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coffeeangelinabox · 1 month

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Whumpril #13: Angry Tears

Lee’s been alone in the dark for however long it’s been. No contact, no stimulation. He can smell himself, rank and unwashed. Rot and death.

The door cracks open revealing a thin wedge of light that may as well be a blunt knife to the eyes, inciting white hot tingling pain all down the neglected optic nerve and driving ice pick tendrils into his brain. He slams his lids shut, but still the red hot burst of light kaleidoscopes through his memory like sparks and fireworks.

He senses the shadowy presence that steps up close. It doesn’t speak. A hand clenches around his upper arm, dragging him to standing with a jerk that almost takes him off his feet and his arm from the socket. He’s pulled along at a stride half again his own that almost takes him to the ground, feet tripping over one another as he struggles to keep up. His muscles are just as unused as his eyes and feel weak and noodly. He realises he’s shaking. His bare soles slap against the cool metal plates of the flooring and Lee feels a vague sense of shame at the filthy marks he must be leaving, at the stench that will be in his wake.

His escort still doesn’t speak, not even to insult him. Lee’s not even sure if it’s a man or a woman, though he’d guess man simply from the strength and bult of him. Not that Jemma couldn’t twist him into a pretzel if she took a mind to.

His heart clenches at the thought of Jemma. He’s been forcibly keeping memories of the Valjean at bay, knowing what he’s done to them. He hadn’t meant to…He just-

He just wanted to live.

He flutters his eyelashes trying to accustomed them to the light, receiving in return brief flashes of white and chrome and humming lighting as he’s dragged through the base. Everything is blurry, but he’s starting to be able to keep them open for longer and longer when he’s finally pushed unceremoniously into what he recognises as the Lieutenant’s ready room.

The man (it is a man) lets go of him and takes up a hulking presence in the doorway. Not that Lee would try to escape, what’s the point.

He can’t look at the Lieutenant for more than a moment: scrubbed and pressed and shaved, his uniform looks fresh on mere moments ago, every inch the Domain official. Lee wilts under his gaze, a scruffy child, a criminal.

“Darrow is coming aboard now.”

He wilts further, can’t repress the flinch, but doesn’t otherwise respond. He supposes this is where they’ll part ways as agreed, and thank the stars for that, means he won’t have to-

The Lieutenant is still speaking, apparently not here to gloat in his discomfort after all. “...Captain of this vessel, you are to be executed for crimes against the Domain.”

“What?” Lee gasps out, jerks his head up, meeting those cold eyes. He takes another stumbling step backwards and the guard wraps a meaty arm around him, an unbreakable restraint of muscle and bone even if Lee had somewhere to run and somewhere to flee. “But…we agreed. You-”

The Lieutenant smiles coldly. “I am not required to hold to oaths made to traitors.”

Tears spring to Lee’s eyes and he wishes he could get a hand free to dash them away, humiliated as they roll down his cheeks, hot with rage and salty with spite. He’d given this man everything and this is how he was repaid. “But…” and he can only fall back on the argument of a child. “You promised!” His eyes glitter with more tears, fury straightening his spine where a will to survive had not.

The Lieutenant runs a thumb along Lee’s cheekbone, collecting the wetness there and regards Lee with something approaching amusement. “It’s simple justice,” he says gently. “You have committed any number of crimes and I’m sure you promised not to do to Darrow exactly what you did.”

When the Lieutenant smiles, he has dimples, under other circumstances he’d be Lee’s type. He flushes hotly and the blurring in his eyes is water not sensory recovery now. “You’re a bastard,” he says cold and clear.

#my writing #whump #whump prompts #whumpril2024 #coffeeangelinabox's space opera ocs #sensory deprivation #betrayal #angry tears #whumprilday13 #execution (mentioned) but no death yet

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cablecorvid · 3 years

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The Night I Werked For Slenderman

Ah, the early 2010s, they were really much simpler times. I spent my days doing what most emo kids in their late teens did back then- sitting cross legged in my computer chair and scrolling through Tumblr. I would absentmindedly fiddle with the laces on my checkered Van's while I read through my friends' profiles, reblogging pictures of my favorite bands, and creating posts that were oh so relatable and original, ranging from "lol XD I'm so random" to "I'm so dark and edgy, and nobody understands me" depending on how I felt that day.

