#spiked armband

[theflawless-art-gallery]

Another OC art for @PB_NSFW

[mintspider]

"You've got quite the mouth on you, someone should teach you what to do with it"

"Trust me, I've had no complaints with what I do with this mouth"

Reikos diamond eyes dialated as he stared at Tigue with an expression that to her, read as two things; he wanted to fight her or fuck her, a sliver thin line between the two.

(She's standing on something because if I did their actual height difference you can only see the her head 😅)

Reiko image credit to @chaosrealm

[pepprs]

all my attacks for art fight 2023!!! team werewolves ftw 🐺🎨✨

[tvitr]

Grusha wears black nail polish and eyeliner pass it on.

[eyesxxyou]

Backstage show

★🎸 {} .. hobie brown x groupie!reader

rating. m

word count. 5k

synopsis. you finally get to meet your favorite band and the lead vocalist takes a liking to you. He decides he shouldn't keep such a beauty to himself.

or

hobie fucks you in front of his bandmates

🍒・．❕warnings. exhibitionalism (sex in front of bandmates), p in v sex, unprotected sex not advised, clothed sex, oral (m receiving) drinking, smoking, save a horse ride a cowboy, public sex, hobie has a bit of a god complex, y/n is a group who'd do anything for her idol, bit of a power dynamic fr, this is a bit toxic but gets sweet at the end y'all so hold on

Backstage Show pt.2

This was your dream. Ever since coming across a small underground punk rock band, The Mary Janes, you've dreamed of attending one of their concerts. Now you were here, your body pressed up against the side of the stage of the small venue, so close to your idols you thought you might faint. Your body was clad in leather, from your skin-tight skirt to the oversized jacket you had draped over your shoulders. Your shirt was torn, black, lacy bra exposed, a beg for attention really.

All of the members of the band were attractive and all had their individual groupies but by far the fan favorite was Hobie-fucking-Brown. Lead singer and bass guitarist. A tall, lean fellow with the most beautiful voice you've ever heard in your life. He was a charmer, a flirt, known for giving the occasion groupie a chance and the night of their life or dating one from time to time.

Your hands grabbed at the edge of the stage as the lights dimmed and everyone in the building began to scream including you. It grew even louder when the band came on stage, the girl next to you was screaming her head off, hoping to grab the attention of Hobie as the thick soles of his boots made the very stage vibrate under your hands.

You stopped screaming when you saw him. Your breath simply stolen away from you but you supposed that might just be the people behind you pressing as they tried to get as close to Hobie as possible. He was breathtaking. All his features were so sharp, from his cheekbones to his liner-framed eyes. You liked the lean muscle of his body, the way his spiked armband pressed into the muscle, how his torn up, sleeveless crop top revealed the valley of his abs and low-waisted pants revealed his happy trail.

You obsessed over the way he smirked at the crowd and sent them absolutely buck wild. He grabbed his microphone and adjusted it, raising it to his height so he could speak into it comfortably. "'Ow's er'ryone doin' t'night?" His accent is thick but not aggressive to the ears nor incoherent. The crowd goes absolutely wild including you, you scream until your voice is raw, hoping that maybe those pretty eyes of his will land on you.

"Er'ryone lookin' good t'night." His eyes scan over the crowd, making their way back to front, side to side. Then Hobie’s eyes landed on you, in all your fishnet, leather, and spiked collar glory. He paused for a moment, his tongue dragging across his pierced lips before the corner curled into a smirk. “Some lookin’ real good.”

And from then on, he had his attention on you. Sure, he certainly had everyone in the room on a leash and the few people in the front were able to hold hands with him for a few milliseconds and get a few acknowledging glances. But he made it clear that you were the one on his mind. He bent down and caressed your face with his silver decorated fingers while singing before moving on.

You grabbed your polaroid camera you had hanging off your side like a bag, using it to snap pictures of what you could only describe as the best day of your life. Everytime Hobie neared, another picture was taken and printed out on the spot. You barely let them develop before placing them in your bag.

Hobie noticed this and came back to you, sitting down with his legs hanging off the edge of the stage, pressed against your chest. “You havin’ a good time, luv?” He asked as his band began to play the intro to the next song. You were so mesmerized, so starstruck, that you couldn’t even formulate words. You didn’t trust yourself to speak because you knew if you tried, you’d say something stupid like you’re in love with him, you’d do anything for him. So you nod like you’re completely braindead, fawning over him. 

“Might I see ya camera?” He pointed to the device in your hand and immediately, you handed it to him without thought. You melt when he grabs you by the back of the head and pulls you in. Hobie kissed you, his tongue pressed against the seam of your lips. It was a moment you never thought would ever happen to you. His lips were on yours and you knew this was your chance.

You kissed him back and let him slip his tongue past your lips. His tongue pressed against yours, a little ball piercing meeting the soft flesh of your tongue. With a little bit more confidence, you grabbed his shirt, slid your hands up his collared neck, felt his skin because you might never get to have this chance again.

He took this chance to snap a picture of the two of you kissing, letting it print out as he placed it back between your hands.

“Hobie! Stop fuckin’ around an get up here, mate!” His drummer called from across the stage with a hint of impatience. Hobie broke away from you with an annoyed sigh as he glanced back over his shoulder for just a moment. When he looked back at you, he offered one of his pearly white smiles. “You min’ stickin’ around aft’a the show fa me, luv?”

You nod, still not trusting yourself to say the right words just yet. Hobie pecks your lips, a goodbye kiss with the promise to see you again soon, before he stands and grabs ahold of his guitar to finish the show. You swore, if you weren’t in love before, you definitely are now. You were in love with the way he drew all attention to himself without even trying, so confident because he had nothing to prove. Undeniably sexy in every single way,

So once the show came to a close and the crowd slowly dispersed across the venue, most finding themselves at the bar for a drink. At first, you had no idea where Hobie was. The place was absolutely packed and the thought of anyone being able to take a single step without bumping into someone else was laughable. But it soon became clear when people began flocking in one direction, girls screaming out his name as he came around, asking for autographs on any part of their body they had to offer and he was happy to oblige. He went around signing people’s chests just above their tits and the bottom of their backs like his name was their tramp stamp.

He saw you between the swaths of people and smiled, wading himself between people to get to you. “There ya are, luv. Been lookin’ fa you.” Hobie tossed an arm over your shoulders and pulled you into the side of his body. He smelled of sweat and the musk of his cologne and you thought you might just cum from the smell alone. You looked up at his towering stature as he greeted other fans. His jawline was sharp, adam’s apple prominent in his throat, his lips thick and kissable.

Hobie looked back down at you. “You wanna go backstage wit’ me and my mates?” A long, slender finger came and wrapped around a single one of your braids. He was so charming, so easily able to persuade those around him to listen to him. He made those around him feel like they’ve known him for years, like you’ve spent your whole life together. 

Finally, you were confident enough to stop acting like you didn’t have a lick of intelligence. You slid your arm around his waist to return the same kindness of intimate closeness. “Of course.”

Hobie raised his pierced brows in slight surprise. “So you speak.” He teased you lightly, placing his hand on top of yours as you held his waist and pulled you closer. He began to lead you towards a door that led to backstage.”Wha’s ya name, doll?” He leaned in to you so he could hear you better as you say, “Y/N.”

He hummed softly. “Suits you. Pretty name fo a pretty girl.” He kicked open the door so he didn’t have to let do of you. He kicked the door closed behind him, making sure it was closed al the way before bringing you around a few short, winding halls until you reached their little hangout spot. All three others of his band were already lounging about, feet kicked up, with some bottles of whiskey and a joint being passed between them. The room smelled heavily of weed and booze but the aggressiveness of it didn’t bother you. You’ve spent your entire life in environments like this.

“Yo er’ryone, this is Y/N.” Hobie introduced you, finally letting you go once you were in an environment he was more comfortable in. They all nodded and greeted you cooly, probably already high. They were all friendly, complimenting you on your outfit or telling you they thought you were pretty in a way that didn’t make you feel uncomfortable while Hobie went to sit down in a dingy recliner next to a messy coffee table.

“Com’ere, pretty girl.” Hobie motioned you over to him and without hesitation you came, placing your things down on the table. He grabbed a bottle of liquor from the table and took a large swing of it as he grabbed your hand gently and pulled you into his lap. His hand was on your thigh, fingers slipping beneath the webbing of your fishnets. God, he was so sexy looking up at you like that. The way he gripped your thigh already had you growing wet at the thought of his fingers sliding beneath your skirt.

