#i got a bunch of sketches of him and this is one of the… less great ones but i still like it lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bopbopstyles · 1 year

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I JUST WANT A LOVER PT.2

RATING: R/smut (graphic sex, nipple play, lil holding of wrists above head)

WORD COUNT: 4.3k (and like 90% smut just for y'all b/c i couldn't stop myself i'm a slut <3 also i did not edit this sorry not sorry)

CATEGORIES: one night stand!harry

PT. 1 | MASTERLIST | TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK

a/n: SURPRISE BITCHES!!!!!! y'all loved pt1 so much that i just couldn't help myself. perhaps not my finest work, but banged this out in like two hours for you all. luv u bunches, hope this is the happy ending you wanted (plus 95% smut including some JUICY lil thangs) XOXO thank you so much for the support of IJWAL — missed y'all <3

“I have a secret.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, slotting his lower body between yours. You could feel his cock brush against your center deliciously, and it’s like it hadn’t been inside you less than twelve hours ago from the way your body lit up. “I might tell you, but only if you’re really, really nice to me.”

He nosed at your forehead with his nose, tilting your head back slightly so he could look directly into your eyes. You loved when guys could match you with banter, could be all fun and playful after a hookup. Otherwise it was just awkward. So, you played along. “Nice, hmm?” You said, lifting your hands from their spot on the sheets and trailing your fingertips up his sides.

The way Harry’s body tensed immediately caught your eye, and you loved it. The fact that you had the same effect on him that he had on you did wonders for your self esteem, and encouraged the playful fire burning in your stomach.

“Wonder how I could be nice to you,” you teased, splaying your fingers across his torso and and pressing gently into the skin, watching his abdomen muscles ripple under your pressure.

“I could think of a few ways,” he breathed out, eyes darting all over your face.

It's the morning after and they're both really into each other (still)

In the morning, you learned, Harry was far too chipper. You were usually a gremlin until you’d had at least one cup of coffee, at which point you reached everyone’s-favorite-neighborhood-grump status, and after at least two hours of being awake you were usually finally able to have a conversation without grimacing repeatedly at how much you didn’t want to speaking.

So therefore, waking up to find Harry stretched out next to you scrolling TikTok with a smile on his face was not quite your favorite start to the morning. At least, on paper. But for some reason, when he looked over and smiled at you, you couldn’t help but think you might reach your nice stage a little faster this morning.

“Morning,” Harry said, locking his phone and placing it on his bedside table. “Sleep okay?”

You pushed your hair out of your face and sat up, scooting backward until your back hit his headboard. “Apart from you being the hottest human known to man and roasting the whole night, yeah.”

He grinned at you. “Hottest, eh?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I meant temperature-wise, you idiot.”

Harry chuckled and reached over to the bedside table, grabbing a glass of water. “Here, got this for ya.” He passed it to you, fingers brushing yours as you took the glass from his grip. Even though the two of you had sex last night, you couldn’t help but notice how warm and soft his hands were, and how they sent a shiver ripping down your body.

“Thank you,” you told him, glancing around the room. Last night you’d only seen in the partial darkness, the only light while you’d been having sex coming in from the street—which was enough to see Harry in all of his glory, but not enough to make out the intricate details of his room.

It was covered in art, you quickly noticed. Not framed, valuable, and hung art, but sheets of drafting paper with sketches on them, little napkins with drawings, and smaller watercolors. You could tell that there was a recurring style of drawing and painting across the papers, but not necessarily all the same—they could’ve been done by multiple people. In the corner was a record player, an old and nice one, you thought, and a set of speakers with too many records to fit in the storage unit he had. They were in stacks on the ground next to the turntable, spines out so you could see the name of the record. That, you thought, tracked with what he’d told you—that he was a musician and worked in a record store.

At the end of the bed was his dresser, with the hem of shirts poking out from drawers and the top scattered with various items. Nail polish, a dish of tons of vintage rings, a couple of necklaces hanging from pins in the wall. A couple bottles of cologne, and a stack of books with a photo frame on top. Above the dresser was a circular mirror, and in it you could see yourself and Harry perfectly. In fact, a little too perfectly—your hair was sticking in all directions after having gotten wet in the shower and there was a rim of black from old mascara under your eyes you’d been too lazy to scrub off last night. Harry, on the other hand, looked perfect with his five o’clock shadow and pink lips begging to be kissed, hair tousled like it was meant to be like that.

You ignored your reflections, enjoying your perusal of his room, and turned to see his desk on the other wall of the room, where two large windows by New York City standards stood, letting in morning light through heavy curtains. There were papers all over the desk, black ink scribbles scattered across them, and a stack of black leather notebooks in the corner next to a cup of black pens (all the same kind, he must have a type). A computer sat on the desk, covered by paper, as well as a very fun mushroom lamp that make you smile.

“So?” You turned back to Harry, confused. “What’s your assessment?”

“Of what?”

“My room you were obviously just investigating.”

Oh. He had been watching you explore his space. “That you’re very artistic?”

He smiled, and then replied with a nod. “That’s true.”

“Are those drawings all yours?”

He shook his head. “A lot of them are my sister’s. She’s older, and sends them to me in a care package once a month. Her way of showing me the world around her. Been doing it since she was at university, so what’s up in a mixture of stuff from years. The others are mine.”

It was sweet, you thought, how close he seemed to be with his sister. “Is she an artist?”

“Nah, she’s teaching history. Unlike me, she decided that it was better to keep her artistic passions just for herself. She told me once that she didn’t believe in that whole idea that if you do something you love for your job you never work a day in your life. She told me’ It’s still work at the end of the day,’ so she just does it in her free time. Kind of jealous she can do that.”

You rotated slightly onto your side, able to look at him better “You can’t?”

“It’s funny, for a long time I never thought I’d do anything related to music. But then it was like it kept begging me to try it out. For a while I thought that my friends were playing a joke on me because every pub night I went to there was an open mic night.” You laughed at that, and he smiled at you. “And there was this feeling that the music was just spilling out of me. It would come to me at the funniest times, especially on the subway or when I was walking home, and I’d have to write it down or it’d never get out of my head. So I finally just decided to take it as a sign.”

“That’s really amazing,” You told him, meaning every word. He looked suspicious of your statement though. “To have something that you are that passionate about. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way about something. Always wanted to. Thought there was something wrong with me, even, that I didn’t have a passion like all my other friends.”

Then, Harry did the sweetest thing you’d ever had happen to you during a one night stand. He reached up and pushed a strand of hair behind your ear that had escaped, his fingertips trailing down your neck as he withdrew his hand. It was like he craved your skin as much as you where craving touching his, with his chest exposed, his many tattoos on display.

Finally, he spoke, and when he did, his voice was rougher than it had been before. “You’re not missing out,” he said. “Sometimes I wish I could shut it off. Would make life a hell of a lot easier.”

His words were so raw, so honest.

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “Isn’t this intimate for a morning after conversation.”

You laughed, pushing gently against his shoulder. “Hey, I thought it was cute.”

“Just what every man wants to hear first thing in the morning,” he answered, rolling towards you and propping himself up on his wrists so he was hovering over you. “I have a secret.”

“Oh?”

“Wonder how I could be nice to you,” you teased, splaying your fingers across his torso and and pressing gently into the skin, watching his abdomen muscles ripple under your pressure.

“I could think of a few ways,” he breathed out, eyes darting all over your face.

“Oh yeah?” You pushed at his right shoulder, forcing him back to his pillow and onto his back. With ease, you sat up and slotted your knees on either side of his hips. But you didn’t rest yourself on his body, instead you hovered above him, suddenly thankful for the pilates you’d become obsessed with lately, because your legs didn’t shake immediately. “Wonder if I could guess a couple of them.”

Harry’s eyes were wide, staring at you. His gaze was locked on your tits, which were uncovered and bare for him to see, and you loved the attention, the feeling of warm from his gaze on your body. “I think you might be onto something.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, gently lowering onto his bare cock and brushing delicately up and down on him, the friction making both of you moan. Then, you lifted right back up, hovering on your knees, with Harry staring up at you in disbelief. However, he didn’t make a sound, just watched you, mesmerized.

You reached below you and held his length in your hand, running your hand up and down, watching the muscles in his jaw clench with every stroke. Then, you lifted his tip and brushed him against your slit, which by this point was most definitely wet. And you knew he could feel it.