It was a night just like any other, just another Wednesday evening when I should have been sleeping before school in the morning. Me being me, the angsty 18 year old guy that I was back then, I had deliberately chosen to stay up late. I was keeping with my typical Tumblr routine, just clicking on various hashtags and hoping from topic to topic, my favorite songs streaming from YouTube on a separate tab.

I had always likened myself to the Mad Hatter, but you might as well call me Alice, because that night I fell down the most life-changing rabbit hole I would ever find. This was the night I discovered the realm of the Creepypasta.

It was like a whole new world had opened up to me. I went through so many posts, each one introducing me to or teaching me about the greatest creations of classic Creepypasta- Jeff the Killer, Smile Dog, Ben Drowned, one right after the other. After several hours of scrolling and clicking and almost a whole can of Monster, I was engrossed, disturbed and intrigued. Images of so many terrifying creatures had filled my mind; I had read just about enough on this topic for one night and was planning on finding something new to look at when I told myself I'd scroll down to one last post...

That was when I saw him. The tall man in black. The crown prince of Creepypasta. The one, the only, Slenderman. He seemed so simple, and yet so unnerving. The grainy black and white photo attached to the post sent chills down my spine. I was hooked, I just had to learn more. Before I knew it, another hour had passed. The can that once held my energy drink was empty, and I wasn't going to stop reading until I was thoroughly versed on all things Slender.

I don't remember what was on before, but I took just a moment to change the song playing on YouTube. Everyone has that one guilty pleasure song that makes them want to bust a move, and I found mine right at the top of my "recommended videos" list. Now, an important side note: the 2010s were a wild mix of pop culture advancements. Alongside the rise of the Creepypasta and the Emo genre, a new dance trend had come into the limelight: the twerk. My best friend, Victoria, who ran in the "cool" circles at school, had attempted to teach me, but I hadn't ever been what you would call good at it. I turned the song on, clicking back on the Tumblr tab on my browser, and kept scrolling, dancing in my chair and singing along while I read.

Over the sound of my music, I heard a tapping noise. I thought it must be the wind or something. I ignored it until again, I heard it, a tap tap tap coming from my window, louder this time. I turned around and felt my heart drop, letting out a scream. The pale, faceless figure I had been reading about was standing outside of my house, his long black tentacles snaking out from his body and, every so often, bumping against the glass with another tap. "This can't be real!" I said to myself, stifling another scream. I turned around to turn off my music, but instead of my regular browser the page was a background of static and, to my shock, the still image of a hyperrealistic set of asscheeks, clad in black formal trousers. It looked like they could pop out of my monitor at any time.

I jumped out of my chair and ran across the room. This can't be happening, I told myself. But, in my heart I knew it had to be. I turned around and he was still there, and he was… Shaking. His menacing form blocked the moonlight, casting a long thin shadow that wobbled through my room. We stared at one another for a little while until I caught my breath. A tendril pressed at the edge of my window, trying to open it. I realized that I hadn't locked it after my last time sneaking out of the house, but it was far too late to do anything now- eventually, after, prodding and pushing, the window gave a creak as it opened and the noodly appendage slipped inside. It curled and gestured towards Slenderman, as if it was beckoning me to come forward. I don't know what possessed me to do so, but I made the decision to go outside and face him, man to man.

I made my way through the house, through the kitchen to our back entrance, hoping desperately with each step that he would be gone by the time I got out of the house. My hopes were dashed when I threw the door open and stepped out into the chilly night air. I realized then, as I laid eyes on him, what he was doing- it was something that I can’t fully describe even to this day. Slenderman, the internet legend himself, was throwing it back in a way I had never seen before, and may never see again. He turned his head slowly, menacingly, his eyeless gaze landing upon me.

No story I read could have prepared me for this encounter, for that itty bitty waist and the round thing in my face. Slenderman, they called him? I beg to differ. Those thighs, that booty? He was thicc. So very, very thicc. He stared at me, unflinching. I stared back in shock, examining the scene before me. One of tentacle-like tendrils made its way towards me, the same beckoning motion it had in my bedroom. I took a step forward. “Okay, big guy. What do you want?” I said aloud, my own courage surprising me.

