#thank you poppy <3

[flamemittens]

maybe for morgayne and gortash?

Flower Language prompts from here!

Gortash x F!Durge. 1.3k words. *Act 3 spoilers*.

*Now extended and on AO3*

Black-eyed Susan - "Revenge tastes sweet, and so are you."

The first time she meets with him is shortly after the coronation ceremony.

Her companions do not want her to go alone, but Morgayne insists. It is better this way. There is an inexorable pull towards the man that she finds she cannot ignore, and he seems to have at least some of the answers she seeks—if he is telling the truth. They have heard the rumours—from whispers that coil in dark corners, to braver shouts that ring off the buildings and cobblestoned streets—all over parts of the city and its outskirts; in his rise from upstart lordling to city ruler and protector, he has used everything and everyone—whether at his disposal or not—to ascend.

She finds him upstairs in his office, as promised.

He assures her that their plans can still be brought to fruition. He confidently directs, explains to her what they should do, and Gods, that evasive something in her wants to listen. It is all so frustratingly, distantly recognizable. Hypnotic, in a way.

There must be more to it, she thinks. To them. She recalls the torn page she found in the Moonrise mindflayer colony, and its frenetic, tormented penmanship.

“Lord Gortash. Who were we to each other? Really?”

He seems to wince, for some reason, at her use of his title. After a brief silence, he finally offers his answer.

“I meant what I said in the audience hall. You can use that as a reference if you wish.”

Morgayne frowns. “As strange as it may seem, that does not make things much clearer. I only have more questions.”

“Well then. Allow me to fill in some more of the specifics for you, in a way that leaves no room for interpretation.”

“Please do.”

“Have a seat, then.” He sees her hesitate, and adds, in a strangely gentler tone, “I insist.”

They talk for an hour before she takes her leave.

--

She returns to him again a day or two later. She doesn’t really know what draws her there; perhaps it is this nostalgic, tenuous thread of intimacy and trust that she cannot yet determine the root of.

They talk further.

“How are your memories?” he asks, after a while.

Morgayne sighs. “It’s like trying to complete a puzzle but all the pieces are broken, scattered, and some will forever be missing. However, some things are coming back to me, I think. Slowly.”

Something like delight flares in his dark eyes. Something like hope.

She stays for longer this time.

“How was your Archduke, darling?” Astarion asks later as he sidles up to her on her return to the Elfsong, amusement plain on his beautiful features.

“He is not my Archduke” she counters flatly, feeling none of the conviction she tries so hard to imbue the words with.

--

“I heard you went to the Hells today” Gortash begins the next time she visits him. “You’ve been busy, my dear.”

“Yes” she confirms.

She tells him about it all, of Helsik, of Hope, of Nubaldin. Of what the self-important rock gnome revealed before she was compelled to sear the flesh from his bones, to burn away his smug grin—but not how she later felt she had been told part of the story before. That she keeps to herself for now. She speaks of the Master of the House, and how she robbed him blind.

Any other eyes on the scene would think he is not reacting, but she sees something subtle in the set of his jaw, the rise of his shoulders, the pitch of his eyes. How one clawed gauntlet grips the edge of the table, pressing marks into the oak, how the knuckles on his other tightly fisted hand are turning white. How he won’t even look at her, his gaze fixed on the floor as she talks.

“Raphael is dead” she finishes.

His eyes flick to hers eventually, the tension bleeding out of him faster than it bloomed.

“It’s…curious, isn’t it” he muses.

She doesn’t need to ask what he means.

--

As per their agreement, she goes to him after her duel with Orin.

She tells him what happened, down there in the dark. How she defied her father. How she lay there, drained and dead on the cold, bloodstained stone. How she came to be here now, telling him about it all.

“You have our—your revenge, then. And your freedom.”

She takes a mouthful of the Marsember Blush, lets it linger on her tongue before swallowing. It’s a balmy evening, and the wine is as refreshing as it is spicy.

“Yes. It would seem I do.”

He studies her with an almost unnerving intensity over the rim of his glass.

“I always knew, Mori.” is all he says.

That’s the name engraved on the inside of the ring she wears on her right hand, she thinks.

Her Archduke looks tired tonight.

--

The letter arrives the next afternoon, precisely crafted if a little concise, and mildly fragranced like his coronation invitation. She takes it to a quiet corner to read, drinking in its scent. His scent. It is one line, with an Upper City address at the bottom.

M Come to this address tonight. I can promise you it will be worth your while.” E

Later, she slips away from the others, but is intercepted by Jaheira on the landing outside their rooms. The older half-elf appears concerned. She can’t say it isn’t justified.

“I feel we are losing you.”

“Interesting that you should say that. I feel I am finding myself.” She packs as much of an apology as she can into her smile.

Jaheira looks as if she understands somehow. “Be careful, cub” she says, after a beat.