The sound that left his throat as you ran his tip along you slit but not inside it sent your brain into overdrive. You barely resisted the temptation to slip him inside, but you wanted to tease him, to make him beg to fuck you. That desire managed to help you hold onto your sanity as you slipped just the very smallest amount of his tip inside of you and then rose up out of reach.

The man below you whined when you lifted up, his hands curling around your thighs and tightening. “Fuck,” he breathed out. “Fuck.”

But you weren’t done. You rested his cock flat on his hips and lowered yourself down, rubbing your pussy back and forth on his length, and letting yourself get lost in the feeling. Because you could come to this feeling alone—the feeling of his skin, the warmth of him, the way his tip notched in your clit and made you bite your lip delicately. Your head dropped back and your hands crept up your body, fingers pulling and kneading at your breasts. At this point any semblance of self-consciousness had left you and you were consumed in your own pleasure, in chasing your own orgasm regardless of who was there to witness it.

In fact, if Harry’s hands hadn’t slipped under yours, you could’ve forgotten he was even there. But then his fingers crept under yours and pushed your hands off your breasts, and his own replaced yours. His fingers were rougher than yours, the tip of his thumb calloused from pressing down on his guitar strings, and you loved how it felt on your skin. The rough graze of skin on yours, and the way his hands were larger than yours and could hold more of your breasts in his hands. And then he started to knead them and your mouth dropped open a tad, just enough for a whimper to escape your throat.

“Feel good, baby?” He asked, the pet name dropping from his mouth and melting into your veins, filed away for your fantasies later, once you were truly on your own. The way it sounded coming from his lips, the way the syllable left his tongue.

His tongue. Your head perked up and you found his eyes, which were already staring at you. You wanted his tongue. You bent your head and down and his lips rose to meet yours, crashing together in the press of need and desire. His lips parted with ease when you brushed against them with the tip of your tongue, and then you had access to what you wanted. When his tongue touched yours, you curled your fingers in his hair and pulled gently, the feeling of being consumed by him taking over. Your hips were still moving back and forth, and you just needed more and more of him. It wasn’t enough.

“More,” you mumbled, pressing your forehead to his, hands on his shoulders for leverage.

“What do you want, angel?” A new pet name that you filed away.

What did you want? You thought about it for a split second and let the first thought that flashed into your mind take hold. When you needed to finish, the thing that always put you over the edge was a tad bit of pain. Your favorite, by far, when you were like this—touch starved and needy—was on your nipples, though.

So you grabbed his hands, and maneuvered them so his thumbs and forefingers caught around your nipple, and pressed the together. The pain shot through you in a delicious way—not too intense, but enough to make your pussy tighten at the sensation.

Harry let out a sound that you couldn’t place. Somewhere between a groan and a whine and the sound of your name. “That, hmm, baby? Like a bit of pain?”

You nodded so fast, not wanting him to stop.

“Fuck, okay. Tell me if it’s too much, yeah?” You nodded once more, and then you lost yourself in the feeling.

He varied the pressure, giving your nipples a break but then pressing harshly so it always felt like a jolt of pain—which is exactly what you liked. The surprise. It made your hips speed up in time, head lolling from side to side as breathy moans escaped your mouth, sounding something like his name.

You hadn’t had this feeling in a minute, and you missed it. The all-consuming feeling of chasing an orgasm with someone else, of the combination of friction and pain, your absolute favorite that never failed you.

“You are so hot,” he mumbled, quietly and almost to himself. But you heard it.

And it happened to toss you right over the edge. The pressure on your nipples was too much and you could feel how hard he was, and the wetness of you made you slide right along his ridges and fuck it was too much. You crashed into an orgasm, a fire of glory that left your body quivering, fingers tightening on Harry’s shoulders. “Fuck,” you breathed out shakily, eyes opening after the shocks quieted in your system.

They found Harry immediately, his gaze on yours. “Good?”

“Mhmm,” you answered, twirling your fingers at the nape of his neck where his hair was. “You’re good at that.”

He chuckled. “I think you’re better—nearly came watching that.”

“Yeah?” You reached down and brushed your fingertip over his tip.

His hips jolted at the touch, hands tightening from their new location on your hips. “Good lord, woman, gonna kill me.”

You cocked your head to the side. “I hope not. Was hoping to have another round.” You don’t think he realized he did it, but his tongue slipped out and wiped across his lips.

“I’d be—fucking hell.”

You’d slipped him inside of you mid-sentence, so fast he didn’t realize it. And the feeling of him inside of you was absolute fucking heaven. You were still tight from your orgasm and dripping, and he was rock hard—the triple threat meant that your body shook ever so slightly at the feeling, your sensitivity making how good he felt send you into overdrive. Gently, you rose up, slipping your ankles onto the tops of his thighs to gain leverage, and then back down.

The way he bore so deep inside of you made you groan, low and deep. And with that, you were moving without even realizing it—and then Harry was above you.

He’d flipped you on your back.

And with one look at his eyes, you knew there was no way he was going to let you move an inch. His gaze was ravenous, like a caged animal just freed. His eyes were devouring you, taking every morsel of you.

Then, he started to move.

His hips snapped forward and you cried out from how intense it was, the cry quickly turning into a flurry of moans and his name, falling from your mouth without pause as he fucked you hard. It was intense and delicious. His cock brushed so deep inside of you that it made your eyes roll back (not that you’d admit that to him), the pace he set forcing your hands to scramble across his skin to find something to hold onto. You ended up deciding on the duvet cover you’d slept under, hands above your head and fingers curled in the material, mouth dropped open in a silent scream that you couldn’t quite find the air for in your lungs because he was fucking it all out of you.

“You feel so good,” he mumbled, yet another phrase in the mess of words leaving his mouth in that low, gravely, delectable voice of his. That was quickly followed by, “Your pussy feels like heaven” and “Never leaving, I swear to God”.

Somewhere in that train of words, you realized that he was bare inside of you.

You had been the one to put him inside of you, but you had obviously been to fucked out of your mind to even realize it, because now he was completely bare inside of your pussy.

“Harry,” you said. “You forgot a condom.”

The man, to his credit, immediately stilled inside of you. “Fuck,” he mumbled. “Didn’t—how the fuck didn’t I realize that? Would like to at least be conscious when I get to feel your pussy bare for the first time.” He looked at your face. “Now I understand why you feel so good. Fuck—um, can you grab one? In the drawer on your right side.”

You looked at him, looking at you, and felt the clench of your walls around his bare cock, and made an incredibly impulsive decision. “You clean?”

“Yes,” he answered immediately. “You?”

“Yes. And have an IUD. Keep going, please—just don’t come inside.”

“Fuck,” he said, and then he resumed his relentless pace. “Promise, angel—promise I won’t. Where do you want me to come, baby?”

“My tits,” you replied without a pause, and that made the gorgeous man above you groan harshly, one of his hands traveling up your body to tweak your nipple. You let out a squeak and then a moan as he continued, obviously using his newfound novel of your kinks to his advantage.

“I love your breasts, goddamn,” he said, each word enunciated by a separate thrust.

You could feel droplets of sweat dropping onto your skin, the sign of his exertion, and you loved the feeling. Loved watching him come undone above you. Craving him deeper, you lifted your legs and curved your calves around his hips, tugging him higher up your body and deeper inside you. Both of you groaned deeply, and then he did something you didn’t expect, but were immediately intoxicated by.

He reached up to where your hands were curled in the duvet, and pushed your wrists together, and then wrapped his hand around them, holding your hands above your head. Most of his weight was in his other hand which was on the bed, so it didn’t put too much pressure on your wrists, but just enough to where you knew he was using the leverage to keep you in place. And it made your eyes flutter shut and hips arch up into him.

The combination of all of this made his pace pick up, a stream of words falling from his mouth as he fucked you hard and fast and deep, just how you wanted it. You loved how talkative he was while he fucked you, something most men weren’t.

Your second orgasm was rising quickly, rippling through your body and you couldn’t do a thing to stop it. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, those green eyes finding yours immediately. “Gonna come,” you informed him, pussy tightening as if on command.

His grip on your wrists tightened and he fucked you harder, a brutal pace that had you calling out his name, not even thinking about the fact that he definitely had roommates, because all you wanted was your orgasm, and you wanted everyone to know he gave it to you.

Just as you came, your orgasm ripping through you like an unstoppable wave, Harry pulled himself out of you and you dropped your legs immediately, knowing he was going to come. He moved up the length of you and you scooted down, out of breath and panting from your orgasm but wanting his come on your breasts anyway. He tugged twice on his length and then come was painting stripes on your skin, warm on your clammy skin.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed, hovering above you, panting.