Slenderman slowed to a stop, then stood straight up. His height, his stance, it shook me to my core. Then, he slowly took his former position once more, his hands on his knees, and waited, his unseeing glare seemingly peering through my very soul. “What do you want?! I already asked you.” Slenderman tilted his head quizzically. He raised his hand slowly, gesturing to me, then returned it to its place on his knee.

My eyes widened, the realization hitting me. “Do you want….. You want me to…. Join you?” I sputtered. He nodded slowly, and I paused. What was I doing? Was I really about to twerk with a being so powerful he struck fear into the hearts of anyone who saw him and could make me disappear without a trace? I told myself that if this really could be the last night of my life I might as well have fun with it. I placed my hands on my knees as he had and nodded to him. It was then that Slenderman started to twerk once more. I slowly shook my head, he slowly shook his ass. I heard the music from my computer grow louder and he really got into it. I tried my best to keep up but there was no way I could match his technique- he was just so advanced and so fluid in his movements. His hips moved in ways that no human could ever compare to, shaking what his momma or whatever unholy creature that made him gave him.

I can’t tell you how long we werked it for, but I could feel my legs growing tired. I wouldn’t dare stop until he was ready to, though I was afraid he could go on forever. I tried to follow his form, shaking it to the beat of the music, but I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. I was almost ready to admit defeat, to collapse after the vigorous dancing that I’d been doing.

My saving grace came in the form of my mother’s voice, and I spun around just as she flicked a switch and flooded the kitchen with light. “What on God’s green Earth are you doing out here, blaring your music at this time of night?!” My mother screamed at me as I put an arm up, shielding my eyes from the sudden illumination.

“It’s not what you think Mom, it’s!-” I turned to look back at Slenderman, but, to my surprise, he had vanished. Not a fleck of dirt on the ground was disturbed where he had once stood- he had completely and utterly vanished.

“I don’t want to hear any lip from you! You get back inside this instant, turn off that racket, and get yourself to bed! Do you hear me?”

“But Mo-”

“No buts!” Mom snapped, grabbing my arm and pulling me indoors. As she shut the door behind me, I thought to myself. If only she knew what I had just experienced. Maybe she would have known that “buts” were the whole reason I was out there in the first place. I promptly went to my room, turned off the music, and slept like a rock. When I woke in the morning, I questioned myself. Could it really have been real? Did that actually happen? I knew in my heart that it could be, that it was, and that it did.

It’s been years since that night. I don’t think of it all that often, but anytime I’m in the club or dancing in my room and bussin it down, I get a chill and the memories come flooding back to me. Not out of fear, no no, simply out of my mad respect for the best in the game. If there’s any lesson that I hope you take from this story, dear reader, it’s this: If you should find yourself in the presence of the creature of your nightmares, don’t throw away your dreams. Throw some ass. You may just be alright after all.

Source: The Night I Werked For Slenderman - u/SkeletonicKeys on r/Iconpasta

#slenderman #slenderverse #wtf do i tag this as #creepypasta #its almost 3am #reb please go to bed #not mine #not my work

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 5 years

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Happy Birthday, franceschee!

Apologies for the short delay on your gift, @franceschee! We hope you had a wonderful day back on April 28th, and got just exactly the presents you were wishing for! To bring the birthday feels back around, @ally147writes has written a story just for you!

Apologies for the delay, @franceschee! I hope you like this little bit of Everlark lovin’! You probably wanted me to write smut, but unfortunately, the muse wasn’t cooperating - I hope you like the alternative ;)

Rated M. Unbeta’d - all errors are my own.

Katniss thinks it’s important to note: she’s only twenty-five.

Not old by any stretch. She keeps herself fit by running a few miles before work. Madge even drags her to yoga when they’ve both got a Saturday off together. Yeah, having been with Peeta for the past decade means she’s had a few more pastries than necessary, but she gets the whole two fruit, five veg thing down most days, so she wouldn’t call herself unhealthy, either.

So, she’d love to know why she’s got the arthritic shoulders of a ninety-year-old.

The strap of her lightweight bag cuts into her with each laborious step she takes up the narrow staircase to the second floor. The elevator’s right there, but she’s not one to take it unless she’s got a damn good reason to. Sore shoulders don’t impact her ability to climb stairs. At least, she really didn’t think they would.