“Gotta be ‘bout the prettiest girl I done ever seen. Right boys?” He doesn’t look over the side of his recliner at them, just takes another swing of his bottle while staring up at you with eyes telling you exactly what he’s imagining now. You’re imagining the exact same.

They all agree with various sounds of approval, knowing not to tread too much on Hobie's obviously marked territory.

You shift in his lap, the wetness between your thighs growing evermore uncomfortable. Hobie leans forward and begins kissing along the side of your neck, his hand still possessively gripping your thigh. His lips graze your supple skin so lightly it sends shivers through every nerve in your body. "Hobie."

"This can stop. You just say the word." He made sure to let you know that you had no obligation to do anything with him. You appreciated the gesture but you would do anything short of murder for him. This was a moment you've been dreaming of for so long, you were scared that this very moment right here was a figment of your delusional imagination and you'd be waking up in your bed any second now.

But his lips kissing you was very real, his hand stroking your hip now was the realest thing in your world right now.

“You wanna drink, luv?” Hobie asked you, shaking the bottle in front of you. You were never much of a drinker but you didn’t mind a few sips here and there and you were sure you’d need some liquid courage for a moment like this. You reached out for the bottle but Hobie quickly pulled it out of your range and clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Lemme do it. Get on ya knees fa me, doll.”

You don’t even think about refusing. Not an ounce of hesitation plagues you as you slide off of his lap and onto the floor in front of him. You get on your knees, leaning forward, back arched as you positioned yourself between Hobie’s legs. You thought you were probably flashing your panties to his bandmates but you didn’t care. How could you when Hobie drabbed your chin with those beautiful fingers of his, nails painted a solid black. “Open ya mouf.”

You do so. You part your lips and let your jaw hang open as he tips the bottle against your lips and lets the bitter liquid pour down your throat. He’s sure not to give you too much so you won’t choke. You close your mouth and swallow, looking up at Hobie through hooded eyes and long lashes.

“Go’ myself a good girl, didn’t I?” Hobie pet your head as you placed it on his thigh much like a pet who worships their owner. “You’d do anythin’ fo me, wouldn’t you?” He asks because he knows that you’ll undoubtedly say yes. You love the way he pushes your hair out of your face to get a better view of you as you look up at him like he’s more than just a man.

‘You’d do anything for your god too, wouldn’t you?” You ask him, making it very clear how you saw him and that there was very little you wouldn’t do for him. He was your god, your religion, your everything. You were a devout disciple, on your knees ready to worship.

Hobie smiled at your words. He liked you, knew from the moment he saw you that you’d be entirely worth his while. “Why don’t you show me how much you love ya god then.” He relaxed into his chair, slouching as he took another sip. His hand was in your hair, pulling you closer to the growing bulge in his pants. “Would you like to be the sta’ fo a bit, put on a lil’ show fo the rest of us?”

You glance behind you at his bandmates, all of them staring at you, waiting to see where this would all go. When you look back, Hobie’s staring at you with a raise brow. A question. Do you wanna? I won’t make you, luv. You drag your tongue over your lips, wiped clean of your lipgloss from his kiss earlier. You bit your lip and reached towards his belt to undo it. How could you turn down a moment like this? The thought of them all sitting there watching as you suck off their leader made your pussy tremble. You’ve always played with the idea of people watching. Tonight had to be a dream.

You undid the buckle of his belt and pulled it from its slot before moving into his pants. Hobie assured you to take your time as you reached into his pants and pulled him out of his restraints. He was already half hard in your hand, weighing heavy against your palm as blood rushed into the appendage.

You wet your lips again as you began to stroke him. Your delicate fingers wrapping around and pulling at the smooth, satin skin of his cock. He had to have the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen, nice, long, and veiny with a Prince Albert’s piercing sitting pretty and shiny at the tip of his cock. You salivated at the sight of it as it grew harder in your hand. You bite your lip and glance up at Hobie who’s already smiling at you. “Like what ya see?” You love what you see, wanted him to shove it down your throat.

Hobie takes over for you, grabs his cock and jerks it a little harder. Little beads of pearly precum dripped from his slit and rolled down the underside of his cock before meeting his hand. He takes his time, staring at you and that pretty face of yours that caught his attention in the beginning.

He tapped his length against your cheeks in a way that was almost degrading but you leaned into it, stared into his eyes as his bottom lip caught on his teeth. You let him smear his precum across your plush lips before parting them to let him drack his tip against your tongue.

“Got yourself a proper lil’ slut, didn’t you Hobes?” One of the other band members chuckle as you part your lips further and stick out your tongue. The others laugh with him including Hobie who takes up your hair in a makeshift ponytail and presses your head down, sliding his cock into your mouth as far as you could take him. “Gotta nice lil’ wet patch on ‘er panties.”

You found a guilty pleasure in the way they talked about you like you weren’t even there, an object of pleasure. Hobie used your mouth as his own personal toy, controlling the way your head moved up and down his cock, pressing to your limit, until you’re gagging and choking on him. He slapped your cheek lightly. “Eyes up here sweet’art.” You look up at him, eyes swelling with tears each time his length slid down your throat and triggered your gag reflex.

His head hell back against the cushion of his chair as he moaned lowly, “Relax tha’ throa’, doll.” His eyes never left yours no matter how good that pretty little mouth of yours made him feel. Hobie let his own mouth fall open as you took him in down to the hilt, your nose pressed to his pelvis. “Gooood fuckin’ girl.” He holds your right where you are, watching with a sadistic smile as you gagged. Your hands gripped his thighs to brace yourself, tears streaking your cheeks.

Hobie let you go after a few seconds and you fall back, panting for air with your lips slicked with saliva. The moment you caught your breath, you had your lips wrapped around him again, bobbing your head with an eagerness to please, to put on that show he was talking about. You are your back more, the outline of your pussy revealed behind your panties for his bandmates to gaze at.

“Keep goin’ jus’ like tha’.” Hobie was practically falling apart beneath you, his breathing hitching and his eyes barely open while he watched you take him down like a champ. “Fuck…ya killin’ me, doll.” His voice was breathy yet tireless and came out like a low rumble that only made you wetter. “Drivin’ me fuckin’ mad.”

But Hobie wasn’t ready to cum just yet as pretty as you’d look swallowing his cum. “Get on up fo me.” He pulled you back by your hair and you released him with a sticky pop of your lips. He made you to stand up between his knees and held you by the waist, his hands so large it made you seem small by comparison.

“Le’s put on a real performance.” He whispered to you with a smile that could only be described as devious. His hands were suddenly hiking up your tight little skirt to circle your waist, fingers between the netting of your stockings, tearing them open enough to create a whole right at your cunt. “Turn ‘round.” And you did, following every movement of his hands as they positioned your body. Until you were sitting on Hobie’s lap with your legs spread, feet on the armrests of his chair, panties pulled to the side so everything you held so dear was on display for his bandmates to oogle at.

Hobie wrapped an arm around your waist and used his free hand to slide his saliva-soaked cock between the equally soaked lips of your puffy little pussy that’s been screaming and begging to be fucked. You tremble as his piercing dragged across your sensitive little clit. “Already nice and wet. Din’t even needa touch ya.” He chuckled into the shell of your ear before kitten-licking it.

It was easy to slip in, hardly an resistance at all. You whimpered at the way he could so easily push that thick cock of his into you, at how he stretched your walls. You turned your face in some feeble attempt to hide yourself from the prying eyes of the men sitting on the couch across from you. They all watched intently, something predatory sparkling in their eyes at the sight of you.

“Uhn-uh, luv.” Hobie hissed out as he bucked his hips up into your little cunt that so eagerly accepted him. “Look at ‘em. Look at wha’ you’re doin’ to ‘em.” You turn your head to glance and find them all palming themselves through their pants. Shameful and embarrassed, you hide your face again and attempt to close your legs but before you can, Hobie’s are already pinning them apart, keeping you just how you are.

“Start bouncin’ then.” Hobie forces you to move your hips, rocking them against his cock as your greedy little pussy takes in more of him. He slaps your exposed pussy red and raw when you take too long to move, leaving you sensitive and teary-eyed. “I said start bouncin’, or are you stupid now?” His voice bites a little with a command but just between the two of you in a hushed whisper, “Jus’ tell me to stop if you don’ wanna go on, sweet’art.”