You smiled up at him, and when his hands released your wrists you reached down, pushing a forefinger through the streaks of come on your chest. Harry watched in awe as you brought your finger to your mouth, savoring his taste—salty and delicious.

“You,” he said, eyes on your mouth. “You are amazing.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you replied, gazing up at him, wondering how you would be able to give him up. You were addicted.

Two hours later, after an Uber Eats delivery for some coffee and bagels which were consumed in bed before Harry went down on you again, pulling yet another orgasm from you, and a very heated makeout session, you were tugging on your coat in his room. Harry was pulling on a pair of pajama pants, and when he placed a pair of glasses on his nose you smiled.

“Didn’t know you wore glasses,” you told him.

“Lots of things you don’t know about me.” He moved toward you and wrapped his hands around your hips, tugging your body into his. Your mouth met his with ease, a kiss more gentle than the previous ones dancing across your lips that made you smile.

Stepping back, you said, “Thanks for breakfast.”

He nodded, and with another glance around his room, you followed him out of the bedroom and into the living room of his apartment. It was quiet—most likely his friends were either not awake still or hiding in their bedrooms. If you were his roommate, you’d definitely be hiding right now.

The apartment was cramped, like every other New York apartment, but homey. Knick knacks and proof of life were scattered across all surfaces, random scraps of paper, a guitar pick here and there, some books, a plant or two. For a couple of guys, it wasn’t too bad.

“So,” he said when you two reached the door. “I—uh—I had a lot of fun with you.”

You smiled at him, taking sincere joy in the awkwardness in his stance. He was so confident and forward all night and this morning, so seeing him like this made you grin. “I had fun too, Harry.”

He returned your smile, and reached down to curl his fingers in the top of your skirt. “Would you want to learn all those things about me?” You cocked your head at his statement, and then he quickly clarified. “That you don’t know. Like, over coffee.”

This man was asking you out on a date. A rarity for a one night stand.

Even though you’d only gotten out of a relationship relatively recently, this man intrigued you. He was funny, kind, creative, and an absolute dream in bed. And he was fucking gorgeous. The banter helped too. You looked at him, studying the gleam in his eyes, and then nodded.

“I’d love to.”

That made his smile grow even wider, and then he leaned down, attaching his lips to you in a kiss somewhere between sweet and full of desire, like he was remembering what your night held and was curious for the future. When he pulled away, he reached into his pocket for his phone. “Number, please.”

You typed in the digits as requested, and took it upon yourself to slide the phone back into his pocket, taking the opportunity to squeeze gently at his ass. It made him laugh, that laugh that lit up your body. “See you soon,” you told him, stealing one more kiss before opening the door and walking into his hallway.

He stood in the doorway, shirtless in just a pair of pajama pants, hair beautifully ruffled, and watched you walk down the hall. The whole way you could feel his eyes on you, and it made your skin sing.

Once you stepped onto the street, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Pulling it out, you glanced down to find an unknown number on your screen.

“Free at 2?”

It was noon.

You laughed into the streets of New York before replying with a Yes. The future, you thought to yourself before setting off for your own apartment, was full of possibility.

tell me what you think!!!!!! XOXO LOVE Y'ALL

#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles masterlist #harry styles

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standreamy · 2 years

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“Motivation” Part 1/2

Bonus 1 and 2 My contribution for #31dayssonic !

This is a bit roughly sketched comic. I just polished it a bit but in the end I just organised a bunch of doodles I made!

I decided to do a What-If set in the Metal Virus saga of the IDW Comics. I don’t know where it’s set precisely, because Sonic left with the others after Tangle got zombified, but in this I needed Sonic to not be with them on Angel Island. Just like I needed Tails to have the cure destroyed already and wanted it to be set a bit before the last events. More or less the point Sonic’s spirit is at his lowest.

I thought it would be super angsty and cool to have Tails zombified and make it a big event of the saga. True, it’s also cool he held on till the very last moment and helped a bunch even with the cure gone, but I am a sucker for angst and the potential for brotherly one in the comics is always so huge!

Sonic had already a lot of guilt and low sef-esteem during those events, feeling responsible of the chaos because he let Metal Sonic and Eggman go. Well, is there a bigger burden than losing your own brother to it too? And you’re the one who infected him?

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic and tails #Miles Tails Prower #tails the fox #they're brothers your honor #sonic idw #Metal virus saga #what-if #the angst is real #my fuel #it gets even sadder #but ends the same of the comics #31dayssonic

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factual-fantasy · 1 year

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24 moar asks :}

..That’s.. That’s a good point.

I’ve noticed recently that I’ve been trying very hard to get all these projects done, but I just cant seem to get past this writers/artist block.. Ingo and Emmet part 3, my FNAF AU, the Rosalina comic.. all of it has just felt really draining. I think its because I’m turning these projects into work, instead of a fun hobby.

I actually was working on the Petey Piranha comic last night, but I just couldn’t get past the sketching stage. So I took a break to draw what ever I wanted and.. I had a lot of fun.

I think I’ve overwhelmed myself thinking I have to do all these projects and get them done quickly for.. what ever reason. And its made art really draining.

I think I’m gonna take all of my projects (aside from my FNAF AU) and just. Put them on the shelf for now. I’ll draw them if I ever feel like it.

Thanks for the little push anon.

When ever I want. And it’ll be what ever I want :}

@aemered

If you see that someone has reposted my art and you want to do something about it, first of all thank you very much that’s really kind of you-

SECOND OFF, report it if you can. If you cant then leave a comment saying its stolen and link back to my tumblr or just mention my name. Thanks again! Its really cool that you’d want to do that for me- 💕😭💕

I had planned that he could eat a fire flower and spit out a fire ball, but I later took away that ability. Yoshi ain’t got no fire powers :(

They do exist, and Bowser does care about them.. but he doesn't show it as much as he does in canon. He’s a lot more stern and ruler like. A lot less touchy feely you know?

The idea is that the 1-UP mushroom has fully left Mario’s body. So any effects or pain he experiences all lies in his trauma related to the incident.

Now, if Luigi were to die and be revived by a 1-UP? It would be the same. If the experience was traumatic and he suffered a horrible injury, he would probably deal with phantom pains too..

@tempestrio

For most of them I just referenced clothing that relates to the attraction/style they have in the game.

For Chica I looked up kids rock star costumes and took reference of what I thought looked good. For Bonnie I looked up old vintage bowling ally shirts and referenced the one that looked closest to his canon shirt. For Foxy I referenced pirate coats and costumes. For Monty I looked up old golfing outfits and picked out aspects that I liked and mixed it with punk/rock and roll. For Roxanne I referenced punk rock I think..? And old racing fire suits.

For Freddy though I mostly made it up.. but I looked at a bunch of different artists that made redesigns for Freddy and tried to capture the vibe of the ones I liked. Mostly the collar on his coat was something a lot of those artists drew-

For Gregory I just gave him a new outfit based on the story. When he went back to the Pizzaplex his clothes were dirty and worn.. so Freddy went and got him new clothes from one of the gift shops. So I went to google and referenced the sweaters and clothes you find throughout the game and gave him stuff that looked similar. Hope this helped! :}

There is! But its not that deep don’t worry-

When I was designing my sona, I wanted something on my hands. At the time my hands were covered in Band-Aids due to cat scratched and dry/cracked skin. So I thought hey! I could have bandaged hands! So I added them.

They also work if you call them my “artist hands” lol-

No, thank YOU for engaging with my content and sending me lovely messages! :D

@thedorkyidiot

Oh he’s in the AU, he’s probably one of the smaller gorilla types that just kind’a vibes and does old man stuff. He probably has to eat the sweeter fruits though because his jaw isn’t so strong anymore. Much to his dismay..

She didn’t cause any problems per say, the Toads didn’t even know she existed. Although she does create these shooting stars every time she comes to the planet.. but that doesn’t bother the Toads either, In fact they celebrate them. So the toads have no issue with Rosalina.

Also she apologized to Mario and Luigi for “disturbing” them because they heard her crying and they went to investigate. :(

And thank you! I’m glad you like my interpretations! :D

Well you’re in luck! My FNAF AU is the only project I plan to not drop and keep working on! Hahaha!... haaahhhh

(Also thank you very much that was very sweet 😭)

@shannonallaround

I don’t actually have a specific name that I tag my AU under.. but if you were to search “mario” in my blog search you’ll find just about every Mario related post I’ve ever made. AU and not AU.