“Hey,” Peeta greets her as she closes the door behind her. He’s stretched out on their lounge with a book in his hands, soft music playing in the background like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s been home since midday, but she’s not so deluded to think he doesn’t work hard in the bakery, or that his early start times aren’t physically taxing in their own ways. There’s even a pot of spaghetti sauce simmering on the stovetop, and the warm scent on the air can only be Peeta’s homemade garlic bread.

Still, unwarranted resentment bubbles and roils in her stomach, and she can’t help but sneer at him, just for a second. “Hey.”

He grins in a way that tells her he knows what she’s thinking and sets his book on the coffee table. “Long day?”

“Yeah, but it’s no big deal.” She groans as she hefts her bag from around her shoulders and sets it on a hook by the door. “It’ll be okay.”

“Shoulders again?”

She winces as she tries to roll them again, but they’re not having any of it. The pain is like a sting and a burn rolled into one. “Yeah.”

Peeta pushes himself off the sofa and takes her hand and leads her to their bedroom. “Come on,” he says. “Strip, lie down.”

“Um, what?”

“I said, strip, and lie down.” He waves at the bed and slides his worn tee over his head.

“Peeta,” she whines. “I think I’m a little sore for whatever you’re planning.”

“You’ve got no idea what I’m planning. So, take off your clothes, lie down on the bed and get comfy, okay?” He turns and rifles through the drawers by his side of the bed. She stares at his back, dumbfounded, as the tinkling of rattling glass echoes in their room.

“I don’t hear you getting naked,” he sing-songs.

She huffs, but complies. The shirt is hell to pull over her shoulders, and snagging her bra isn’t much easier, but she’s naked and atop their bed before Peeta turns around again.

“All ready?” he asks.

She nods as best she can, given her face is squished into the pillow. “I guess. What do you have planned?”

“You’ve been saying that your shoulders hurt every time you come home from a shift.” He holds up a pair of small vials. “I thought a massage might do them some good.”

“It might,” she says, smiling at last.

“I kind of had to guess at what scents you’d like,” he whispers as he dots little pools of warm oil along the length of her back. “Funnily enough, they don’t make cheese bun-scented massage oils. Figured I couldn’t go wrong with lavender.”

“It’s nice,” she agrees. “Very relaxing.”

“Glad you think so.” Gentle music fills their room, and the bed tips as he settles himself astride her ass. He rubs his hands together and sets them gently against her shoulder blades. “Let me know if I hurt you, okay?”

She goes to hum her approval, but the long, broad, warm sweep of his hands along her spine rob her of all words, all sense, all reason.

“How’s that?” he whispers. He makes long, deep strokes up and down, back and forth, dipping his thumbs into the deep, fleshy parts right above her shoulder blades, easing the muscles bunched there. The world narrows down to his hands, and her mind goes blank.

She can barely string two sounds together, let alone two words. He’s got her reduced to little more than a puddle, and she swears she can hear him grinning.

“That good, huh?”

“So good,” she slurs. She closes her eyes and melts into the bed, focusses on the sensation, the heat, the scent and the utter sense of peace that Peeta brings her daily.

“I’m glad.” He leans forward and kisses the back of her neck before he brushes the outer curves of her breasts and moves down along her hips to massage the two dimples of her lower back. Goosebumps erupt down her arms, and a bolt of something cool and warm at the same time ripples through her like a shudder. She always knew his hands had some sort of magic, so strong and deft and capable of acts of utmost delicacy as well as harshness, but never knew it could be quite like this.

She’s not sure how it happens, but when his hands finally leave her, she wakes from a sleep, one so deep and content she feels almost robbed.

Peeta dips forward to press another kiss to her shoulder, and she feels the press of his erection against her lower back. She tries to press back against it, but she’s so limp and noodly that she doubts he registers it at all.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispers as he climbs off her. “I’ll wake you for dinner soon, all right?”