You shake his head at your offer, bracing yourself as you begin to flex your thighs and lift yourself up before dropping right back down on his cock. You let out a broken little moan as he plunges back in, the curve of his length pressing into your walls just right. That wonderful piercing of his only amplifies the pleasure. “Hobie~” You whine his name as he soothes his the rough pads of his fingers against your aching clit as a reward. “Keep goin’.”

You ride like your very life depends on it, crying out his name like he might be your only chance at salvation. You don’t care that your thighs are burning as you push them to their limits. You’re cock-hungry and everyone in the room knows it. The sound of your creamy, wet pussy being fucked and your whiny moans mingle with Hobie’s deep, guttaral ones. He hisses out his words like he’s barely holding on to sanity. “Bes’ fuckin cunt ‘ve had in a long time.”

And when you simply couldn’t keep going as you were, your legs exhausted from carrying up and down and back up again, Hobie grabbed you, held you up, and fucked you just like that. The way he fucked you was borderline cruel, abusive even. He bullied his cock into your pussy and played with your clit like the strings of his guitar, leaving you so wet that your thighs were slick with it. Skin clapped against skin, your faces’ shimmering with sweat.

“Pull up ya shirt… let’ em see your tits.” Hobie let out between breathless pants. You did just that, pulling up your shirt enough to let your breast free. They bounced with his harsh thrusts, the peaks of your nipples pebbling at the cold air coming in contact with them. You could tell they were all trying to restrain themselves, swallowing harshly at the sight of your near defiled body.

“H-Hobie…I’m– cumming!” You could feel it falling upon you much like a tsunami. It seized your body and held you, drowned you. Your pussy clamped down around him and trembled with it as Hobie played with your pussy and dragged you through it. It had no mercy on you, left you feeling dizzy and your mind foggy. Your back arched, muscles twitching against your will, and your pussy left white streaks of cream against his cock.

Hobie wasn’t done with you though. “Turn ‘round, doll.” You hardly even removed yourself from his cock as you turned around on his cock, now facing him. Instinctively, you began to ride him, your hands grasping his shirt for leverage as he leaned back and enjoyed the show for himself. 

“Lookin’ all pretty and fucked out, aren’t ya luv?” He reached across you towards the table for a joint. He placed it between his lips and grabbed a lighter to light it, still watching you as he took his first drag and tossed the lighter to the side. He loved the way your tits bounced in his face, the way there wasn’t a single thought in that pretty, empty head of yours. Like his mates said, a proper slut for him.

He blew the smoke into your face and slapped your ass before grabbing your waist. “Should keep ya ‘round. Nice way to relax after a show, yeah men?” Hobie looked at his mates already rubbing one out themselves, too sexually frustrated not to do anything. He took another drag and let out the smoke in a breathy moan. “Fuckin’ me up here, doll.” He gritted out while grinding his hips into you. “Migh’ haveta keep ya ‘round. Can’t get good pussy like this nowhere else.”

Hobie pulled you in to kiss you, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. You could still taste the remainder of your cherry lipgloss mingling with the alcohol and weed in his breath. You wondered if it was possible to sew two people’s lips together because you never wanted to stop kissing him ever again.

He began to smile into your kiss, a wicked idea coming to mind. “Lemme give you a autograph, luv. Get up and get on ya knees again.” You didn’t understand at first until you felt his cock twitch with the telltale signs of an orgasm on the horizon. So you got up, a string of cum leaving you two connected before breaking. You got on your knees again.

“Gotta nice pair o’ tits there.” Hobie wrapped his ringed fingers around his length and began violently jerking himself. You look at him, slick lips parting to speak. “Can you sign them for me?” You ask like one of his fangirls only hoping to get a moment like this one.

He held his joint between his fingers and sat up a bit more as his stomach tightened, abs revealing themselves even more. “How can I refuse a fan?” His brows furrowed with concentration as you push your chest forward in front of him, pressing them together with your hands.

Then his face relaxed all at once, his lips falling open with a single moan as he came. His cum came out in ribbons of white, landing on your chest in intervals as he twitched. Hobie was the prettiest when he came, every muscle in his face relaxing except his brows that seem to tense. You like how he coated your chest, how his cum rolled between the valley of your breasts as down your naval.

You felt owned now, possessed, marked. And you swore you’d never be able to have sex with another man again after tonight. You watched Hobie in utter admiration as he placed his joint back between his lips and reached back to the table to grab your camera. He snapped a picture of you. Your defiled body, your owned body, immortalized in a picture.

Hobie grabbed the picture as it printed out and waved it about through the air until it developed then placed it down on the table. “Come on, less get you cleaned up, doll.” He made himself decent before helping you up onto your shaky feet. He glanced at his mates as you two passed them, them all still wanking off, and he scoffed. “Pervs.”

“Fuck you, Hobes!”

He took you to the bathroom, used some wet paper towels to clean his come from your body and fix up your outfit as best as he could. “Sorry ‘bout the stockin’s, luv. I’ll buy ya new ones.” You didn’t expect him to be so sweet, no one has ever cleaned you up afterwards. Your face was hot as you looked at him. “Can I… have a second?” You asked softly.

“Yeah, ‘course.” Hobie shrugged, leaned down and kissed your cheek right at the corner of your lips. He offered a sly smile before leaving you to yourself to go back and joins his friends. You could hear him behind the door, “Could you wankas put ya…well…wankas away?”

You turn on the faucet and splash your face with cold water. You tell yourself that this isn’t real. You tell yourself you didn’t just have the best sex of your life with your idol. The more you splash your face, trying to wake yourself from thai dream that can only end in disappointment, the more you realize this isn’t some pathetic figment of your imagination.

When you come out of the bathroom, everyone’s hanging around. Hobie’s back in his chair with his joint and the polaroid he took in between his fingers. Your things were in his lap meaning you’d have to go to him to grab them.

He stands for you, putting out his joint in the ashtray much to the dismay of the others. He takes your things and brings them to you. “There ya go, sweet’art.” Your fingers brush when you grab them from him and he gives you the picture too. His eyes sparkle as he looks at you. “Hope to see you at our next gig.”

You think he must say that to all the fangirls he hooks up with. You’re nothing special you tell yourself. You glance at the other members wearily. “It was nice meeting you all.”

“You too, darlin’.” They’re all sweet despite watching you get fucked by their friend and jerking off to it. Do they do that kind of stuff often? Was this not an uncommon occurrence for them?

You’re almost humiliated as you leave, stalking towards the nearest exit to take a cab home. You look at the polaroid of yourself, on your knees with cum on your chest. You rub your thumb over it and when you shift it into your other hand to put it in your bag, you see ink smeared on your fingers.

Your brows furrowed and you flipped the photo to find a number scribbled down on the back. Your fingers smeared the ink but not enough to make it incomprehensible. All the numbers were clearly readable, carefully placed like he wanted to ensure you’d be able to read it.

You almost had a heart attack right then and there. There was absolutely no way he was just giving out his number to anyone who came across his path. This meant you were special, something out of his ordinary. You squealed, jumping right there on the cracked sidewalk, gaining the attention of those around you.

Holy Shit.

[droopycoquette]

Rest, My Love || Izogie x Fem!reader

Summary:  Izogie needs to be pampered after a long day

Warnings:  requested, fluff, suggestive content, black!reader

Word Count: 1.3k

A/n: This was requested by @szalipcombo

|*|

You could feel her muscles move under you as you rubbed and pulled at her skin, kneading the knots away from her muscles. Her groans and soft whimpers filled your room and your ears, making your heart soar at the thought of pleasing your lover. You could make out every tick, flinch, and quiver her torso made under your thighs. You felt her muscles ripple as you massaged her shoulders. Their tenseness always amazed you, you could rub them for hours today and your love would still come back in knots tomorrow. 

Her head rested in her arms as she lay on her stomach with you straddling her back. Her intricate braids hypnotized you as her skin slipped and rubbed against your hands with the help of the yangu oil.

“There is one trainee that stands out. All of the new ones are good, strong. But, her? She is different,” she explained, hints of a groan making its way into her tone. 

“Hmm,” you acknowledged, not paying attention to what she was saying, too lost in your own world. 

Your mind was far off in the distance, thinking of how Izogie puts her muscles to work. Small moments playing in your mental theatre. Like when she lifted you on her shoulders to reach the mangos on the top shelf, or when you asked her to fill up a water jug by the river and she came back with two in each arm. You stopped yourself from clenching your thighs, the sight of your lover smirking up at you was not one you wanted to see tonight. The gloating she would do for the rest of the week would drive you insane. 