Not yet.. 👀

The reason why Mario experiences phantom pain is because his first death was very traumatic for him. So whether or not he experiences phantom pains with his future deaths all depends on how he died, and how it effected him mentally.

Same goes for Luigi. If he dies a horribly painful/traumatic death.. he’ll likely experience phantom pains too..

@color-craz

There was a comic planned for how they met him actually.

They got lost in the woods and stumbled upon King Boos mansion. Like an idiot Mario goes in and Luigi follows. They both ended up getting tormented and pranked by the Boos. They were separated at one point but then met back up on the second floor. Mario sees a fire flower in an old flower pot and grabs it.

As soon as he becomes fire Mario.. the entire mansion goes completely silent..

Then, all the windows and doors slowly shut. Some of the lights come on and Mario and Luigi follow them. They follow the lights down the hall, down the stairs, through the main room and wind up led to the front door..

The front door is wide open. Mario and Luigi walk out.. only for the door to slam shut behind them. Locking them out.

Mario harnessing a fire flower was so bizarre, so impossible! That King Boo knew he was outmatched against him. So King Boo just silently let them out of the mansion without a fuss.

@mysteriousl0ser

I’m not sure how they would react to the Koopalings, but I imagine they wouldn't hurt them. It doesn’t take a genius to tell that the Koopalings are just kids..

As for their behaviors.. I think its close to the canon interpretations, except for Ludwig and JR. I had planned that Ludwig was going to be much bigger and more stern like his pa. Because he is the heir to the throne.. but then google told me that Roy is the oldest so there goes that plan-

For JR though his plans stick. JR is supposed to be smaller and younger. More like a toddler then a kid. He’s the youngest and the one Bowser is most protective of.

@gravitystar96

Thank you! I’m glad you like my AU! :D

As for if anyone will find Gregory.. I haven’t planned if anyone will or who it will be. Although it will likely be Chica or Monty.

Since Chica is so close to Freddy, she is bound to find out about this entire child that he has kept secret-

As for Monty.. I liked the idea of Gregory hiding for some reason.. and he calls for Freddy through his fazwatch in a panic. After a few minutes he hears big thumping plasticky foot steps approaching. He comes out of hiding thinking its Freddy..

But it was Monty.

I made them brothers because I could :}

Although I’m questioning it now. Maybe they could just be friends. They could just be two idiots who found each other and decided to reek havoc together.

Oooor they could be brothers., Hmm.. I’ll have to give it some more thought XD

If Bowser had gone straight for Luigi, first of all he would have to land a fatal blow twice. Because the power of the Ice Flower would Protect Luigi from one big hit. That’s actually why Mario died in one shot. Because the Fire Flower had just run our of power.

But anyway- after loosing the ice flower and getting hit? Luigi would just die.. and stay dead. Only Mario had consumed a 1-UP mushroom at that point..

I imagined them as these strange monsters that live in the woods. They don’t work for Bowser, or Peach, they just do their own thing. I also imagined them to deal with dark magic and rituals and stuff.

Wanna hear how Mario and Luigi first met one?

The plan was that the bros and Yoshi were exploring when they found a shy guy with its leg caught in a tree root. Mario carefully approached to try and help.. but the closer he got. The longer and more deformed the shy guy became.

Yoshi ended up snatching them both up and running away. Mario mysteriously had a fever that lasted for a few days after that..

Me waiting for my platonic kiss on the forehead be like:

My favorite character? Oooo that’s a good question. There’s a lot to choose from.. but one of my favorites is Hal Monitor. Always love it when he’s on screen XD

I actually like stupid Mario sometimes, he’s pretty funny XD

So far my favorite arc is the lawsuit arc. Mostly because I’m not caught up on the other arcs. The little nuggets of Mario angst/wholesomeness we got in that arc was delicious XD

@spencer-the-fox-87

If the Monkeys were to eat the red beets they would gain more muscle mass overtime. But its not a matter of them not being able to eat them, they just don’t like them.

The blue fruits are very sweet and juicy, and the beets are dry and bitter. The kongs that like bitter flavors eat the beets and grow to be huge. and overtime they develop a dislike for sweet tastes. And vice versa.

#my response #mario #fnaf security breach

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hyukabean · 2 years

Text

hwang hyunjin as your bf (headcanons)

req – for my youth pastor simp <3 @yejiimg

nana's notes – speed wrote this cause inspo <3 all my other wips are… eh not happy with them yet

warning(s) – does jealousy count??

unedited.

how you met .｡.:*☆

i feel like you’d meet through lily, hear me out

nmixx is still a rookie group, and the budget is definitely a lot lower than some of the big names under jype

they can’t really afford to always pay staff full time, so they decided to hire a bunch of interns, for much less pay ofc

being a college student though, you don’t mind, and decide to take the job!

being able to speak english with lily would definitely make her feel more at ease when she’s stressed and so on

with time, y’all become besties~

you’ll wait for her after she’s done working, and sooner rather than later, you become a known face

felix invites her out for boba one day, and she takes you with her cause why not?

a few months in, i can also see you getting close to the skz aussie line, even if you don’t constantly hang out (cause jypapi’s got chan in his dungeon-)

hyunjin needed inspo for his new painting, and so felix is, “hey, meet my friend, they’re kinda cool”

and hyunjin’s like?????? no???????????

but ofc he end up saying yes anyways

ngl bby would be hella awkward and shy. but not like the stuttering mess, more like the o-o, i’m watching you

lily would just laugh awkwardly, and continue speaking to you

trying to “ignore” him, you do the same

but then he’s like !! woah. they’re kinda pretty… and look at their shiny eyes… oh and the lines when they smile

jinnie would def start drawing without even noticing.

by the end of it, you all just kind of part ways, not having gotten much closer

he’d ask felix for your number though, and send you the sketch with a lil, ‘sry about last time… but, can i draw u again?’

ofc you’re super flattered and agree *cue felix and lily evil chuckling*

it would take a long time for him to trust, and get close to you, but after your there, you’re in

it would genuinely just be friendship at first, but when your birthday rolls around and he sticks a letter and a painting of you in your hands before leaving?

yeah, you’re definitely in-in now. (that’s what she said-)

pros .｡.:*☆

okay, 100% the pet name privileges

he’s not suuuper affectionate with the other members, save for felix, so when he starts doing little things like: calling you princess, feeding you, actually texting you back, no one knows how to respond

hyunjin is definitely a secret hopeless romantic, and so it’s no surprise that he draws inspiration from romantic things, aka, you <3

def has lil sketches of you laying around

constantly takes secret candid pictures of you, and re-drawing them, knowing full well he’ll never be able to encapsulate all of your beauty

free dance lessons. he would offer to teach you anything.

loves seeing you have fun <3 loves seeing you (full stop)

tbh he’d cringe a bit if you’re awkward, but would also lovingly guide you, recounting all the steps for you~

by far the #1 hyunjin bf privilege is getting to back hug him and getting forehead kisses as a thank you

no matter who’s around, how tall you are, how much you weigh, if you’ve got acne or not, none of it matters.

tldr. bby’s a major simp for you <3

last but not least, you get all of his hoodies. it gets to a point where, if you’re not wearing something matching, he straight up just makes you wear his clothes, no questions asked

but don’t you dare tease him about it, he’ll ignore you for a solid 3 hours straight

affection gets it’s own section muahahah

cons .｡.:*☆

jealousy. though it’s not allllways a bad thing. it can get pretty rough. essentially, there’s two types:

1) the ‘cute’ jealous

hyunjin’s english is pretty good, but his confidence isn’t always the highest (which it definitely should be wtf-)

so he does get a bit :< seeing you and felix, or lily talk so freely with each other

and though, again, he understands, he can’t always respond

so, whenever he’s put in that situation, he sulks and goes to his room

which in itself isn’t reeeaally an issue, but communication definitely something he needs to work on in a relationship

anyways, you sneak after him one day, and find him studying english using text books:(

ofc you confront him and you’re like ??? why didn’t you ask me:(( and he’s like :(((((( sry bby

2) the ‘not so cute’ jealous

as mature as i think hyunjin is, he’s not always open to talking about what bothers him

this would often lead to petty arguments, empty but hurtful words, or just radio silence.

often the members would try and help, but controlling his jealousy when he sees you with someone else, or doing something, whatever it may be, is something he should fix

and he’s well aware of it.

