doesn’t want to spend time with the others in the living room because sometimes the camera is still in there and they’ll want to film with it. He doesn’t want to be on camera like that, doesn’t want to have his picture taken, doesn’t want to be asked if he likes it.

Then he starts avoiding mirrors.

The others don’t notice, or if they have, they haven’t said anything. But that’s fine, he doesn’t expect them to. Their job is not to worry about him, that is his job. He is the one who worries and protects them.

Are you willing to let the cost be worth the reward?

He suppresses a flinch and moves away from that train of thought. He moves away from the memories of wry remarks that it was a good thing there were two of them to keep the others from dying. He moves away from the memory of someone leaving.

He’s cold.

The stupidest thing about snakes is that they’re cold-blooded. Do you know how difficult it is for a biped to fail to thermoregulate? Do you know how inconvenient it is to not be able to curl around yourself to keep warm?

Do you know how awful it is to have to shove your lower half into a mockery of limbs and tread on broken glass and sword tips every time you take a step? Do you know how much it hurts to see scales crawling up the side of your face, your neck, your body every time you see someone else with your face the way it should look? Do you know how cold it is?

It is not worth the risk to have them see more of his scales. It is not worth the risk to have the disguise ripped away and be met with disgust. It is not worth losing the ground he has worked and hurt so hard to gain.

But sometimes, oh, sometimes, he gives in to the selfish need and lets himself want.

He remembers the feeling of Logan’s arms around him. He remembers the whispered words that you are allowed to ask for help. He remembers feeling accepted, not just being accepted.

He curls his arms tighter around his tail.

He remembers warm hands on his scales and the soft brush of a purple hoodie. He remembers slow and patient dry-brushing from hands with green nail polish. He remembers realizing he couldn’t ask for that anymore.

The wounds have closed, the scars have formed, but the ache will not fade.

———————

A side effect of being so consumed by the cold of self-loathing is that many things can go unseen.

A quiet word between Logan and Virgil after filming one day, where Virgil blinks in surprise as Logan offers to continue their conversation in his room.

A laugh surprised out of Roman’s throat as Virgil makes a quip about a character’s backstory, leading to banter back and forth as the two of them mock the poor writing skills of a misogynistic prick.

A soft smile hidden under dark eyeshadow and purple fringe as Patton asks him how he likes his sandwich.

Little moments. Small enough to be overlooked if they aren’t looked for, big enough to start something greater.

Bigger moments, too, can go unseen, if the cold bites at the scales and forces the arms to tighten.

An accepted correction as Virgil points out a flaw in Logan’s conclusion, something they’ve overlooked, and they work through the argument together.

A joint movie review of The Nightmare Before Christmas that ends in a passionate discussion about Disney and cultural appropriation, Roman’s impression of Donald Trump sending Virgil into stitches.

A clumsy yet endearing attempt at baking made by two people who are too giddy at the fact that it’s happening, leading to Patton accidentally spraying flour all over Virgil’s hoodie.

But if the cold is particularly harsh and the bile of hating what form bears the brunt of its wrath is too bitter, these too can go unnoticed.

Unnoticed, too, are the concerned murmurs.

Questions about places in the videos, whether he’s feeling overlooked, neglected.

Questions about the mirrors, are they too bright, are there too many?

Questions about how he’s walking, is he hurt, does he have an accessibility need they’re not accommodating, they’ve seen him using his staff as a cane, are they being ableist even un-intentionally?

Questions that come from all Sides of the Mindscape, even those that know some of the answers.

One of whom is getting more and more worried as his oldest friend slips further and further away.

———————

It’s cold.

It’s cold.

It’s so fucking cold.

Janus huddles on the ground in front of the fireplace, late at night when there isn’t anyone else around, and pulls his tail as tightly around him as he can. The fire dances in the hearth and the light makes his scales reflect patterns around the room. He closes his eyes tight.

It’s cold. His scales hate him. The cold worms its way under them and refuses to budge, even as the heat from the fire starts to hurt the part that isn’t scaly. He grist his teeth and hugs his tail tighter.

His own hands are cold. They feel weightless. Empty. Like cardboard cutouts, two-dimensional, not real, not enough. Not worth it.

A whine he will deny until his dying day squeezing between the coils of his tail and he buries his head beneath the cold, cold scales.

“Hey, you—oh, Jesus, J, come on, don’t do that.”