“I call her Tse-tse,” she informed you proudly, head shifting to look to the right. 

“Tse-tse,” you repeated, the name making you laugh. “What did she do to earn that title?”

Her deep voice made your soul happy. Little did you know that your little giggle made her soul happy. It was a sound she didn’t get to hear often, especially with the recent spike in Oyo attacks on villages. 

“She constantly undermines us,” Igozie continued to complain. “Today she placed gunpowder in the solider’s heads. They exploded the moment we sliced through them.” 

You chuckled as your thumbs circled under her shoulder blades, her back rippling, reacting to your touch. You gazed upon her armbands, the material straining to hold her muscled arms. The oil continuing to leave a honey-like glaze on her skin.

“She sounds a lot like you,” you giggled in endearment, leaning down to kiss her right shoulder. 

“Like me,” she screeched. 

“Yes,” you giggled more. “Look at it this way, my love.”

She went silent and you could visualize her eyebrow rising as her gaze became judgmental. You could picture her crossing her arms and staring down at you, effectively intimidating you. 

“Well, I’m listening,” she mocked, eyes straining to see a glimpse of you. 

“Remember when you were a trainee? How many times did the Meganon take your sword? How many times did you question her?”

Izogie was silent, knowing the answer. 

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” she huffed. “Why are you against me in this.”

You rolled your eyes and continued to dig the heel of your palm into the nape of her neck. Her skin was silky from the constant oils and moisture placed on her skin but littered with bumps and ridges from the scars she wore with pride. A symbol of her dedication and love for her people. 

“Be on my side,” she whined, the whiskey she drank earlier showing its effects. 

“Remember the saying what goes around comes around, I believe that’s how the Europeans say it,” you started. “Well, I suppose this is payback for giving Meganon such a hard ti-”

Your sentence ended with a high-pitched squeal as Izogie flipped over, you now straddled her waist, facing her. Her hands naturally found your waist and you shivered as she ran the sharp of her nails up and down the sides of your torso. 

“Do you remember what I say,” she questioned as she sat up, crossing her legs under you

Her chest rose and fell against yours while her eyes were dead set on you. A look of strictness and love mixed in her irises as her hands moved to squeeze your waist.  You held your breath as she leaned into your left ear.

“Always obey Izogie,” she whispered, hands coming up to caress your upper back before kissing your neck. “Hmm. And I believe I said take my side.”

“I always obey,” you whispered, barely audible, your thighs now clenching around her waist.

Your heads now rested on each other's shoulders. Your breath was calming and tranquil, something unusual for Izogie, it felt foreign to her. To feel such peace. She had become so used to the heavy breathing of running and fighting that now, just sitting and breathing slowly, was something that felt strange. 

“I love you,” you whispered. “I always fear for you when you leave the palace walls. When you leave Dahomey for Ouidah. It is hard to sleep, knowing that your love might not return to you.”

Izogie didn’t respond, choosing to nuzzle deeper into your neck, placing wet kisses everywhere she could. 

“I know what you do is good,” you continued, rubbing her back. “But, I hear stories about the infantrymen’s wives. I see how they grieve when their husbands die.”

She continued to stay silent, basking in the feel of your skin on hers. However, you could sense her breathing get shaky as her grip on you tightened. 

“Listen to me,” she began, lifting her head from your neck and bringing her hands to cage your face sweetly. “Look at me. I can’t promise that I’ll come back.”

Your heart began beating faster, her eyes still had a strictness in them now mixed with compassion and love. Your hands found her wrists and wrapped around them softly. 

“What I can promise is that when I’m fighting, I fight for you. For your safety, to come back to you.”

Her hands stayed where they were, thumbs now rubbing your cheeks. Her eyes searched for understanding in yours, eyebrows furrowing in a desire to see her lover be on the same page as her. 

“I love you,” she stated strongly, ”And I love the Agojie. I love being able to protect you from everything that wishes to harm you. I love being able to come home, knowing that I did everything in my power to keep you safe. I just want to keep you safe.”

You glanced up at her through your eyelashes. You gazed at her eyes as you saw the emotion that swirled in them. Bringing your hand to grab her left wrist, you put her palm to your lips, planting a small kiss on her hand. 

“I know, my love,” you agreed. “I just want you to be happy, and cared for. I know the trainees are a lot but please come to me before it gets to be too much instead of at your breaking point.”

“It’s not the trainees, my treasure. It's the Oyo, it's the Europeans, it's everyone. Everyone wishes for Dohomey’s end,” Izogie let out, forehead falling back on your shoulder.

You brought your hand to her hair, scratching and massaging her scalp. She groaned into your shoulder at the satisfaction she felt at your nails. Her thumbs on your upper back rubbed against your shoulder blades. 

“I just wish everything would stop for us,” she continued, her eyes drooping down.

“Come with me, precious,” you smiled softly. “Lay here with me.”

You laid down first and opened your arms for her. As Izogie lowered herself down, you got a peak at her muscles once more, working to support her. They rippled, tensed, and relaxed when she placed her head on your shoulder, snuggling into you. 

“Everything is stopping for us now,” you whispered. “Just sleep and rest, my love.”

|*|

A/n: Please leave me some feedback <3 constructive criticism is welcomed

[stingynugget]

Lost Kingdom Bowuigi Prompt

An idea I had for Bowuigi, though I'm not sure how to flesh it out (so any ideas are welcome lol):

Luigi is in the Lost Kingdom from Mario Odyssey, looking for a balloon his brother hid. He gets caught in an acid rain storm, so he goes to a cave to hide... only to find Bowser already there. However, Bowser is acting strange. He won't open his eyes, and he doesn't get up when he hears Luigi enter the cave. (Maybe somehow a poison film covered his eyes, and one of his legs got dipped in a poison pool and got eaten down to the bone.) Cue injured Bowser x Luigi story, but one where Bowser doesn't recognize Luigi for either a while or until he's healed and is at the Mushroom Kingdom for a party. Could have some Cinderella/Little Mermaid elements as Bowser looks for the man who saved his life, but he has no idea what he looks like.

I started this idea off, but I lost motivation haha:

Luigi pushed aside a particularly dense area of vegetation and breathed in the earthy scent of the Lost Kingdom. Tropical trees and plants surrounded him, along with stretchy wigglers and klepto birds. He was looking for a hidden balloon, as part of a hide-and-seek game between him and his older brother Mario. 

His compass, which told him what direction the balloon was, pointed down into a nearby pool of poison. He’d been trying to figure out if Mario actually hid the balloon in the poison or some nearby location for the past hour, but he still couldn’t find it.

To make matters worse, clouds were starting to form overhead. The Lost Kingdom was notorious for its horrifying poisonous rain. 

Luigi sighed. Did he just give up and try again tomorrow? But Mario was already at Blue Balloon rank, and Luigi was still stuck at Yellow Balloon. He needed to catch up soon, before he lost the month-long game altogether.

He felt a sizzling pain on his arm. Crying out, Luigi looked up to see the rain had already started to fall. Luigi frantically looked around, until he spotted a path that he knew led to a large, dry cave. He made a dash for it.

As he rounded the corner, the cave came into view. However, the last being he expected to see was sleeping there: the King of the Koopas himself. 

Bowser deeply snored, his head resting on his arms as he curled up in the cave. His spiky shell nearly touched the top of the cave, though the cave was deep enough for the rest of his body. He wore his usual spiked armbands and choker.

Luigi froze. He glanced behind him, at the sprinkle of acid rain that was now a downpour, and back at Bowser. Maybe… he could just sneak in quietly, and Bowser wouldn’t even know he was there. Just until the rain stopped.

Luigi took a small step forward and immediately tripped on a protruding rock. The sound of his shoe scuffling and his body thumping on the ground resounded throughout the cave. 

Bowser stirred and sniffed the air. “Who’s there?” he growled. 

Luigi’s heart hammered in his chest. He tried taking a small step backwards, but he didn’t get far without nearly getting poison on him. Right. The whole reason he was in this cave was to get out of the rain. But now he was stuck with Bowser. Which option was worse?

Bowser chuckled lowly. “I know you’re there. I can smell the sweat on you.” His eyes remained closed, which Luigi thought was strange.