this wouldn’t be a problem too too often

but once it’s there, it’s there

once you reassure him over and over and over again, and he realizes it’s really his insecurities that fuel this arguments, he’d better himself

getting there takes a while though

affection .｡.:*☆

as for affection..:

i think it’s goes one of two ways

either his s/o is also a ‘tsundere’, or they’re super affectionate

if they’re the former, he’d would 100% get along with them

they’d get the feeling of not wanting to be touched 24/7 but not minding it from time to time

though if they’re equally as prideful as his is, you’ll need to compromise on who asks first

overall though 10/10 would love someone similar to him

if they’re suuuper affectionate… they’ll need to tread on eggshells for a while

not because he doesn’t love them, but just because he’s someone who doesn’t feel the need to be touchy all the time

when he’s in that mood, he’s 1000000% going at it, kisses hugs everything

but when he’s not, he needs space (back it up bestie)

again, you’ll need to compromise

either way, you’ve seen him around felix, he wouldn’t ever leave you touch starved;)

habits / miscellaneous .｡.:*☆

playing w/ your fingers cause they’re pretty

giving you head pats cause he likes telling you you’ve done well without actually having to say it

would give you a promise ring <3

hyunjin would love having you sleep over

it’s here the affection side of him would come out the most

he’d leech on to you, and just mwahmwahmwah in his sleep

also would watch you sleep if he woke up first (…that sounded a lot less weird in my head-)

over all, 10/10 would recommend to a friend;)

#[📁] – nana’s files #skz headcanons #stray kids headcanons #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #Hyunjin headcanons #stray kids x reader #bf headcanons #skz x reader #headcanons #kpop headcanons #lee felix #lily #nmixx #fluff #angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst

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alice-angel12x · 1 year

Note

I wonder what NRC's reaction would be meeting life for the first time?

Let's set the scene:

Far away deep in the hidden celestial forest, lies a hidden grotto. In the center was a simple shack, and inside was the god of Origin, Life. In the shack, tools and instruments lay scattered across the ground. On many shelves were both finished and unfinished clay sculptures. Beings that were not given the flames of life just yet. Around a cauldron were many different potions, herbal editions, and a large assortment of plants. And at the sketch table sat life. Paper and blueprints were scattered around him, all with failed Ideas of new life. The God Life sat and stared blankly at the blank parchment. He was having the work creative block, and the only thing he could draw was love hearts around a doodle of the apple of his eye, Y/n Death.

"Where did you disappear to this time Y/n," Life sighed in loneliness.

Life held out his hand as his staff floated over to him. With a soft tap, the staff tilted so that the orb was right in front of him. A couple of Sugar gliders helped him as they brought assortments of herbs and potions. Life gathered the ingredients into his hands and crushed them together. With a gentle breath, Life blew the ingredients into the orb.

The liquid in the orb began rapidly changing color, and swirling in the orb. In the light, Life saw an image of a castle with many statues.

"Night...Raven...College?" Life asked.

------------------------------------------------------------------

(1 week later)

'' Well, this looks like the place,'' Life said as he stepped through the gate.

As he walked through he saw the statues of 7, each one he remember when they were just clay in his workshop. Though he was happy that they should so much talent, though he wished they used their talents differently.

As he walked toward the school, a bunch of Savanaclaw students stood in his way. They towered over them, as they took in this stranger's appearance. The lamb ears, Deer antlers, and tail, immediately identified him as an herbivore beastmen. Yet they have never seen one with hooved feet.

Life was unfazed by the intimidation attempt, and simply observed them till he finally spoke up.

"Excuse me gentlemen, but I am looking for a friend of mine. I think they attend this school?" Life asked politely.

"Did you hear him?" Student A mocked.

"Gentlemen, He thinks he's so fancy," Student B laughed.

Life just stared in surprised disappointment, just questioning what is up with these generations of Humans and Beastmen. The poor God thinking these boys were a lost cause decided to ask for help from someone else. Someone less, beastly.

"Well, I guess you don't have the answers I seek. I wish you a good day, young fledglings," Life bowed as he tried to walk around the delinquent boys.

But the delinquents didn't let him pass as they grabbed him by the antlers. The commotion got the attention of many of the other students.

"I bet you are an RSA spy," Student C spat.

"Yeah you and your posh classmates," Student A growled.

Life winced slightly but didn't cry out in pain even after the harsh tug. The accusation of this antlered person sparked a rivalry flame, as the students gathered around. Cheering for the students to bet up the "RSA" guy.

Life looked around with a disappointed glare. "Please let go of my Antler. Grabbing someone like this is incredibly rude," Life said calmly, but sternly.

Sadly this only annoyed the aggressive students, as one tried to through through a punch. But Life quickly yanked his head, pulling the boy holding his antlers off his feet. To slam the boy into his attacker. The third guy tried to guy Life from behind, but Life used the bottom of his staff and jabbed him hard in the stomach. When the boy clutched his tummy, life flipped his staff to use the hook to throw the boy in front of him.

The first boy tried his luck again, only for Life to kick him hard in the jewels with his powerful legs. The crowd cringed as they could feel the pain just by watching. Student B growled at Life baring his teeth, only for the being to return in kind. Showing just how much larger and sharper his carnivore teeth are.

Life grabbed the student by the collar of his shirt and effortlessly lifted the muscular boy off the ground.

"I wish to ask again. I am Looking for Y/n of Death," Life said gravely.

Suddenly Life dropped the boy as someone jumped down between them. When the dust cleared Life could see who this was.

"Life?" asked a familiar voice.

"H-hey, Y/n you know that...guy?" Ace asked.

"Yes, he is a good friend of mine. He is the very embodiment of life itself-" Y/n was suddenly cut off When they were pulled into a sudden bear hug.

"Death, it's so good to see you, I missed you so much," Life gushed as he rubbed his cheek against theirs.

Y/n didn't seem bothered, but Everyone was just having a huge cause of emotional whiplash.

#Falling Pegasus answers #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #Death Au #Death!reader

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12pt-times-new-roman · 1 year

Text

lore! lore! lore!

This thing bears way too many resemblances to both Obann, the Punished and Cognouza for it to be a coincidence. The mini even looks the same. And both of those are directly related to Tharizdun.

For anyone wondering, because I had to look this up -- Imogen has resistance to psychic damage from a 6th level aberrant mind sorcerer ability. It also gives her advantage on saving throws against charm and fear effects.

"I'm gonna cast....... blight." the entire top table immediately looked up at that. they know.

"It's trying to find a form, but can't." Semblances of the party's faces can be seen beneath the skin, like a head under fabric.

ARBY'S: WE READ THE MEATS

A close second to "Arby's: What's in the meats?"

Them not putting out this fire when Matt has given so many hints that they should is legit hurting my rogue-playing soul a little bit

The illusory wall follows the same rules as the doors in Aeor: it requires a certain level (and possibly school) of magic to open. A 3rd level enchantment opened it. Behind it is a little cubby with a leather satchel, and it isn't trapped.

Deanna has a staff of healing!

Holy shit, that wolf king mini is fucking amazing and terrifying and I love him

As Ludinus' tower burns, the Bells Hells flee into the city, then into the forest. They find a large abandoned nest, where they build a fire to camp for the night.

They open the satchel. Inside, it's "empty" -- but it's a bag of holding. Upon asking for "Ludinus' notes," FCG brings out a cluster of vellum and parchment, some sections of half-bound journals.

"Toy transfers out of Rexxentrum"?? Chetney??? Got a bag of holding from a "credible source" within the city?

And he turns the bag inside out. There are coins, gems, a staff, more papers, and half a piece of armor.

All the papers are blank. Using the same technique as before, plus an Investigation check of 22, Chetney can see that these papers have something written on them, but can't make anything out, let alone discern what language it is.

It seems like this satchel was either a rainy-day fund, or "something left behind when the owner left in a rush." The coins and gems together amount to a little less than 3000gp.

There's also a tiny piece of dark burgundy wood. "It's a dildo!" "NO!"

The armor looks like a harness of some kind, like a torso harness. (Matt walked right into that one.) It's mostly dark-stained leather, and it's almost a vest, but it has a brass-gold inlay on it and it looks like where some of that metal is, it continues into an "emerging, arisen portion, almost like a... it rises like a metallic volcano, like an open funnel, but there's an empty space there." They're not sure if it's the front or the back, but it seems like there's space for something to fit in -- a gem (though none of the gems in the bag fit it), a vial, a beacon.