He’s hallucinating. He’s hallucinating because that sounds like Virgil and Virgil would never be here, not now, not after everything, and his imagination is being cruel to him.

“Come on, J, you’re gonna hurt yourself, unwind, just a bit, hey, hey—oh, you poor thing.”

Virgil is not here. Virgil is not here.

“Come on, J, don’t make me play dirty.”

Virgil isn’t here. Virgil isn’t here and his imagination is being cruel and he doesn’t want to imagine what happens next because it won’t be real and he will cry.

“Alright, you asked for it.”

A warm hand lands on his tail and begins to scratch.

A shudder runs through his body and punches a low, mortifying sound from his throat. There’s a quiet hum from somewhere next to him and the hand moves.

“Come on,” Virgil—Virgil?—coaxes, his hand still scratching at the scales, “just poke your head up for me, let me see you, come on, J.”

He raises his head slowly, very slowly, reaching for this to be a lie and for the room to be cold and empty and for his scales to ache, only to see a concerned Virgil staring at him.

“Hey, J,” he says quietly, “you’re not doing so hot, are you?”

Dumbfounded, Janus can only shake his head. Virgil makes a sympathetic noise and his hand moves.

“How long have you been wearing this—“ he waves vaguely at the tail—“under your, you know, metaphysical meat sack? Too long?”

“T-too l-long.”

“Shit, J, you’re really cold. Okay, uh—“

Janus watches in wary astonishment as Virgil gets up and starts to gather the blankets and pillows around the room. When he crouches back down to tuck them into place, he pauses and tilts his head.

“What’s that look, huh?”

“What—what’re you—what’re you doing?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing, J,” Virgil teases gently, “I’m helping.”

And Janus, who has been so cold for long enough that he’s forgotten what human warmth looks like, just stares at him. Virgil holds his gaze for a moment, then softens and gives him a rueful smile.

“So maybe this is my apology,” he mumbles, “for, uh, what I did to you and said to you.”

He tucks the first blanket around Janus’s shoulders.

“You…you’re good, J. I’m—you know I’m not good with words. I’m sorry, okay, that’s—that I know. I’m sorry I fucked stuff up for us. Just—“ he tucks it into place and holds his gaze— “we’re good, okay? You’re all good with me.”

“I—I am?”

“Shit, J, I should be asking you that.” He sets the last of the blankets down and carefully reaches out to cup Janus’s shoulders. “What’s going on, talk to me?”

Janus’s hands are too cold to grip anything properly, sliding through the coils of his tail and off of Virgil’s arms. Virgil makes another noise and takes one in his, rubbing and blowing softly to try and warm him up.

“You’re freezing,” he murmurs, “let’s—let’s worry about getting you warm, okay?”

But as he tries to pry Janus loose from the frozen tangle he’s found himself in, he can’t. The limb is coiled so tightly, so cold, that every effort just sends another icy shiver through Janus’s body. Pained whispers and muffled gasps break the silence as the fire snaps and crackles. Eventually, when even scratching the scales won’t help, Virgil pulls back and sighs.

“J, you need help.”

“I’m aware.”

“No, look at me—“ he catches Janus’s chin— “you need help that I can’t give you. Can I—can I call the others?”

The others?

“Shh, shh, hey, okay—hold on, J, J, you gotta breathe.” Warm hands are on his scales, on his face, soft and pleasant and there. “In and out, J, come on…”

Janus leans into the warm, shuddering a little as Virgil talks him back into breathing normally. He curls in on himself again, even as Virgil tries to coax him out of it.

Is it worth the cost, when even after the dust has settled, you can’t stop hurting?

“It’s okay, Janus, it’s okay, I’m not—I’m not mad anymore.”

Even when the hurt has been patched, can you forget the memory of it?

“Janus? Janus, please, just—just look at me.”

Worry laces Virgil’s expression as Janus looks up, softening the slightest bit as they make eye contact.

“You need help, Janus,” he explains in the soft worried voice he remembers, “I…I can’t take care of you by myself.”

His expression hardens.

“And both me and Remus will kick their asses if they make fun of you.”

And just that, just the smallest memory of when the three of them were close friends, is enough to make Janus nod.

“Janny? Janny, Virge said—oh, fuck!”