Luigi squeezed his hands and desperately tried not to panic. But he was panicking. What should he do? Say “hello” to the Mushroom Kingdom’s biggest problem? Or just wait it out? More sweat dripped from under his hat and onto the tip of his round nose.

“You have three seconds to say something before I fry you.”

Luigi gulped. “Um!” His mouth chattered. “S-sorry to bother you. I was trying to g-get out of the r-rain.” He waited for the inevitable plume of flame that would be headed his way.

Bowser smiled. “There. Was that so hard?”

Luigi blinked in surprise. What was Bowser playing at? And why was he keeping his eyes shut? Did he just want to go back to sleep? Because Luigi would really like that.

“I w-won’t be a b-bother,” Luigi said. “Once the rain stops, I’ll be out of your hair.” Red hair, to be specific.

Bowser hummed. “Or… I throw you into the rain right now.”

“W-what!?” 

Bowser chuckled darkly. He didn’t move from his spot, though. “In exchange for letting you stay here, you will become my servant. Being an underling of the King of the Koopas is quite the honor.”

“B-but—”

“Just until I’m out of this awful kingdom. Though, if you do well, I’m actually recruiting right now. Lost a lot of minions from my last escapade. That's why I’m here in the first place.”

Luigi had a feeling that by “last escapade,” Bowser meant the last time he tried to kidnap Princess Peach. Mario and Bowser had a huge battle in the Moon Kingdom, with Mario winning of course. Luigi was just glad Mario hadn’t dragged him on this adventure. Flying in The Odyssey sounded like a nightmare, especially since he had acrophobia.

And wait, Luigi thought about the other thing Bowser said. “You… want me to join your team?”

“Were you even listening? That’s if you serve me well.”

Luigi frowned. He studied Bowser, who was still curled up on the floor of the cave. Bowser’s eyes, now that he looked at them closer, seemed to have a thin purple film covering them. 

Luigi tiptoed to the other end of the cave, but Bowser’s head didn’t follow the movement. He waved his hand, and Bowser just continued to “stare” at the rain falling outside.

“The pay’s good. Same with paid time off,” Bowser continued, when Luigi didn’t say anything.

Luigi shivered at the thought of working for Bowser. “I’ll, uh, consider it.” 

“Now, servant, what is your name?”

Luigi flinched. “Uh…” Shoot. He definitely shouldn’t give Bowser his real name. “L… Luis.” This was never going to work. He was so bad at lying.

“Luis… Sounds kind of familiar…”

“Er, it’s a common name.”

“Hmm… I see. Well, servant, your first action will be seeing what you can do about my leg.”

Why did Bowser even bother asking for his name? “Your leg?”

Bowser growled. “You think I’d be in this cave if I could help it?” He gestured behind him with his chin. “Get to it. And if you cause me any pain, I’ll fry you.”

“B-but—” He wasn’t a doctor! How was he supposed to know what would or wouldn’t cause pain?

“Stop dilly-dallying and get to work!” Bowser roared.

Luigi straightened his back and cried, “R-right!” As he crept around Bowser, he considered just running as far down into the cave as he could. Though… while Bowser couldn’t move, he still had his fire breath—and Luigi had plenty of experience to know that stuff had a wickedly long range. 

[soumarhea]

Back at it again with Planes WoF au, this time with the racers of Wings Around The Globe Rally. Or, in this au, Wings Around The Continent Rally. This is going to be a short one since apparently Meet The Planes and The Art of Planes (I don't have any other books on them other than these two) have very little material on the racers for me to work with.

Anyway, when I gave the smokejumpers their call sign numbers and Dusty his "D7", I didn't think much of it. And then, half way through working with the rest of the racers, I got hit with the realization, "Shouldn't Pyrrhia have their own version of alphanumeric characters?? Like, sure, every time us readers were shown in-universe writings, it's still A to Z and 0 to 9, but that might as well be for readers' convenience. Shouldn't the dragons still have their own lettering??". But by this point I'm already in too deep, so I'll just say the alphanumerics lean more towards World of Cars than Wings of Fire because it's a pain to go back and change things atp. fml

[Propwash Junction] | [Piston Peak Air Attack] | [PPAA Size comp.]

Ripslinger

The green of his wings is due to his hybrid-ness. And since green isn't a regular color for SkyWings and NightWings, he took pride in it so much that he had the tips of his horns, spikes, talons, and claws painted in the same shade.

He's a SkyWing/NightWing hybrid. As if a SkyWing's pride isn't enough, he also have a NightWing's superiority complex. He didn't have any NightWing powers tho.

He has a natural-born talent for fast flying and is blessed with high maneuvering speed. His life growing up was filled with praise and adoration by everyone. When he won first place in his first ever race, to say it didn't go to his head would be an utter lie. And he'd proceed to make a winning streak that was yet to be broken.

The only thing bigger than his wingspans is his ego. The fact that Dusty, a lowly "lazy" RainWing, joins the big race doesn't sit right with him. There's no way this puny little farm lizard could even dream of comparing to him!

Ned & Zed

I keep forgetting which one am I working with at some points (only way to tell them apart is their wings' gradient and the little detail in their eye), so I choose to include their names with their numbers. Yep. These goobers is the reason I even noticed the alphanumerics issue.

They're SkyWing twins. Neither developed firescales, so they very much live a regular healthy lives.

Before they become racers, they're very much a pair of troublemakers in the Sky Kingdom, from swindling to stealing and every other crime they allegedly committed. Until the twin crosses paths with Ripslinger, who see how their underhandedness can come in handy for him.

What they don't have in talent, they make up in cunning. Ned and Zed are superior at playing dirty.

El Chupacabra

I want to give him cape, but damn, I don't wanna draw cape. He can't shame me if he don't have cape.

A typical MudWing. He has quite the passion for art, from literature to music to theater. He also likes to play wrestling with his siblings. But most of all, he loves racing.

He never missed a single race held by the Mud Kingdom. El Chu won enough times to self-proclaim himself as a racing champion of Mud Kingdom. The reason he joins the Wings Around The Continent Rally is to see what it's all about.

His siblings made the mask and gifted it to him as a good luck charm. He's very touched by the gift and never took it off since he got it.

Bulldog

Uses armband (legband??) for his number. He's not comfortable with painting his scales, especially over his bioluminescence scales.

A typical SeaWing. The oldest dragon in the race, he was a veteran of the SandWing Succession War (everyone else here is below 30 years old).

The reason he ventured into racing was to see more of the world that was once plagued with war. But he'd soon find the enjoyment in racing itself.

He's faster underwater in his element, but that doesn't mean he'd lag behind in the air. In fact, he put up quite the challenge for the other racers.

Rochelle

I'm trying to come up with some interesting commentary here... She has a flower tattoo on her hind leg.

An IceWing with minor mutation. Her scales are pinkish than the typical blues or silvers.

She came from the Ice Kingdom village, Hamlet-That-Worships-the-Whales-Who-Sing-at-Night. (I just found out Ice Kingdom have stupendously long names for their villages, and I shall proceed to use the longest named village as her hometown.) Most in her village would describe her as beautiful. Dangerously beautiful.

Rochelle worked as a mail carrier and developed an affinity for flying fast, which inspired her to give racing a try. She has never looked back since.

Ishani

I want to use more colors for her, like oranges, purples, and greens, but then it'll take me next year to make up my mind on her design.

She's ¾Sandwing, ¼RainWing. One of her parents are SandWing/RainWing hybrid. Due to her RainWing-ness, her wings and dorsal frills can shift a limited color palette.

The reason she tried her luck in racing is due to a need for a change of pace. One of the things she finds to love about racing is the scenery around the continent. One other thing is, surprisingly, beating other racers in the race.

Her singing voice is otherworldly. If she hadn't made it as a racer, she'd do just as fine in theater.

Size comparison of the racers! Of course there's actually like 21 racers in total participating; they're just the notable ones.

It's funny that there's no NightWing representation here. There's Ripslinger, yes, but he's still more SkyWing than NightWing. And of course, Dusty is still the smallest.

So for the Wings Around The Continent stages, I look at the stages of Wings Around The Globe Rally and see if I could translate it on Pyrrhia's continent,

and this is what I ends up with;

"Washed-up Junction" still cracks me up, just the image of the little town being a retirement town full of old retired dragons y'know. Also, I might move Air Attack somewhere that actually have a peak...