“Okay,” she says with a yawn. But something tells her when she wakes again, refreshed and ready, it won’t be to eat.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by ally147writes

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saint-patrice · 5 years

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Tuukka Rask for the photos please!

this one was also requested by @tuukkaflask40 - thank you both!!! the goalie love is long overdue

Note: a few people have said they like these posts, so i’m happy to take requests if there’s a particular player you’d like to see! see this page (i don’t think it works on mobile because tumblr is a burning shitpile, sorry) for details, and a list of ones i’ve done so far :) i have quite a few requests rn, but feel free to keep em coming!

is there any other way to start this post? one of the most iconic photos in recent hockey history, and an amazing moment (even if massively infuriating). i vote we get a statue of this made and put it up outside TD Garden, alongside bobby

he is one scary, scary man. i’ve come to the conclusion that hockeyplayers are either too stupid to have fear, or have the biggest balls.because i, for one, could not get on the ice and face this without crying, throwing up, or perhaps both

(gif via @so-hockey-eh) HOWEVER! he is actually a lovely guy, as demonstrated here with his adorable daughter!!! i love how she’s so young but already knows what tuukka is like on the ice lmao. seeing Big Scary Hockey Men™ with their tiny children is always such an experience 😭 extremely cute, 10/10

a wonderful image of pasta loving and appreciating his goalie - something i hope we are all doing on a regular basis. after all these years of continually proving himself as Elite and breaking all kinds of records, sports media still try to talk shit on him, which really is unfortunate because he deserves all of the praise and all of the appreciation all of the time, because we really would be lost without him!!!!

haha issa baby

he is Not Amused. tuukka always appears to have a vague disinterest in whatever scene is unfolding in front of him and i love that. he just doesn’t give a flying fuck

further proof that he does not care: this interview. i’drecommend you watch the video, it’s about 2:15 in, but someone asks both Tuukka and Patrice a question, and Tuukka just points to Patrice, who then explains “Tuukka’s just here.” what a legend

(gif via @puckducky) although he is very scary, i cannot bring myself to be physically intimidated by him, he’s just so lanky. and i know that he could kill me in a variety of ways with extreme ease, but i just look at him and i’m like… you cannot hurt me noodly man. maybe that’s how he gets em though - get people to underestimate his strength and then bam!! …who knows.

he is also a legend off the ice. i dare you to find me someone else who would describe their crowd as being ‘plenty lubed up’

yet another example (around 1:20). tuukka really was representing every bruins fan in this moment

this one feels like an unlikely friendship if i’m honest, but i’m a fanof it. this is so grinchy i’m sorry tuuks

(gif via @martieblogsstuff) definitely a favourite playoff moment -p*rron trying his best to intimidate our finnish brick wall, but tuukka is having none of it, just giving him that slightly depraved smile in return, knowing full well he could break that boy’s spine if he wanted to. i fucking love it. also sometimes i forget how sick his goalie mask is but damn it’s cool

actual question - do other teams do this christmas thing, or is it just our particular bunch of idiots? this is quite the outfit, but at last the pants match the jacket (lookin at you, brad). bonus points for matching scarf i guess

(gif via @gaudreau) i think about this literally every day of mylife. it’s fantastic. an excellent moment to show off the all round chaotic and dumb nature of the boston bruins

(gif via @lesbiandebrusk) okay real talk, i am a supporter of that white jacket,he suits it. tuukka always has this look in his eye that tells me he knows something i don’t. it makes me nervous

what in fresh hell is this… i am so uncomfortable

(gifvia @goaliefight) yes!!!! despite what shitty sports journalists have to say about him, this team loves tuukka so much. they know he saves their asses when they’re having an off day, and makes them look even better when they’re having a good one. and he loves them sm too so it’s just very sweet all round

paint me like one of your finnish goalies a quick aside about the physical spectacle that is nhl goaltenders though - they are so unreasonably flexible in a way i can’t quite express. i competed as a gymnast for almost 9 years, and some of the stuff they do blows my mind. not to mention they’re doing it all effectively wrapped in a duvet? (at least that’s how i imagine it feels with all that padding) we really don’t give them enough credit

contemplating the pros and cons of which opposing player he should brutally murder first

he is looking very pleased with himself, and rightly so

this one sent me - what a badass. tuukka does the best press stuffbecause he, apparently, just does not give a shit what he says. here he is, absolutely thrilled at only having to answer 2 questions in an interview one time

Murder Contemplation Time™

i will leave you to enjoy this young, sweaty, and windswept tuukka

thank you for the request!! i hope this did mr tuukka rask, brick wall and metallica superfan, at least partial justice becuase god knows he deserves more credit

#please god let this fucking post #this must be my 8th attempt looool #bruins photos compilations #Anonymous

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zephyrnoodles · 5 years

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Lair review for @ghostlily-fr

(tumblr won’t let me properly tag you)

A shadow clan! When I first started playing flight rising I considered joining the trickster troupe! Your clan is neatly organized, you know exactly where to find what kind of dragon. I really like your flight reps! I can’t find a single aesthetic, it’s more that every dragon has their own aesthetic. I love it! You don’t have a lot of lore, so I hope you don’t mind if I write down some ideas and headcanons for your dergs.