Janus winces as Remus almost barrels into him, just saving himself from tripping over his tail. Remus quickly collapses to the ground and rolls out of the way, reaching out to push the pillow back into place.

“Sorry, Jan-Jan, I didn’t mean to.”

“Virgil? Is everything—oh.” Patton’s eyes widen as he sees Janus and Janus watches him swallow questions on the tip of his tongue. “What can I do?”

“Jan-Jan’s too cold right now,” Remus explains, carefully nudging Virgil out of the way and gesturing for Patton to come sit next to him, “we—well, uh, I don’t actually know how to explain it.”

“Is Logan coming?”

“Is that okay,” Virgil whispers to Janus, and when Janus nods, he turns to Patton, “I’ll summon him.”

“What is—oh,” Logan murmurs, spotting the four of them huddled near the fire, “Janus, I didn’t realize you were a naga, my apologies.”

“I h-hid it from—from you,” Janus stutters, “you—you weren’t supposed—you weren’t supposed to know.”

“I see. Are…are you alright with getting help now?”

“I don’t—don’t have much of a choice.”

Logan glances around and must see the wash of concern on their faces—he leans down and nudges a pillow out of the way and kneels near Janus’s tail.

“Virgil, what do we do?”

“Wha—me? Why’re you asking me?”

“You’re the one that called us here,” Logan says softly, “and you’re the one who most likely knows what to do.”

“R-right, um—“ Virgil shakes his head to clear it— “we need to get him stretched out. If he’s like this for too long his tail will seize and it’ll cause muscle damage.”

“Alright.” Logan reaches out and gently lays a warm hand on Janus’s scales. Janus shudders. “I apologize if this is sensitive, but we’re going to have to move your tail.”

“I—I know.”

Warm hands worm their way through his coils and oh, oh, they’re warm, they’re so warm but his tail is so cold that he’s pulling away from them as much as he’s trying to relax and let them move him. The struggle sends bolts of pain ricocheting up his spine and he whimpers.

“This isn’t working,” Patton mutters, “we’re just hurting him.”

“We have to get him unwrapped, he’s going to get hurt more if we don’t.”

“But not by force!”

“Snakey,” Remus murmurs, “Snakey, I know it’s hard, but can you—can you relax any more?”

Janus just winces, shaking his head as he begins to shiver terribly. Virgil curses.

“Alright,” he mutters, “it’s big gun time.”

Janus’s head jerks up. “B-big gun? What’s—what’s the—what’s the big gun?”

Virgil gives him a look. “Princey?”

Oh.

Oh, dear.

“There you all are, I’ve been looking everywhere for…”

Roman’s voice trails off as Janus hides his head in his arms and his tail. Distantly, he hears Virgil explaining in a low voice what’s going on and Roman must say something back. He feels the warmth of the others begin to pull away, followed by the soft whooshing noises as they sink out, one by one.

It’s not that he fears Roman’s reaction to finding out about his…everything more than the others, it’s just—just—

After the fight is over, and you’ve won, will you still feel as though you deserve the reward? Can you let yourself accept it, knowing what it took to get here?

Soft footsteps coming closer and another presence, this time between him and the fire. The part of him that isn’t covered in scales ache with the relief of the reprieve, even when his scales cry out in the cold.

“Little snake,” he hears, softer than he can imagine, “little snake, can you look at me, please?”

He squeezes his eyes shut and begins to raise his head, only opening his eyes once he’s sure he won’t duck away. Roman meets his gaze easily, face in shadow from the fire, and smiles.

“Hello, little snake,” he murmurs, “you look very cold.”

Janus jerks his head in a nod. Slowly, Roman extends a hand to him, but doesn’t touch. The proximity burns.

“Can you take my hand, please?”

Janus’s limbs whine in protest as he tries to move them, finally fumbling his cold hand into Roman’s warm one. A gasp tears from his throat from the effort, even as Roman wraps his fingers around his hand to keep it there.

“Thank you, little snake, very good.” The praise washes over him and he shudders. “Can you squeeze my hand?”

The muscles don’t want to respond, cold all the way through, but he grits his teeth and manages to squeeze Roman’s hand. Roman lets out another soft noise.

“Good, little snake, very good.” He gives Janus’s hand a gentle squeeze of his own. “Now, if at any point I do something you don’t like, or if you want me to stop for any reason, try and squeeze twice, okay?”

“O-okay.”