A short time later, Morgayne reaches the building in question. It’s a sprawling, well-appointed manor like many of those in the Upper City. She glances down one side of the building, spotting a tall trellis thick with ivy that scales up to a balcony. A fragment comes back to her then—heavy rain, gloved fingers slipping on the wood before finally reaching stone.

On entering, she is welcomed and led upstairs; she notices the guards, yes, but also the minimal staff, the thin coat of dust over almost everything—he does not come here much anymore, she recognises.

She is ushered into what she is informed are his personal chambers.

Gortash—Enver—sits at a desk, nearby a large chaise that faces an unlit fireplace. Multiple pages of what looks to be Steel Watcher schematics are spread over its surface. A decanter and tumbler, both half-filled with amber liquid, sit at his elbow. He is casually dressed, save for his golden gauntlets.

“Ah, there you are. You found your way here, at last.”

He rises as she approaches, walking around to stand in front of her.

She sees it all then, plain on his face. Relief. Pride. Desire.

He leans in with a confidence, a lover’s closeness that she supposes he has already earned, long ago. Something clicks into place as she smells the whisky on him—it’s less a moment of realization and more of a punch to the chest that steals her breath away—it speaks of the past, of hushed conversations and affection and trust.

The air seems to become warmer, thicker with every passing moment. He’s orchestrated all of this, she knows now. A tableau of echoes just for her.

She believes it all, feels the truth in it.

He kisses her then, and she kisses him back. It’s clumsy at first, like a musician trying to recall a once beloved tune, but she falls into the familiar rhythm soon enough. He trails his mouth along her jawline and pulls her flush against him, as one hand slides round the back of her neck and up into the base of her braid—the cool metal against her warm skin is…grounding.

“Stay here” he murmurs into her ear. “Where you belong. Don’t go back to them.”

And Gods help her, she stays.

[potatoes-tomatoes]

[soosoosoup]

treasure planet au, last of the batch (Poppy & Floyd)

[triplehearts]

We’ll take turns to untangle the knots

Though our hands may be tied

It’s all a part of the plot

[sitruuna-art]

AHHHHH I LOVE THE WAY YOU DRAW DOGDAY SO MUCH!!!! by any chance may we get some player and catnap content? :3

you save a weird-lookin' cat ONE time and suddenly it thinks you are an angel sent by god or something, smh

[kira-anomaly]

Something simple

[funny-critter-blog]

is fanart for the switcheroo critters allowed? they look adorable to me and It made me wanna draw them—

if not then I have a backup question for one of them

Can HeroHen fly, does he want to fly?

If so, did he beg for flying lessons from PeggiZest /j

OMG YESS

I would love fanart of the Switcheroo Critters!

And tag me in it, I wanna seeeeee

And to answer your other question, Hero can’t fly, cuz he’s a chicken, but he wishes he could so bad

it is the quintessential superhero ability, after all

He would totally ask Peggi to fly him around every once in a while, so he can feel what it’s like, and he LOVES it

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

context <3

[lochneassamonster]

Branch: I’ll cut your throat! That’ll shut you up! Poppy: You’re Beautiful…

Broppy + Tamagonneko's Princess Mononoke AU

[toastwithahat]

Original Image:

[iidgm]

I know this, probably won't happen but I wanna see Roxie save Dogday somehow

in a different universe before Poppy's angel found him . . .

Reblogs > Likes

[funtimespringscare101]

So just finished Dawko's gamethrough of Poppy Playtime Chapter 3's ending and...

Potential Spoilers for Poppy Playtime Chapter 3: Deep Sleep. Newcomers beware!

... *Inhale* WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK-

[ca-8]

THANK Y'AALL

(Dear GOD, it was so hard drawing DogDay for this one AGHHH but I think I figured it out ha h-) ANYWAYS, IM SO HAPPY Y'ALL LIKED THE DOGDAY x READER FIC I POSTED!! This guy is my new comfort character, I love him sm and I refuse to acknowledge his death (and yes, the girlies beside him are my OCs/selfinsertsmaybeagh- literally just my personality traits split into two people, more on them later-) BUT YES, as I said, I will be posting more DogDay, although the next update is a requested one - a Yandere Bunzo Bunny!! Aw I love that name, that's so cute >w< AN Y WAY, I'll see y'all in a bitty bit! Have a good rest of your days/nights!~

[soosoosoup]

Watermelon peck

[artsychanel]

my favs. reading book 2 and i'm absolutely terrified for all of them. please send thoughts and prayers for my sanity as i move forward what are they called? the fruity four? the altan fan club? the altan hate club? idk

[sitruuna-art]

I like the swapped poppy playtime au!! Im curious about the Prototype and the Angel like how would they look like?

(Love your art-style)

Nobody is quite sure what the ANGEL looks like, and the ones that did have been dead for a long time. The closest thing the toys have to the ANGEL's appearance is DogDay's shrine, which is...quite exaggerated, to say the least. The Prototype is in ruins, but CatNap spends all his energy trying to put him back together.