With detect magic, the armor is faint, the burgundy wood is faint, the staff is very strong. The staff is a "staff of dark oddessey," which has 8 charges that can be used to cast a whole bunch of spells. It requires attunement by a spellcaster. It has teleport, which can be cast using 6 charges. It regains 1d4 charges each day at dawn, and when it's used, it deals 1d4 to the user for each charge expended.

All the papers have a script that Deanna can see and read. LORE TIME! LET'S GO!

"The first bath of notes seem to be revolving around experiments on divine magic. Attempts to distill the base nature of divinity as an energy that can be replicated or destroyed... you also see notes that have designs, sketches, almost engineered blueprints for that strange harness that you saw. This is not in elven -- the text here is specifically arcane glyphs, like it's instructions for an enchantment. There are some notes in elven that follow those initial blueprints that speak of a physical regiment of magical infusion. As you continue on, they note on a synthetic recreation of the powerful natural magics that sustain the venerable wardens of the wilds. Beyond that, there are addition notes on dryads and fey, different fey entities that have locations throughout Wildemount, with eight crossed off... notes about 'feeding the root.'"

A nat20 investigation check to follow Ludinus' shorthand logic. "These notes are definitely batched with this harness. They are the next stage past its design. These are the resources needed for it to function. The dryad and fey entities, the locations that have been crossed out, are probably powerful dryad or fey entities that have, in the past, been discovered and utilized to power whatever this harness was supposed to be... the way it's designed, everything seems to funnel inward, so you imagine whatever resources presented into that portion of the device is funneled into that portion of the device. The last bit of notes speak of expanding his 'restoration sources' into the fey realm." So Ludinus was feeding this harness with fey and dryad magic. Travis clarifies that the elven word for "root" here refers specifically to the root of a plant, not the root of a phenomenon. Keep in mind that this was all written over 300 years ago.

"Oh my god, this Gildamesh motherfucker is grabbin' Smurfs!"

One of the marks delineating a fey-ish fane is "deep in the northeastern part of the Flotket Alps, one is in the lake deep in the Rimeplains, three are in the Savalirwood (though it's referred to here as the Veluthil), one within the Ashkeeper Peaks, and one that exists on an island to the northwest, past the waters." oh I will be COMING BACK TO THIS, JUST YOU WAIT

Best that they can tell, the portion of this chestplate that extends outward has an almost diamond-shaped gap. This probably rules out a Luxon beacon, because each of its sides is a pentagram.

The next cluster of notes is "about Ruidus, the red moon. Studying its curious superstition and religious scripture imploring its curse over Exandrian fanes and magical currents... he makes a lot of assumptions that the great temples fear this moon, and he wishes to know why. He theorizes that the gods continue to push to not even question or look in its direction, and you can see where this study is an obsession... for all the great shadows and villains that have been written about through the scriptures of history, there have been deep understandings to inform the populace of faith that what exists in evil should be understood so it can be avoided. But this is the one thing that exists int he skies of Exandira that the gods just say, 'look away.' That has been something on his mind since Moalesmyr. He notes the odd flares, odd notes mentioning the historical Ruidisborn. He quietly curses that he was not born under, wishing for the gods' fate. He hopes to employ a communion ritual timed under a flare to understand and decipher it. He talks about forgotten gods, about divine unravelling, of an ancient primordial that wasn't sundered after the Founding, all these theories of the red moon trying to ascertain its nature. Another entry complains of the Emerald Cross priests undermining his research, but he still managed to contact something, like reaching into an alien dream. He can't quite reach it yet -- it exists on the peripheries, and needs something stronger to break through."

The third and final batch of notes is "on the slowly expanding chaotic nature of the arcane crystals that form the power well beneath Molaesmyr. It notes of Aramond, who theorized that the well was a gift from the Archeart that was lost in the Calamity and rediscovered in the founding of Molaesmyr. Others believed it to be of Arcanum descent, fallen from one of the floating cities... harnessing this long-buried power source interests Ludinus' endeavor. In his final notes, he theorizes that if this crystal well is focused through his design without them knowing, while Ruidus is above during the solstice, he hopes a channel of consciousness could be opened, and that which is calling his attention to the red moon could be contacted."

Laura connected the dots! Maybe this "well" was a collection of Luxon beacons, or a singular one that was somehow elevated -- whether by unleashing or by malfunction -- beyond the power we've seen so far, or one that was infused with the divine magic of the Archeart, or any number of other things.

End of lore dump

Chetney on Rexxentrum: "there's a king, but we know who's really in charge."

The party contemplates who they should take this information to. The king and queen of Uthodurn, the king of the Dwendalian Empire, the Vellum Steeple, Vasselheim, Ivodel...

And Imogen suggests the Cobalt Soul. (please. i am begging. also, Fearne and Imogen being absolutely enamored and turned on by Beau's abs and ass is absolutely peak)

Goddamn, I thought I would never see the day-- SAM being the voice of reason, and TRAVIS being the lying voice of chaos?? I mean, at least Fjord had some kind of logic to his voice of "fuck it we ball," but Chetney's straight-up lying!

Hey, there we go! Religion check on "emerald cross priests." FCG recognizes that some of the symbology of the Archeart leans on cross designs and verdant colors, so the "Emerald Cross Priests" may have been a faction of their worship. This tracks, since Molaesmyr itself was built on the belief that its location was protected and preserved from the 100-year fire by Corellon themself.

They decide to sleep in the abandon nest instead of teleporting, and Imogen and FCG are set to dive into Frida's mind using a dual detect thoughts.

oh my god Christian had matching sweaters made. he gets one in FCG's colors and gives Sam one in Frida's colors. my heart can't take this. gift giving as a love language is so special to me.

Into Frida's thoughts! (Deanna cries in Chetney's arms.)

First, it's a familiar space for FCG, but for Imogen, it feels like a waiting room. It's different, organized, segmented, separate -- unlike organic minds. Even FCG's mind leans more into the chaotic space of organic brains, while Frida's has a clarity.

The three of them come to rest in a room, and FCG and Imogen see Frida as a mist, standing before a doorway waiting to be opened. Through it, it's like being pulled down a lazy river. It's dreamscape, comfortable -- "a trek through a consciousness where you pick up memories. A waking moment, a hooded figure with a metallic mask rousing them from a dark, closed space. (Imogen recognizes them as D.) Struggle, survival in a harsh wilderness, wandering through unfamiliar streets and fear in the eyes of people as the consciousness of Frida steps, seeking connection but being fled from. You see children, playing, and that protective energy swelling, and that fear fades. You see the laughter and smile on Deanna's face over a cooking fire, the polishing of armor. A smattering of memories, but much like FCG's -- a fresh existence. It's like peering into the memory of a child, though there is a more extended, sourceless confidence and maturity."

Frida focuses on the names that he heard in the tower -- Laerryn, Vatora, Vishtaron, the child that FCG saw -- and (with a straight d20 roll of 5) Frida gets lost in the current. Memories begin to bleed into images of the child from before. "You have images that completely envelop the horizon for just a moment, of warfare. Of weapons, of people being cut down, then back to the river. [Frida] has had these dreams, rarely -- but it couldn't have been you, right?"

When Frida looks down, they see the river of energy that pulls them through the memories, and it obscures the lower part of their body. But they see their spiritual self, a bipedal entity of energy.

FCG and Imogen try to push deeper into Frida's memories.

NAT 20 FROM LAURA, and Matt makes a roll with a glance at Frida. They feel a pain in their mind, like a headache even though they've never had one -- the pain builds, and the others see the image of Frida fold and emit white light.

"That flash of warfare seems to emerge once again. It's less a battlefield -- stone hallways, bodies on the ground. Somebody rushes out of a room, and you watch as they fall to the ground. Standing before them is the spiritual form of Frida. A warrior, cutting through enemies in some sort of a structure. A very beautiful, unrecognizable structure... [Frida pushes forward, not knowing who's a friend, who's an enemy.] Some have brown and gold robes with gentle leather chestplates or armor. Some are preparing to cast spells before a blade catches their throat. A soldier runs up with a spear and shield toward Frida, who takes a hit before grabbing the spear and breaking the soldier's neck before pushing forward... [for Frida], it's an odd experience, like you're riding another person's experience. [Frida feels this is right. They know an objective when they see one. They keep going. They roll a d20, for a 10.] The details are fuzzy, but the people around you -- you begin to realize, it's not you pushing into a stronghold, you're defending. But the people you're fighting at the sides of and the people you're fighting against aren't dressed all that differently, and you feel a sadness at what must be done. You are not fighting an enemy from outside -- you are fighting an enemy from within."