“Let’s try,” Roman murmurs, reaching out and gently stroking Janus’s shoulder with two fingers, “can you tell me to stop?”

Janus fumbles through the squeezes only to make a bereft sound when Roman immediately pulls his hand away. He chuckles.

“Shh, it’s alright, you did very well, little snake. I need to make sure you can stop me if you need to, hmm? Do you think that’ll work?”

“What…what’re you g-going to do—to do to me?”

“Yeesh, Janus, you make it sound like you’re in trouble.” Roman rubs the back of his hand with his thumb to soften the tease. “I’m just here to help. Virgil said you were having trouble getting warm, is that right?”

He nods, tail twitching miserably.

“I’m sorry about that, little snake…and you’re having trouble unwinding because you’re cold, but you’re having trouble warming up because you’re a little noodle ball right now, hmm?”

“It’s st-stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, little snake,” comes the gentle chide, “it just is. And I’m here to help.”

Janus sneaks a look around the rest of the room. “H-how? W-why did you send—send the others away?”

“Because you’re not just cold because of the temperature, Janus,” Roman says softly, “you’re touch starved.”

He is?

“You haven’t made a habit of physical contact since you started spending more time with us,” Roman says, “and Remus says that since you and Virgil…”

‘Fell apart,’ he fills in, and yes, that—that was the last person who knew exactly how to read Janus’s feelings toward touch.

Is…is he touch starved?

Oh.

Oh.

“Yeah, little snake,” Roman murmurs, “so I sent them to go gather the best blankets and pillows from every corner of the Mindscape while we start warming you up.”

“W-why?”

“Well—“ Roman shifts his weight, easing a little further into the floor— “a lot of touch all at once can be very overwhelming, especially when you’re not used to it and you’re already cold.”

“O-oh.”

He smiles. “So just me for right now, hmm? We’re just going to go slow, as slow as you like, to get you used to it. Is that alright?”

Hands. Hands on his skin, on his scales, warm hands…he’s nodding before Roman can finish the question.

“Good, good, little snake…I’m going to touch you now, alright?” Roman reaches his free hand and starts to stroke Janus’s shoulder again, just two fingers. “Can you feel that?”

He nods.

“Good,” he murmurs, his hand moving to cup the side of his neck, “what about there, yes?”

The rush of warmth makes his eyes grow heavy but he nods, even as Roman chuckles.

“Good, little snake, you’re doing very well. Just relax, I’m right here, nothing’s going to hurt you right now.” The hand moves to scritch gently at the scales under his chin and he keens. “Oh? Just here?”

Roman’s fingers wiggle again and Janus shudders.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Roman whispers, his breath fanning across Janus’s hand, “please, please let me be soft with you, let me spoil you.”

“What—what happened to going slow?”

But then warm fingers slip up and smooth firmly over his cheek scales and it punches a whimper from his throat. His hand twitches and his eyes slam shut. The rush of warmth is staggering.

As soon as it starts to get overwhelming, Roman backs off, hand cupping the back of Janus’s head as he presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Sorry, little snake, that was mean.”

“What’s mean is you stopping,” Janus mumbles, trying to push into the warmth of it, only growing mortified after he realizes what he’s said.

Roman’s laugh gentles away the kindling embarrassment as he strokes his thumb gently along Janus’s scaled cheek. “I won’t stop, little snake, not if you don’t want me to.”

Janus begins to float, up out of his body, following the trails of Roman’s hand along his face. Unconsciously, he starts to move, to chase it, even as Roman chuckles and tells him it’s alright, good job, just like that.

“You’re getting used to touch again,” he murmurs, “that’s good. You’re already relaxing for me…good…good, little snake. I’m right here, I’m right here.”

His voice creates a white noise of reassurance, holding him close, coaxing his walls down. Janus’s control over his breathing slips. His chest begins to heave. Then he tips his head up and kisses his forehead with another quiet: “it’s alright, Janus, it’s alright,” and that’s it.

He can’t—he can’t— he leans into Roman’s hand on his neck—he needs—

“…more?”

“Of course, little snake,” Roman murmurs, “may I touch your tail, now?”

Janus nods, only letting out a small whine when Roman’s hand begins to travel down his neck, his arm, finally coming to rest on the top of his coils. The whine quickly morphs to a groan as Roman begins to rub small circles into the scales.