So the race would start from the Sky Kingdom to the Ice Kingdom; from the heart of the Ice Kingdom to the border separating ice and sand; and then two races throughout the Kingdom of the Sand; one race across the mountain range to the east coast of the continent; a race across the sea to the Summer Palace (hc the palace would've already been somewhat rebuilt by this time); and then the race back to the Sky Kingdom.

The reason why the race doesn't go through Rainforest Kingdom is, because. I don't want Dusty to be anywhere near home when he got lost over the Bay of a Thousand Scales.

[knives-in-the-dishwater]

I've been meaning to do an "everyday carry" post for a while, but I've only recently had time to lay everything out. Details below the fold.

items pictured here (starting in the top left, going down roughly in columns):

sketch wallet clutch

20 oz water bottle (usually used for coffee, kombucha, or Gatorade)

64 oz water bottle (exclusively used for water)

earbud case

pocket mirror

UAG phone case (phone, which is being used to take this picture, is a Motorola moto-G power)

rope dart

Bluetooth multimedia controls (mounted on an armband)

notebook

paracord (550lb, approx. 12 feet)

stamps

Mantis Con Brillo fixed edge tanto (with paracord handle)

alumina ceramic sharpening rod (handle broke off, but it's still usable)

two emery boards

Burt's Bees lip balm

small tools roll

sharpie

pilot g-2 pen

6 inch steel needle (used as hair pin)

small diamond rake (in small tools roll)

large diamond rake (in small tools roll)

small hook rake (in small tools roll)

large hook rake (in small tools roll)

three tension tools (in small tools roll)

angled tweezers (in small tools roll)

small-tip screwdriver (in small tools roll)

ring sizer (in small tools roll; I don't really need to carry this but it's in the roll so it doesn't get lost)

large-tip screwdriver (in small tools roll)

needle-tip tweezers (in small tools roll)

keyring

karambit

three nine-inch throwing spikes (with sheath)

sunblock

sunglasses

glasses case (with microfiber cleaning cloth)

Bradley Kimura XI balisong with G10 scales and paracord latch (scales made by Squid Industries before they were a company; just one person with a cnc mill on reddit)

contents of Sketch Wallet:

1.0 mm Ohuhu drawing pen

0.05 mm Ohuhu drawing pen

brush-tip Ohuhu drawing pen

0.5 mm Kuru Toga mechanical pencil w/ red lead

three blank playing cards

sketch book

close-up of earbuds. Moondrop Arias with FiiO UTWS3 drivers and memory-foam tips. minor damage to the left side has been mitigated with a small elastic band used as a spacer.

lmk if y'all have any questions or wanna see anything in better detail.

[stormvanari]

Ridiculous.

Text below cut:

Top image:

• SD-MH

• Walks into the battlefield as if entering a Wild West showdown

• Professional neatfreak

• Possible background (dead) Disassembly Drone in the Lanthanum-57 story

• Unfortunate squadmates with SD-SS and SD-NS (the Savoys)

-MH is the squad’s terminator

• Marigold flower is the DDs’ armband: it opens up to reveal manufacturing IDs and all

• Doesn’t bare fangs as much as the other Marigold DDs

• If you read the webcomic, you’ll understand why SD-MH wears stockings here

Bottom image:

• Tail “spikes” when Oh Shit mode is triggered; also applies when agitated/pissed off

-Apparently, that’s now my HC for Disassembly (+ Alpha) Drones in general :D

[burnedlogeater]

Thou art I, I'm thou, Chainsaw Man is the means by which all is revealed...

I'm too lazy to make a whole character sheet so I just did this and I will put all the other things I have in my head in the post itself

·She was in SEES before Mitsuru, Akihiko and Shinjiro joined, nobody really knows where did she come from. She was the one with the most experience.

·Her weapon of choice is a Chainsaw Chain that she uses like a whip, because of the spikes in the chain she has to use thick gloves and clothes to not harm herself. Originally she didn't use a weapon, her persona was enough, but they forced her to take something just in case.

·Even if she can summon a Persona through an evoker, she doesn't have an actual persona, she has the ability to take control of shadows, similar to the power of the wild cards, who can wield multiple Personas. She manipulates people to make their shadows stronger to later steal them for her to use. "The Hero of Hell" (she sometimes calls them "Pochita" or "Chainsaw Man") is the shadow of one of her victims, and the strongest one she ever got.

·She was planning to someday kill and steal Ikutsuki's shadow.

·She died in one of the tartarus explorations, the third years believe she got eaten by shadows, but in reality, in said exploration she got lost and separated from the group, and "The Hero of Hell" got out of control (similar to what happened with Shinjiro and Chidori) and attacked her, she didn't survive and "the hero of hell" disappeared. They only found her armband.

[bomusims]

mira dela cruz ☆ a nana osaki inspired look

this is my first time editing so i am very open to constructive criticism 🙇 cc used are below the cut! enjoy <3

genetics

wolf hair by @jino-sims ☆ visions 01 eye preset by @evoxyr ☆ lip preset by @jul-haos-official ☆ faded eye contacts by @twisted-cat ☆ brows g12 by @goppolsme ☆ moles by @sims3melancholic ☆ freckles n1 by @northernsiberiawinds

makeup

cute tatts by @coupsim ☆ makeup set cc 47 by @goppolsme ☆ liner cc 20 by @goppolsme ☆ lipstick by @jul-haos-official ☆ blush by @simandy

look

vest by @serenity-cc ☆ skirt by @sentate ☆ platform pumps 03 by @jius-sims ☆ hat by @wijiwan ☆ choker by @mothz ☆ mirror earrings by @pralinesims ☆ god's menu armband by @becky-sims ☆ ring by @nsves ☆ laces and spikes stockings + garter by @trillyke

please let me know if i linked anything incorrectly!!

[naushtheaspiringauthor]

~Child Of The Storm~

Nikolai Lantsov x OC

Image by - @brokendreamtale2

Warnings- mentions of what happened to Baghra, slight mention of poisoning

A/N- I'm feeding y'all with the lil convos😼😼let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

Taglist- @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @sirisuorionblack @nadeleine123n @marauders-wife @evelyndane @el-de-phi

Ch-51 ~The monastery~

Upon entering the room, Anaya looked around with a wide-eyed gaze. The place was truly impressive.

 It's not even a room, she realized. They were standing at the top of a hollowed-out mountain. She now understood that the frost fingers were actually enormous bronze columns cast in the shapes of people and creatures. They towered above them, bracketing huge panels of glass that looked out on the ocean of cloud below. The glass was so clear that it gave the space an daunting sense of openness, as if she could walk straight through and fall down into the abyss.

The room was teeming with people. Some bunched in groups where drafting tables and bits of machinery had been set up. Others were marking crates of supplies in a kind of makeshift warehouse. 

Another area had been set aside for training. Soldiers sparred with dulled swords while others summoned Squaller winds or cast Inferni flame. Through the glass, Anaya could see terraces protruding in four directions, giant spikes like compass points, north, south, east, west. Two had been set aside for target practice. 

This place had no comparison to the White Cathedral. Unlike that hellhole, this place was bustling with life. Anaya had never thought she would miss being among people so much.

“So much glass” She heard Alina whisper

“But no frost,” Mal noted.

Anaya found herself wondering the same, but David spoke out her conclusion before she could.

“Heated pipes” he said. “They’re in the floor. Probably embedded in the columns too.” 

“There are boilers beneath us,” Nikolai said. “The whole place runs on melted snow and steam heat. The problem is fuel, but I’ve been stockpiling coal.”

“For how long?” Anaya asked

“Two years. We started repairs when I had the lower caverns turned into hangars. It’s not an ideal vacation spot, but sometimes you just want to get away.”

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

Anaya was given a room that she was entirely grateful for. She was glad to have a place to herself. It wasn’t as big as her quarters at the Little Palace but it was nice enough. And more so, as she was finally in a place with windows. She changed out of her dirty clothes and put on a fresh pair that had been left on the bedside table for her. She went outside after she finished brushing her hair.

However upon going out, she found out that Sergei had apparently let Genya’s name slip, something they’d agreed not to do. Even though he was still grieving, he’d done a massive thing and had basically jeopardized their position with Nikolai.

A group of soldiers with blue armbands were making attempting to arrest Genya but David was standing by her side. Tolya and Tamar had blocked the soldiers’ way and the rest of them arrayed behind them. Anaya couldn’t see Sergei anywhere, which she believed was better since she would’ve strangled him if he'd been there.