Behind Frida, they see what they're defending: a beautiful structure, long halls, tall arched sealings with pipes or metallic tubes. The floors and walls are metallic, polished. Very much like the description of the A2 crash site, with the metal walls and "plastic" tubes. Frida is defending whatever's behind them, and they turn back toward it. Others go past them -- "what are you doing? Where are you going?" The hallway goes on, and on, and on as individuals walk past. The hall widens, and they see a central, massive chamber where "there is a contraption of such immensity, you've never considered or seen something on this scale. All manner of glowing crystalline devices and whirring mechanical devices, funnels and tubes and glass domes, sparks and dozens upon dozens of architects and engineers and magical practitioners all focused in this space. A voice shouts in Aeorian, 'protect the factorum!'"

The room carries a buzz, a hum that grows to a growl. "An engine of such immensity within this space that the chamber itself, the ground beneath you, vibrates and shakes. Stones and fallen instruments just move and cascade across the ground by the immensity of what is growing. The crystals are alighting. The space itself is preparing for something incredible. Then, it's just white." Everyone takes 8 points of psychic damage (no save, no roll to hit, no nothing) as they are shunted out of the vision.

Chetney puts the dots together, between the malleus factorum and the malleus keys. In Aeor, Frida was defending it from assault. Frida remembers one thing: "when you were discovered by D, you were ruined... he didn't just resuscitate you, he repaired you, brought you back from the brink of annihilation and set you free."

Frida was drawn to Aeor, and Deanna implies that that's why they went to Eiselcross.

Imogen recognizes some similarities between the energy signature, the structure, the vibrations between the malleus factorum and the malleus key -- but the key in Marquet was far smaller, far less powerful, far less immense.

Chetney recognizes that the crystals in the malleus factorum are distinctly different than the arcane batteries on the malleus key.

Facets of the clothing was semi-recognizable to FCG, but nothing about the location or the project rings a bell. Travis and Aabria suggest that FCG was in Avalir, not Aeor, hence why they recognize the clothing but not the location.

"Xhorhassian"? Deanna, where the fuck did that come from??

Deanna and Frida were in Eiselcross because Frida felt drawn to Aeor's central ruins, like Imogen felt drawn to Ruidus.

Frida feels a twinge of memory at the back of their head at the names Laerryn, Vishtaron, and Vatora, but they don't know why. But they know they were protecting the creator hammer -- whether it was because they believed in the anti-god sentiment, believed wholeheartedly in Aeor itself, or were going along with their orders.

(Meta note: Aabria says she "saw a room full of people doing what one person did" in relation to Laerryn.)

Chetney gives Frida a little wooden robot! It moves and everything. "A pillar of protection and I feel a connection to you, because you protect children and I bring joy to children with these [toys]." Fearne tries to comfort them too -- "you were being commanded then, but now, you're free to do what you want." The cast makes the connection between "Frida" and "free to."

I'm honestly loving the suggestion that Morri and Ludinus are exes, and that's part of why the Nightmare King hates him so much.

"But wherever we go... what about you two?" FCG.... honey.......

Deanna feels like Frida is moving on, and she's afraid of being left behind again. They have FCG now, and all of them have a mission, and maybe she should go back to Uthodurn -- no. Chetney's with her. They would've been swiss cheese, would've been ground meat without her. "I just don't want anything to happen to you." "I... made something for you, too." It's a little cup, like the ones they used to drink out of on the Menagerie Coast.

"Just-- a real quick question-- is the werewolf thing only for fighting?" "Y'know... there's... only one way to find out." "(full of sarcasm and irony) Help. Chetney has gone feral. Oh no. Anyone. Preferably Fearne, if you're into that. Help. The safe word is parmesan." And Chetney, Deanna, and Fearne run off into the woods.

Oh, how far Travis has come. This is character development. and it's canon now, fuckers!!

Now, they need to find out where to teleport. Uthodurn, Rexxentrum, Jrusar, Whitestone, Bassuras, Zephrah -- they could go anywhere. But they need to find out where the other group would think of to meet up.

FCG casts commune. And Matt does make an interesting point -- "should we go here" is different than "should we go here to accomplish this task."

As they cast the spell, they feel their consciousness rise "to a space within all horizons, at a crossroads, paths spreading out from you in all directions that converge here. There's a sign post, and it's blank. On the sides your vision, you see strands of hair, and you turn, and you see once more a feminine form upon the same horizon. She looks two inches tall, two miles tall, you can't tell -- it's strange. But she's present. [Hi. First of all, thank you, for all your guidance and for sending me Frida. We're trying to find our other friends, and we're wondering if we go to Jrusar, if we would have a chance to find them there at some point.] While previously, there was an inference of an answer, this time you hear a voice on the wind. 'Yes.' [Are they alive, Changebringer? Are they okay?] 'Yes.' [Even if I never know about my past, even if I never find out who made me or why I'm here, will I know Frida for a long time?] The wind picks up, and blows past.. the answer challenging to write, when the future has not been... In an immediate rush, this towering woman appears before you, her dark skin, her light brown hair that entangles around you. Her presence is bold, terirfying in proximity, her eyes these golden, open spaces, an intensity about her presentation as she looks upon you. 'A terrible fate looms for all of Exandria. An alien malice menaces the skies of the Marquesian sands. If you indeed wish to show your faith, to walk my endless paths beyond, then rise to our call. The winds of change blow cold against us all, yet hope remains unmoving in you. Our grace guides those who carry our banner. Hold it high, and traverse the path that I alight with purpose and fated destination. Do not turn from this road, for only shadow and solitude awaits beyond.' The light on the horizon grows cold, she grows more immense, you feel even more insignificant. 'The red end stirs in its slumber. Do not let it wake.' And she looks over her shoulder, and you see the distant gleam of the red moon, before--"

At the same time, the rest of the party watches as a sudden, almost sleepiness comes over Deanna. "Deanna, you sit for a second, before suddenly, this bright light fills your consciousness, the immensity of a star burning before you, something you've not experience at this proximity in some time, and comes with it a strength and a frustration long-felt. You try your best to avert your gaze, but the source of this light burns your retinas, and there you see before you the Dawnfather, encompassing the sky, nothing but his light. 'Mortal arrogance makes union with a forbidden scourge. The ruddy moon beckons over the skies of Marquet. Child, reborn of my grace and my will, I command you: strike out against those who would snuff our light. The gifts I grant you are the sword and shield against the darkness. Forsake these gifts, ignore our charge, and be abandoned... faith needs not logic, nor truth, but unerring conviction... the red end stirs in its slumber. Do not let it wake.'"

There is a warmth to the coin in FCG's hand, and it looks shinier. They identify it as a "coin of the Changebringer," and it... does a lot of things, according to Sam. (I bet it's an improved amulet of the devout +1, which by default gives them an extra use of channel divinity per day.)

Deanna gives Chetney her ring of temporal salvation. This is a ring that, when the wearer would die, instead they're healed for 3d6 hit points.

She also identifies the little piece of wood as a tuning fork for the planeshift spell, which is tuned to the fey realm.

Chetney took orders directly from the Cerberus Assembly. He made enchanted furniture. Allegedly. (This is a reference to C2E48/49, if anyone doesn't know.) Also, "RTA" may or may not stand for "Rexxentrum Toy Authority." Most of them were fine -- Ludinus was an ass, and Traversky was his best customer. This means that Chetney likely knows Delilah Briarwood by name, and knows her...... toy preferences.

Using the rod, they all teleport to Xhadana's house.

#critical role #note watches c3 #critical role spoilers #critical role campaign 3 #critical role c3 #critical role liveblog #holy shit this is so much longer than I expected it to be #I swear I tried to just summarize the lore but I got carried away!!#long post

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 years

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The Interrogation

Summary: Andy just wants to get to know his company a little better. Andy Barber x Black Reader, BiBi Barber, RoRo Barber

Warnings: Girl!Dad Andy, Fluff, Annoyed Reader, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: This drabble is a part of my Growing Pains Series. Likes, comments, and Reblogs make my day! Thanks for reading!

___

"Tell me about yourself, Ian." Andy clears his throat. "You got a record?"

The older man and his opponent sit at the table, sizing each other up.