“I read about snakes with Logan and Remus not too long ago,” comes Roman’s voice, “about the difference between the scales on the back of the snake and the underbelly. They tend to be smaller, a little thinner, right?”

Warm fingers begin to trail toward the underside of the top coil.

“It’s not good for them to be pressed against something cold,” Roman continues, “not if you want to warm up. Can we try and see if we can get you to relax enough to press them against something warm?”

Janus nods just as Roman runs his hand along the row of scales separating the coils and his hand tightens on instinct.

“Janus?” Roman pulls his hand away immediately. “Are you alright?”

Janus is most certainly not alright. The touch of something warm there, someone touching his scales there, was enough to make him shudder from top to tip. Roman’s waiting for him to say something and he needs—he needs to be warm.

“Please—“ he tugs Roman’s hand back toward his tail— “please—“

“You don’t have to beg, little snake,” Roman’s hushing, “I’ll give you what you want, just be patient. I don’t want to overwhelm you. That could be a worse shock to your system than letting you stay cold.”

“Just—please?”

“Is this your way of asking me to use two hands?” When Janus nods frantically, Roman smiles and sets Janus’s hand on his shoulder. “Do you remember what to do if you want me to stop?”

Janus quickly squeezes Roman’s shoulder twice.

“Good, little snake, good job.” Roman gently lays his warm hands on Janus’s tail. “You’re getting warmer, good, do you think you might be able to relax for me soon?”

“I’ll try.”

Roman smiles and leans forward to kiss his forehead again. “Good.”

“How’re you so warm,” Janus mumbles as he begins to trace his scales again.

“Space heater,” Roman chuckles, “drove Remus mad when we were younger.”

Janus opens his mouth to say something else but Roman’s fingers brush between two coils and he melts, shuddering into the side of Roman’s neck. Roman doesn’t pause, simply turns his head to murmur into Janus’s ear.

“There? Does that feel alright?” When Janus doesn’t reply, but doesn’t squeeze either, he chuckles. “Can you melt a little more for me, sweetheart? Can we get you warm?”

Roman’s fingers scritch with gentle relentlessness at the soft section of scales and slowly, slowly Janus finds himself lying down on the pile of blankets and pillows as his tail relaxes bit by bit.

“Good, good little snake, that’s it, you’re doing so well.” Another kiss pressed to his forehead. Roman’s fingers move a little to the left and Janus yelps. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, just…sensitive.”

He can feel Roman grin against him. “Is your tail ticklish, little snake?”

Before he can answer, Roman’s nails skitter around the scales again and he squeezes.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m teasing, I’ll stop.” He gentles, rubbing the pads of his fingers up and down the top of Janus’s spine to help him calm down. “Are you feeling a little warmer now?”

“Mhm.” Janus blinks lazily up at him. “’S warm here.”

“Yeah, little snake, is it warm?” Roman smiles. “I’m glad, you’re doing very well.”

“Holy shit, Princey, that was fast.”

Virgil appears over Roman’s shoulder, spreading a warmsoftcomfortablesafe blanket over the end of Janus’s tail. A few seconds later and Remus pops into view, coaxing Janus’s head up to lay a pillow under it. Patton and Logan follow not too far behind, packing the rest of the pile into place and settling around the edges.

“I told you he was good,” Remus grins.

“Yeah, yeah, shh. I’m tired and I’m gonna sleep here.”

“Ooh, sleep, yes, good.” Remus flops onto the ground. “Me too.”

Roman’s hand stays soothing and gentle on Janus’s tail as he lays down too, tucking Janus’s blanket around the both of them as he kisses Janus’s cheek.

“Stay warm, little snake, hmm?”

Janus mumbles sleepily.

Is it worth it, at the end of the day, after all the work you’ve put in?

Yes, because you can always work to make it better.

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[demonsandco]

Okay okay we know with their demon forms it requires a lot of upkeep now what do you think they would do and what they need help with. Cause what comes to mind is a family grooming session 😊

I love this ask thank youuuu. I wasn't sure if you wanted their canon forms, but this is mostly based on my own personal headcanons for their demon forms! I hope you don’t mind that :) It would be much easier for them to handle their insane forms, but what's the fun in that?