“She’s here!” Nadia called when she caught sight of Alina approaching.

 She went straight to Genya. “The King is waiting,” said one of the guards.

 “Let him wait.” Zoya snapped back

 Alina put her arm around Genya’s shoulders, leading her a little back. Anaya could hear her and Mal attempting to console Genya.

"The king demands her presence right this moment, they can't just-" one of the guards began

"She will present herself to the King when she is ready" Anaya cut him off, her voice having a familiar old jaggedness.

The three of them shortly returned to the group. David looked questioningly at Genya, and she reached out to take his hand. 

“We’re ready,” Alina said to the soldiers. Mal and the twins fell into step beside them, but Alina held up a warning hand to the rest of them.

 “Stay here,” she said, then added quietly, “and keep alert.”

Genya had conspired with the Darkling and had gone against the throne, even though she didn’t have much of a choice, though no one would ever be considering that. And she’d somehow attempted to poison the King. Surely he wouldn’t have liked the idea of her being alive.

When they’d come back down the hall, David was murmuring to Genya about the properties of vegetable alkaloids and such.  Genya appeared bolder and far more relieved than she’d been before leaving, which displayed that she might’ve not been charged with anything.

When Anaya had finally got the opportunity, she asked Genya as to what had happened. And she told her about how she poisoned the King, and how Nikolai had literally forced the King to write an abdication letter and exiled both him and the Queen to the southern colonies.

“Quite bold of him” Anaya spoke at the news. “But I’m glad you’re alright” she said to Genya pleasantly

“I’m grateful to Nikolai for it. I’m surprised but he’s actually a lot better than this family. And, he even seems to care for the way he dresses” She chuckled

After Genya pointed it out, Anaya also thought of how no matter the situation, the boy’s clothing was always immaculate.

“Well, if given the opportunity I’d be looking immensely endearing as well” She shrugged. “Not that I don’t do right now” she added defensively

Genya chuckled at her statement, “Really?” she raised an eyebrow, grinning

“Oh please, have you seen me in midnight blue?” Anaya said in a dramatic voice

“Maybe once this is over, I can have you try something in the colour and we’ll see for ourselves yeah?”

“Sure yeah” Anaya lifted a shoulder

                 …………...........................................................................

Anaya walked through the halls of the Spinning Wheel. She'd soon learned that the place had originally been a monastery of Sankt Demyan and had been an abandoned observatory until Nikolai had found a use for it.

The view of the massive mountains was quite daunting because of the height at which they were. However, she found herself being able to relax as it was far peaceful here, and it even provided her with the illusion of safety. 

Anaya was observing the various sections of the place from the terrace when she heard a voice from behind.

“I believe you’re quite intrigued by this place” She turned around to see Nikolai in a long overcoat with his blonde hair shining in the sunlight.

“Well, it is quite impressive what you’ve transformed this place into” she said, raising her eyebrows

“Ah I know I’m very impressive” he began grinning

Anaya rolled her eyes, “Not you, just your work” she said

“Eh we’ll get there” he winced

She spoke after a short moment as a thought struck her mind, “Did you bring Baghra here?” she asked. 

She'd heard of what the Darkling had done to her. How he'd punished her for attempting to save Alina. Though she'd heard from Alina that she'd asked Nikolai to take Baghra with him. 

“Oh yeah. And I'm very much regretting it” Nikolai chuckled

“Ah so you've had the pleasure of conversing with her?” She raised an eyebrow

“She is a menace” He responded dramatically. “I wonder what method of torture she's found for Alina now”.

“Oh I'm sure it's far worse than her previous ones” she frowned

Anaya looked around at the massive glass windows as she began to wonder. "What kind of glass is this? It appears far durable than normal glass" she asked

Nikolai's face lightened up on her question. "It's actually not normal glass" he began with great enthusiasm. "I'll show you" he paced towards one of the windows. Anaya fell into step with him, paying close attention to his words. 

"Instead of the usual alkaline silicate composition, it has potassium nitrate in high quantities, making it a lot more durable" he explained, gesturing to the window. 

"Impressive" Anaya said, utterly fascinated

"It is" He beamed. "I was also intrigued by their structure when I first visited this place, so I did some research. It's truly impressive how well-built a monastery is" he paced around the windows as he continued.

Anaya was paying close attention to his words, when she noticed the significant number of people gathered near one of the terraces. She could pick out Harshaw's red hair amidst the crowd, and Oncat perched up on his shoulder. Zoya was standing behind him. 

"What are they looking at?" She wondered, loud enough for Nikolai's attention to turn to her. 

"Let's see for ourselves" He said.

They strode forward to find the crowd gathered around Alina, who was attempting to hack off the peak of a mountain by forming the cut.

She caught a glimpse of Baghra standing with her stick in her hand and a little boy by her side. Upon seeing Baghra, she realized how true Alina had been. Her smooth and flauless skin now appeared wrinkled and old and her shiny black hair had wholly turned gray. She appeared as if she'd aged several decades in the matter of a few months.

But the most noticeable and startling change was in her eyes. The irises that were once a gleaming black, now appeared hazy and clouded.

He has blinded her, Anaya realized with a slight tremor. She knew that the Darkling wouldn't have liked the idea of his mother assisting Alina in escaping, but she truly hadn't expected him to do something like this to his own mother.

Despite knowing one to be a monster, you can never truly anticipate as to what extents they might go to.

“It’s too far,” She heard Alina grumble. “And it’s huge.”

“It is not too far" Baghra sneered.  “You are as much there as you are here. The same things that make the mountain make you. It has no lungs, so let it breathe with you. It has no pulse, so give it your heartbeat. That is the essence of the Small Science.” She thumped the girl with her stick. “Stop huffing like a wild boar. Breathe the way I taught you, contained, even.”

Alina's face brimmed with embarrassment at her words. The woman had clearly not been devoid of her venomous words.

She closed her eyes and in a brief moment, lashed out with the Cut. It struck the side of the mountain, sending a sheet of ice and rock tumbling with a dull roar. A cheer went up from the crowd.

“Hmph,” said Baghra. “They’d clap for a dancing monkey.”

“All depends on the monkey,” Nikolai chimed in . “And the dance.”

“Better?” Baghra asked the boy.

“A little,” he spoke grudgingly.

“A lot!” Alina protested. “I hit it, didn’t I?” 

“I didn’t ask you to hit it, I told you to take its head off. Again.” Baghra said

“Ten coins says she doesn’t make it,” called one of Nikolai’s rogue Grisha.

“Twenty says she does,” shouted Adrik loyally

“Thirty says she can hit the one behind it.”  Mal spoke, leaning against the archway, his arms crossed. “That peak is over five miles away,” Alina protested “More like six,” he said Alina focused her attention back on the mountain. When she brought her arm down, the arc she made shone bright as it pierced through the haze of the clouds. There was an echoing thunder at a distance. The sky seemed to vibrate. Slowly, the top of the far mountain began to move.

It slid inexorably to the side, snow and rock cascading down its face, leaving a perfect diagonal line where a peak had once been.

The crowd began to whoop and cheer. Anaya gave Alina an amused grin as her gaze met with hers. 

The little boy was jumping up and down, crowing, “She did it! She did it!”

Anaya then glanced at Baghra again. She needed an answer for something that'd been nagging at her brain for a long while.