Let’s start. Buckle up kiddos this will be a long one. You paid for 10 dergs after all :D

1. Shackles What a handsome bog! Very shadow-y! I’m in love with starmap/constellation and bee. And I recently discovered my love for stained. Shackles combines all of that. His colors are amazing and the accent look great on him! The apparel is so glittery! and it fits his overall aesthetic! I don’t know why but he reminds me of that one smiling cat from Alice in wonderland. Mysterious, whimsical and slippery.

2. Taphrinoh Look at this red fluttery dragon man! He looks like a shard of red glass wrapped in red silk. Or a red gem, a smooth surface hidden in a velvet case. I also feel like he would be cool to the touch. He might be a dancer? Or some other kind of performing artist. He also look like he has an open ear to everyone with a weigth in their heart; he listens and offers advice if needed. He smells like strawberries.

(More under the cut)

3. Feir Oh wow I love her colors so much! The blues and oranges look so good together! She looks like a forestfire at night. She could be a field medic? She is armored but also wears some of the healer apparel. Or a first responder, the tangled woods are a dangerous place so a dragon being called to aid an injured dragon outside of the safe clan territory should be well equipped to not get hurt either.

4. Miracle Such a sunny appearance in such a shadow-y place! I imagine she almost glows in the twilight! She is kinda soothing to look at, her colors are pretty and the accent looks good on her without being busy! She looks like a very huggable dragon, who likes pretty and shiny things and is usually very cheery. You can spot her from far away because she stands out so much, being all bright and glowy.

5. Softie His name fits like... asdasf I don’t know the english version of that one german saying. It just fits perfectly. Pearl is such a soft color and I’m a big, huge fan of it. Even though the wasp gene makes him look smooth I still get the feeling that he is very much not hard-smooth but soft-smooth. Very huggable. You could sink into his mane to never be seen again. It’s a magic mane, just like the one from Lion from Steven Universe. Hatchlings play on his horns and he is overall just a big... Softie.

6. Bedivere Bedivere looks like a ghost. Something you might find in an old victorian house. A ghostly lady clad in white silk bedgowns running down the hallways, barefoot and wailing, whispering, vanishing behind a corner. Cobwebs in the corner, laughter or sobs or music behind closed doors. Not neccessarily malevolent, but not benign either. Pretty to look at, but also goosebump inducing. A cold shudder running down your spine.

7. Auridir Auridir - I imagine that the name could be derived from Aurum, the latin word for gold. This is a very pretty specimen of a skydancer. Warm colors reminding me of autumn and cinnamon. She looks like she might be some sort of glory guard (I forgot the real word for those), you know, guards who are mostly there to look pretty and regal and important. She has the chest armor, but also the precious gemstones ad the light standard.

8. Adora She looks like a real shadow girl despite being originally a nature peep. Spending enough time makes you adapt to your fellow clanmates I guess. I love the violet tones she wears. She looks really fluffy, like a noodly raven. Very pretty. She might be some sort of scout? She would def blind into the shadows of the tangled woods with her dark colors. I know I described at least two other dergs of yours as huggable but I feel like she would give great hugs too and smell like blueberries.

9. Hive A glittery noodle! I always love how the runes gene makes tertiary colors glow on most dragons! His colors look nice together with the accent, like dark ice reflecting sunlight. Does his name have a meaning? Is he a construct, home to more than one conscious? I’d love to learn more about him!

10. Duskfall I really like this one too. Ridgebacks always look like sharp angles and spines to me, the accent emphasize it. But the Starlight Guise softens this impression. She might be a witch operating during the twilight times of dusk and dawn. Not to be trifled with, but if you give her the right offerings, she might do you a favor.

#flight rising #lair reviews #dragon share #ghostlily-fr #I hope you like this!

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