Before I start, all demon horns need constant maintenance. Demon horns never actually stop growing, so routine sanding, usually with a custom shaped whetstone, is important to keep horns smooth and to keep them from getting too long. Without proper care, horns can easily become overgrown and asymmetrical, as well as gain a rough, dry and almost scaly texture, which is rather uncomfortable for the demon in question

All other forms of upkeep vary from demon to demon, depending on what features they have (ei. scales, feathers, fur, hair, etc.).

Lucifer

Lucifer's horns are rather easy to reach, curling forward along the sides of his head, so it's fairly simple for him to keep them maintained himself. It's something that he does often, especially because neglecting them could easily impact his image. After all, it's common to see him bring out his demon form to intimidate others, and he wants to make sure he looks well put together. Caring for his horns is not much different than shaving his face in the morning, nothing more than a quick and simple part of his routine.

The thing that actually gives Lucifer trouble is his wings and tail. General self care is something he can handle easily, but feathers naturally wear down and need to be replaced, which means molting. Molting leaves him feeling absolutely miserable. His entire back starts looking patchy and he feels itchy and irritated all over, but he can never seem to properly reach the areas giving him trouble himself. His pride tends to get in the way of asking for help, so he's often left to suffer through it until the new feathers finish growing in.

Lucifer would need to trust someone quite a bit in order to let them help, but it's always a huge relief to have that itchiness soothed by a caring hand. Most often, Mammon ends up being the one to help out. Not only is the second born the only other one who still has feathers, but he's also very skilled at reading Lucifer's moods and telling when he needs help. They never speak about it afterwards, but it's a much needed binding experience for both of them.

(The rest are under the cut)

Mammon

Being a model, Mammon takes very good care of his appearance. Unfortunately, no matter how many times he does it, his horns always give him an insane amount of trouble. They're very tightly coiled and rest at a slightly backwards angle, making it difficult for Mammon to reach the inside parts of his horns. It's not uncommon to see him sulking his way over to Asmodeus' room for help with those hard to reach areas, after spending hours trying to do it himself and failing.

Other than his horns, Mammon has it pretty easy. Like Lucifer, he has to deal with molting, but it never seems to last too long for him, much to the eldest's envy. His wings are also featherless, so molting is nowhere near as uncomfortable for him. The only big feathers he needs to worry about replacing are the ones on his tail. The rest are much smaller and less irritating to regrow.

His wings and other featherless areas do need extra care, though, in the form of moisturizing. Without protection from feathers, those areas get dry and cracked easily, especially if he goes flying. To deal with it, he's got a pretty big collection of scented moisturizing lotions and oils that he can pick from, most of which were gifts from Asmodeus, since they have similar wings.

Leviathan

Levi's demon form is rather unique compared to his brothers. Instead of having true horns, he has antlers. Rather than needing constant care, his horns grow to their full size, shed their outer layer of skin and then eventually fall off to start the process again. Levi often goes to the ocean to isolate himself when his horns are ready to fall. He usually lets them sink to the bottom, where they take the form of the devildom equivalent of coral, providing shelter for aquatic life.

On top of shedding his horns, he also sheds his skin. His sheds are entirely determined by his horns, happening once when the antlers are full grown and ready to lose their protective, velvety skin, and again later on when they're ready to fall. While his antlers' life cycle is reminiscent of a deer's, the shedding of his skin is very similar to a snake's shed. It's not hard to tell when Levi is close to shedding. The old skin begins to separate itself from his new scales, giving him a dull gray sheen over his body and his eyes begin to look dull and glazed over.

It's definitely not a pleasant feeling and he can't see very well through the skin either, so he tends to avoid his brothers. High humidity is also needed for him to shed properly, so if he can't go hide out at sea, Levi's going to lock himself in his room and soak miserably in his bathtub.

Satan

Satan's self care routine isn't too difficult, but it's definitely the most time consuming and he absolutely hates it. He's not the most patient demon, especially when it comes to tasks that he thinks are wasting his time. When it's time for him to maintain his more demonic features, Satan needs to put aside an entire day for it.

Satan's horns are easy enough for him to handle. The inside part of the sharp curve of them often gives him some trouble, but he's nothing if not stubborn, so he usually manages to sort it out on his own. Horns on their own are rather time-consuming to care for, but what really takes up all of Satan's time is the multiple other horn-like protrusions along his body, as well as his tail. He's got boney spikes in the areas that his bones are closer to the skin (elbows, spine, ribs, jaw, etc.) and, like regular horns, they're constantly growing.