[darkartistyt]

lore time pt 2: electric boogaloo (the kidnapping arc)

This is everything after the crossover part. TL;DR, we've just left Silly Gooberville and are now entering Unnecessary Angst County

Someone at the organization has detected an odd surge of magic somewhere in Paris. They report it to Isaac and Jean-Francois (if he's not incarcerated or dead or smth i dont remember), who, over time, are able to deduce that it's from the Bracelet of Tiamat. Perfect for them; they need to get their hands on it anyway, and the machine they're using to detect supernatural shit can also pinpoint its relative location

They want to wait a little bit longer, as it doesn't seem to be at the necessary level of power yet, but after a particularly intense spike following a short yet sudden absence (which was when Hera entered but they don't know that), they decide to start investigating then

Some time has passed, and everything has been pretty normal. Raphael rarely uses his powers, and if he does, he's secretive about them. He messes around more at home where he's not worried about being caught, and he doesn't like to wear the armband to sleep, but he's not too worried as the only ones in his apartment are himself, his girlfriend, and his dog. Little does he know he's being spied on >:]c

The night of the ninth day (so after three days of "investigation"), Raphael gets kidnapped. They manage to conduct their abduction well enough to not wake him, but Fondue does get up a little while later and gets a strange feeling that something's wrong. He sleepily goes into Raphael's room to check on him, only to find him missing, signs of a struggle (including a few unfamiliar scents), and the window closed but unlocked

He rushes to get Marie and drags her into his room. As soon as it clicks, she panics, puts on her jacket, and runs outside, hoping to find any sort of clues around the window or something. The two snoop around for a bit before, after finding nothing but their scent trail, calling Charlie to ask for help

Charlie decides not to wake his dad, even though Marie suggests getting him involved. She's pretty insistent, but she respects his wishes enough not to take action herself, although she makes sure he knows that she will if they can't handle it on their own

Fondue leads the others as he follows the scent towards the bad guys. I don't know where their HQ is, but they go there

Meanwhile, Raphael had woken up after they escaped through the window, but was quickly knocked out before he could cry for help. He wakes again only after they've already arrived at their destination and notices he's now in handcuffs, which he soon learns are blocking him from using his powers

He's handed off to some Chevaliers, who bring him to Jean-Francois. He is not at all surprised to see Raphael, but he does mutter something about "hoping it wouldn't be you..." (He's worried about Isaac flaking on their plan to siphon away his magic after realizing the one who now holds the Bracelet's powers is his son)

Raphael's still very scared (partially due to getting a little injured while trying to fight back), and Jean-Francois tries to calm him down by saying that they weren't going to hurt him and that he'd be fine. "It's a painless process," he says with a smile, but Raphael is somehow able to magically sense that something's off. He asks what they're going to do to him, but Jean-Francois doesn't answer, just telling the Chevaliers to take him away for a bit while they get prepared

They lock Raphael in a back closet with no windows and no way of exiting aside from the door, which is guarded by two Chevaliers. He still has the magicblocking handcuffs on, and despite searching the room thoroughly, he can't find anything he can use to pick the lock, so there's really nothing he can do :'(

While he's struggling to find a way to escape, Jean-Francois delivers the news to Isaac. He is very reluctant to tell him that the person they've kidnapped is Raphael, and, as expected, when he does finally reveal it, Isaac is not at all happy about it. Shocked and a little afraid, he demands to see his son before anything happens to him, and Jean-Francois brings him to him, telling some other guy to prepare the magic-stealing machine

Though Jean-Francois starts by walking to the closet, as soon as Isaac picks up on where they're keeping him, he rushes towards it, demanding a key from one of the guards and hastily opening the door, only to find Raphael on the floor, panicking. He bolts up and turns to face his father, tears already streaming down his face, and looks up at him as a million thoughts flood his mind and he struggles to find the words to express how he feels

Isaac is horrified; his son is now this inhuman beast whose magic he is soon going to siphon away, and he knows the process is a painful one. But alongside that, a growing part of him just can't believe that *this* is Raphael, that this dragon-like creature is his son

Raphael manages to stand and pleads for his father to help him, but Isaac just stands half-frozen, no idea how to respond. Jean-Francois suggests just bringing him to the extraction machine --- "why don't we just get it over with?" --- And Isaac hesitantly agrees

Stunned, Raphael protests, yelling, "But I'm your son! Why are you letting them do this to me?!"

"My son is a young boy named Raphael," Isaac responds, turning away and making room for the Chevaliers to take him, "not Phantom R, nor this... this monster. Forgive me, but we must finish what we have started."

Raphael has no idea what to say. Or what to do, for that matter. He's too shocked to even resist when the Chevaliers pull him out of the room and begin dragging him away. He keeps his eyes on Isaac, waiting for him too at least glance his way once more, but he never does

Out of nowhere, he hears something whizzing towards him, hitting one of the Chevaliers. He quickly pivots to see a soccer ball bounce off their armor and onto the ground

Charlie, Marie, and Fondue rush towards him, action scene ensues that I'm too lazy to write right now (Charlie has a gun btw), and they rescue Raphael as Chevaliers chase them down the winding halls of the HQ

Jean-Francois is furious, but a part of Isaac is grateful, though the disbelief still remains strong enough for him to not really see Raphael as Raphael anymore. Despite this, Jean-Francois convinces him to help him catch them

They follow the route of the Chevaliers for a moment before getting to a part of the building where there are multiple paths all leading to the same exit. They split up, and Isaac corners the group first. At that point, they had kicked some of the Chevaliers asses and had stopped to break Raphael out of his handcuffs. As soon as he sees Isaac, Charlie pulls out his pistol and demands that he get out of their way, but Isaac holds up his arms and continues to slowly walk towards them

He puts on a sympathetic smile and voice as he tries to convince Raphael that he only said those things because the others were there, that they would have hurt him if he disobeyed, but now he's able to help. Raphael wants to believe him, but his bullshit detector goes off immediately. He keeps up his guard, telling him that he knows he's lying, but Isaac protests, affirming that he didn't mean what he said and that he was terribly sorry for everything that was happening. Again, Raphael knows he's not telling the truth

Upset, hurt, and frankly pissed off, Raphael yells at his father, saying things like "How could you do this?! How could you betray me?!" He admits how alone he was before Fondue came into his life, how abandoned he's always felt, how hard he tried to forgive and forget and how impossible it was not to wonder if his search would be all for nothing --- stuff he hasn't even told his partners. He spills his heart out then and there, all while the area around them feels as though gravity is beginning to weaken and everyone else can see little embers flare up around him

Isaac is growing increasingly desperate to get him back with the Chevaliers, and he promises to explain everything if Raphael obliged. He's tempted, but Marie and Charlie demand he don't listen to him, because even though the levitation thing is growing stronger, the Chevaliers and Jean-Francois are still gaining up on them --- the levitation is only buying them time

It takes a second to convince him, but Raphael does listen to his partners and teleports them all home

The sun is beginning to cross the horizon, its rays slipping through the cityscape and his apartment windows, but the bedroom is still dark and cold. And after Raphael sits down on the bed, Marie and Fondue joining his sides just seconds later, the silence finally begins to set in for all of them. None of them know what to say...

Raphael can hardly believe what just happened, and he struggles to keep himself from crying. They all do what they can to comfort him, with Marie giving him a hug and letting him sob into her shoulder, Fondue handing him his favorite stuffed animal, and Charlie trying his best with some consoling words

After a bit, Raphael calms down and says he's gonna try to get some sleep. They all say goodnight (though Fondue ends up sleeping in his room tonight), but before Charlie can leave the apartment, Marie talks with him about what they should do about all this. They both decide that it would be best to tell his father about the kidnapping and their concerns that they aren't 100% safe

The next morning is spent mostly with police mumbo jumbo that I don't know enough about to describe. Marie and Charlie notice throughout the day how strangely calm and blasé Raphael is about the whole situation, even in private, almost as if it didn't happen. He also doesn't tell the cops about Isaac, just that he was nabbed by the same guys who caused the Hanging Garden events and managed to escape with the help of his partners and dog

Charlie is first to confront him about it, asking why he's so nonchalant about his kidnapping and the whole drama between him and his father, but Raphael avoids giving anything remotely close to a straight answer. He keeps up the act that everything's fine for as long as he can, though he falters from time to time, which only serves to make his partners even more worried

Marie tries to tell him to leave it alone for now, that Raphael's just Like This and that he'll tell them if something's seriously wrong, but Charlie presses 'x' to doubt and counters with, "You're sure he won't just keep it to himself?" to which Marie has no response. Regardless, they don't want to pressure him too much, so Charlie does end up doing as Marie asks, but they both keep it all in mind

[hadestownreconstruction]

What was Cerberus like as a character in design n stuff?

I’m not sure if you mean vibe or costume, so I’ll answer both!

Vibe: badass biker bitch, ghastly security guard kind of thing going on. Cerberus makes a lot of arrests and acts as some pretty badass security.

Costume: I know a bit more about this cause I’ve made a cosplay of Cerberus. There are two costumes, one from each production. 2006 is black pants, boots, zipped up leather jacket, red goggles, black biker gloves, and spiked collar. 2007 was black shirt with armbands, black pants with utility belt (belt had one pouch and a drumstick holder). Same boots and goggles, no leather jacket or gloves.

2006 on the left, 2007 on the right. Hope this answers your questions!

[tonykeiart]

Commissioned octopus with spiked armbands done 💜🏳️‍⚧️