Whether he likes it or not, he always ends up needing to ask someone for help, and that someone usually ends up being Asmo. Not only is the process tedious, but he also has a very hard time reaching the spines on his back properly, so a helping hand is very useful.

Asmodeus

Unsurprisingly, Asmo has a very in depth routine that he follows to a t. Every week, he sets aside an evening to take care of his horns and wings specifically, sanding down his horns to keep them smooth and shiny, and moisturizing his wings with oils and lotions to keep the skin supple and soft. Being related to scorpions, Asmo also has a carapace in his true form that resembles the exoskeleton of actual scorpions. It doesn't need much extra care, but he always makes sure to keep it bright and polished.

The downside to his carapace is that it can't actually heal unless Asmo molts and completely replaces it. He's not the biggest fan of molting, but he'll force himself to molt early if he gets scratched or hurt in any way. He can't stand the thought of any part of him looking dull or banged up.

Overall, though, Asmo definitely has his self care handled perfectly. He's also very particular about how things are done, so he's very hesitant to let anyone else do it for him. He does, however, love helping his brothers out with grooming and self care. Especially the ones that he knows are likely to neglect themselves without a proper push.

Beelzebub

Beel's self care leaves much to be desired. He's completely horrible at taking care of his demonic attributes, but he often forgets about it or runs out of time. It's not uncommon for his horns to be rough and chipped or for his insect-like carapace to look dull and roughed up, especially with how aggressive his sports matches can get. Between school, working out, fangol and his constant hunger, regular upkeep gets put on the backburner.

Luckily, Beel and his twin often partake in allogrooming! They both find it easier to take care of each other, rather than themselves. This is especially helpful when it comes to Beel's horns. They curve so tightly along the sides of his head that he can't actually fit his hands between the horns and his skin to smooth them out. Belphie, on the other hand, has much smaller hands and can easily reach around and sand them down, while Beel takes care of him in turn. They rarely talk during these moments, but it serves as good bonding time for the two of them.

Beel's carapace is something he can handle himself, mostly because it doesn't really require anything. Like Asmo's, the only way for his carapace to "heal" is for him to molt and replace it, which he puts off for as long as possible. It's thick and hardy and since he doesn't put much stock in looking perfectly put together, he doesn't worry about it all that much. Whenever he does feel the need to molt, it goes by pretty quickly and he's back to his regular schedule in no time.

Belphegor

Belphie is honestly the worst at taking care of himself. Not because he doesn't care, but because he has such a hard time gathering up enough motivation to even get up in the mornings, much less put in the effort to look nice. If no one steps in, he can go days at a time without brushing just the hair on his head. Even on the days that he does that much, chances are that he didn't bother brushing the rest of his fur, too. After all, if he just doesn't show off his demon form, then no one will notice right?

Luckily for him, Beel does notice when his twin hasn't been caring for himself. While the rest of the brothers only need to worry about their demon forms every other week or even just once a month, Belphie needs to do it daily because of his coat. Without proper daily care, his hair gets oily and matted together very easily, which only makes it harder to deal with later. Beel knows that that's a lot to handle and often steps to brush out his twin's coat, even if he doesn't need any help in return. It's much easier for Belphie to feel motivated enough to help groom Beel than it is to care for himself, so their joint grooming helps them both.

On a similar note, Belphie has quite a bit of trouble with his horns and he constantly puts off taking care of them until they begin causing him physical discomfort. In the past, there's been a few times where he's let them grow a couple extra curls before they started weighing him down so much that he had to take care of it. With his twin's help, and a strictly imposed schedule, his horns haven't gotten that bad in ages, but they still tend to be rather rough most of the time. He also needs to sand down his hooves in a similar fashion. Normally, they'd be maintained just by walking on rough surfaces, but Belphie definitely doesn't walk around enough for that.

If Beel's not around to help out, Belphie has no qualms with playing the baby brother card and whining until one of the others agrees to help him. He's always willing to groom them in return, though, so he usually gets his way pretty easily.

[ninjnerd-anaklusmos]

Woo, first time not an anonymous ask, let's go

Looked through the fanfic question list

Sorry if it is too many, feel free to pick and choose if it is

6, 7, 8, 9, 25, 31, 33, 34

Have a great rest of your day!! ^-^ 💜

Congrats on that! Coming off of anon can be scary.

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?

That's a good one. Probably just mannerisms and building a space. I think I'm pretty good at it.

7. What element of writing do you struggle with the most?

Oof. Maybe ensuring that I don't leave out crucial details pertaining to the plot. My memory is a fishbowl lol.

8. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write?

Okay, fandom span for this one. We've got Leviathan and Belphegor from Obey Me. Then we've got Jay, Cole, and Kai from Lego Ninjago. And, of course, Donatello, Leonardo, and Raphael from Rise of the TMNT!

9. Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write?

RIP to me. Lucifer, Mammon, and Beelzebub from Obey Me. Wu, Pixal, and Nya from Lego Ninjago. And finally, Michelangelo, April, and Cassandra from Rise of the TMNT.

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

That's an easy answer. Yes! Giant yes! I think the main one would be the AUs I've though of but never written down solidly. But to answer the question, in one of my fics in OFIFotO, Luke is wandering through the haunted memory/trauma cave.

I had a thought about having him end up in Reaper territory and having an entire little side quest, but it didn't fit into the plot I constructed.

31. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

Oh my gosh I have so many. Like, a ridiculous number of them. I'll tell you about two of them though, just to save some space lmao.

Ji'kan: a 1,500 hundred year old demon, specifically a demon of curses. His hair is purple with lavender highlights and his eyes are the deepest blue.

His demon form is as follows: Jet-black scales curling up to his biceps & thighs. Short, jagged claws on both his hands and feet. Thin, dainty horns. Hair turns slightly translucent, very snake-like and streamlined, eyes glow. His skin glows with teal lightning that he controls in bright flashes at different rates.

He's from an original story idea about demons and angels that, ironically, I came up with a couple months before falling down the Obey Me rabbit hole.

In the story, he's on the demonic council, but just barely. He dreams of running a seamstress type business, and he has issues with closeness and sudden touch.

Then we've got another guy from the same universe and story.

Wren: a roughly 3,000 year old angel, specifically a Virtue. His hair is a mixture of white, silver, and gray, and his eyes are pale gray in color.

His angelic form is as follows: wingless, usually dressed in white silks. He only has his two eyes, but they glow with an ethereal power.

In the story, he's sent as a delegate to the world of demons during a council meeting, and he ends up getting lost. Ji'kan ends up saving his life.

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing process?

I fluctuate wildly between writing a 10k fic in two hours or it taking two months. You might have already guessed that from my sporadic ao3 posts, but still. I love writing, but I have a very busy life that derails my attention from whatever I want to write.

I also can't write without tunes.

34. Copy and paste an excerpt your especially fond of.

Ooh!

This one's from my fic, I Will Only Let You Down. It's a Ninjago fic, but this scene just makes me so happy. I love it.

The crackle that grew louder the longer he sat there wasn't falling on deaf ears, and he assumed it to be his little wisps of flame, gossiping about their master's odd behavior. Fire didn't blame them, not one bit. If he thought he was being odd, surely they must have thought he had lost his mind.

After another breath, he opened his eyes, unsurprised to find a clump of little fire wisps, all piled atop one another, rolling and chattering in crackles and sparks. He offered them a small smile, opening his arms. "Come here, I know you want to."

The pile of wisps jumped into action, at least a dozen little flames flying around him and snuggling against him, continuously chattering and nuzzling him. Fire laughed, stroking each and every one, giving them physical reassurance that he was okay.

They were adorable, honestly, and a great mood booster. He needed that pick me up after his dream. Getting to his feet, Fire rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, letting his wisps dance and cheer around him.

Curious, he nudged one of them with his pointer finger. "Is there something you need me for?"

The wisps swirled in delight, and all at once the dozen flames dashed away, burning down the halls and leaving Fire to chase after them. He rolled his eyes, but followed anyway, eager to see what they needed. The wisps had been nothing but helpful so far, and he could only assume they would continue to be.

The wisps burst into sparks in front of his temple's entry way, exploding in colorful swaths of reds and oranges, shooting off into different directions. All but the little wisp that had comforted him earlier, before his nap.

It hovered in front of the closed doors, looking almost sheepish. Fire snorted, poking it gently, making it crackle rhythmically, like it was laughing. "Go catch up, flare."

The wisp brightened, twirling around his fingers before it dashed away, leaving a streak of yellow after it. Hm. Maybe it liked being called flare.