"I don't think so. But I saw a picture of one somewhere."

Hm. How evasive of you.

"Interesting answer. I take it that you've never had any run-ins with the law?"

"Um, I met a cop once." Ian coughs into his sleeve. "I asked if he ate a lot of donuts. He said no."

So, you're not above bribing law enforcement, huh? Clearly a delinquent in the making.

"What an astute observation. Now, tell me about your interests."

Other than my daughter. He lets the unspoken words hang in the air, enjoying how his foe squirms in his seat.

"Uh, interests?" The young man responds, looking as confused as he sounds.

Andy can barely keep himself from rolling his eyes. "I'm referring to your likes and your hobbies, son." He takes a long sip of his coffee, peering at him over the rim of his mug. "What do you do for fun?"

The young man looks down at his folded hands. "Uhh, I like to draw. I'm pretty good too."

"Hm. So, would you consider yourself an artist then?" Andy hooks an ankle over his knee. "Do you have any idea how much an artist typically makes in a year, son? And I don't mean gross pay, I'm talking take home."

"Erm, no. I guess a lot. Maybe?"

Wow. This one's a real scholar. Top of his class.

"No. It's not a lot. In fact, it's next to nothing. Which means you bring home nothing. And therefore, you will be able to afford nothing. Except for a life filled with abject misery. In that, you will have an embarrassment of riches. Understand?"

I really can't be more clear here, pal.

"Umm...ok."

"Do you enjoy eating, young man? You like food?"

Ian nods his head vigorously. "I love pepperoni pizza with stuffed crust. It's my favorite!"

"Heh." The elder Barber scoffs. "Well, I'm afraid you can kiss that goodbye. Hope you're prepared to starve, kid."

My baby girl has expensive taste. We believe in ordering double pepperoni in this house.

"But...but...I don't wanna starve!" His opponent looks a little scared.

Good.

Andy simply offers a less than sympathetic shrug. "Shoulda' made better life choices." He lets a beat go by before continuing the conversation.

"Since you seem to love pictures so much, I'd like to take the liberty of drawing you a detailed sketch of a jail cell." He pulls a pen from his pocket before grabbing a nearby notepad. "Now, I'm going to start by outlining the bars. Yep, go on and lean in, son - there we go."

___

A few minutes later you walk into the kitchen in search of your husband.

"Andy!" You call out, lightly bouncing baby RoRo on your hip. "Andy, have you seen, Ian? Bianca said he went to the bathroom and never came back, which is odd because - oh, no."

You stop dead in your tracks when you see your spouse and your daughter's little playmate huddled at the table, their heads practically touching.

"Ian, honey, what are you doing?" Closing your eyes, you send up a prayer to the Lord above asking for patience.

"Um, Mr. Barber is drawing me a picture of a prison." Oh, Jesus Christ, no. "He says there's lots of barbed wire and stuff. Oh, and a mean guy named Bubba who didn't get alotta hugs when he was little."

"Huh." Your head tilts to the side as it threatens to spin off your shoulders. "Is that right?"

Andy stares back at you with unrepentant eyes. "What? The kid said he was an artist. I was just giving him some pointers by helping him use his imagination..."

"Sweetheart." You grit out. "Please go play. BiBi's waiting for you in the den."

"Okay, but um, Mrs. Barber, why does your one eye keep blinking a whole bunch like that?"

Because there's about to be a murder.

"Ope. No reason, kiddo." You reach out a hand to ruffle his mop of sandy-blonde hair as he brushes by. "I'll be in with some snacks in a minute."

Ian scampers off to go find his friend.

"Andrew..." You growl as you grip the counter top in an effort to keep yourself from strangling the man you had vowed to spend the rest of your life with. "Just - just why? Tell me why." While you wait for him to talk you decide to focus on your deep breathing.

"Because it's my right as a father not to like any man who walks through that front door - unless they're my son." He's quick to amend when he sees your nostrils flare.

"Andrew Stephen Barber." You hiss, enjoying his flinch at the use of his full name. "He is a child here for a play date."

Andy huffs out a laugh and then shrugs as if to say "so what?".

"Y/N, my love, we are all somebody's child." Your smug buttface of a husband informs you before leaning back in his chair.

"Yeah, well, the child that I am referring to just turned seven-years-old at the end of last month." Andy clears his throat, suddenly fascinated by the light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. "He also likes Transformers, dino nuggets, and still has a thing for Peppa Pig."

You kiss your infant daughter's chubby hand as she playfully smacks at your face, clearly tired of being ignored.

"So? I didn't even do anything that bad." Your husband responds, crossing his arms over his brawny chest before serving you his best pout. "I was just vetting him a little."

"No, you were attempting to intimidate a baby in our home. Without his parents present." Or me, you handsome Dingus.

"So what? He'll grow."

"Ugh. I do not approve of these illegal interrogation tactics, Mr. Barber." You wag your finger at him as you do your best to look menacing. "Now, take your daughter and go play." Nodding, your Big Man plucks a wiggly RoRo from your grasp before trotting towards the den.

"Nope!" Grabbing him by the shoulders you physically turn him around and nudge him in the opposite direction. "Find a different room, sweetheart. You can't be trusted on your own."

"Hmph. Fine." Andy grunts, spinning on his heel. "But I'd like to say that, on behalf of all the loving fathers in the world, we are completely and totally misunderstood."

"Of course you are." You go up on your tiptoes to peck his lips. "And underappreciated."

"Yes!" His striking blue eyes light up.

"Oh, well. Life's tough, get a helmet." You flick him in the ear, which makes your baby giggle. "Now go play."

END

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humanmorph · 5 months

Text

pal33. i kind of just wanted to post a drawing but ended up writing a ton somehow...

I didn't take a ton of notes for this. I think it's mostly because it's so cold lately I don't feel like taking my hands out of my pockets, and also I'm not great at typing while walking so I'd have to stop, which, cold again!

Keith talking about how ruminating /calms Eclectic down/ made me grasp my head. Like in disbelief. I went HUH?! out loud. I still haven't quite pinned down the exact emotion that was brought forth by, but I think it was partly a kind of the feeling that I was actively being catered to when I wasn't expecting that OR even wanted it like. I already liked the guy. This was unnecessary. And the other part was that I love it. Absolutely obsessed with this flavour of weirdguy-ism. It's so good in a... Hm. Ok I'm having Eclectic thoughts that I'll hold onto for now, but like. "good to have a character sketch" yeah it sure is!

...and here are a bunch of other Eclectic thoughts that aren't the ones I just mentioned. i did not even expect to type all this when i started

(SANGFIELLE SPOILERS IN THIS PARAGRAPH? sorry.) It IS kind of strange to have a new character coming in this late w/ how close the Blue Channel crew is... I've noted before that it's like, different to other FatT seasons were everyone is just so coworkers ever (Sangfielle being the epitome of that. To Me. "[...] and it is you standing over the body of someone you used to work with." BANGER line). Even Phrygian was weird, but in a way that fit because of who they were. What also plays into this is noone except Figure really having space for gravity clocks. Which like... obviously characters can have relationships without those, but there's a reason they exist which is like, this is so important that it has mechanical advantage, or this is something I want to explore, like that means something? And I still wish Phrygian had had more, because the one with Figure didn't even end up coming up like, basically at all. It's a shame Brnine was so popular re: clocks bc those two could've really benefitted from a gravity clock, since they were together on missions a lot with the B-Plot thing. Well and also I liked them. Sigh ok I got sidetracked. Phrygian... But yeah, it may just be that this sortie is exterbating it bc Eclectic is literally by himself fucking around disconnected from everyone going through the horrors together (and that's bonding, baby!). I don't know how much longer the season will be, and maybe the feeling I currently have, which is like "it's the Blue Channel! ...and that other guy" will change. And like if it wasn't clear I do love that other guy I think that other guy is the most immediately compelling character Keith has had (similarly to Phrygian, actually. With Phrydge it was the concept & design that really excited me (Branched!!!) and with Eclectic it's that he's literally so funny and also Keith acts him great)! And he JUST got here, so I don't wanna be unfair. But it's been kicking around in my head & I wanted to write it down at least. It's like, would /I/ like his character to have a deeper connection to the rest of the player characters? Yeah generally I guess I would. Does Keith gaf about that as a player? I don't know that, but it's probably less of an impulse for him than, say, Ali. That would be my guess as a listener, anyways. And I hope Keith is having a better time playing now! It feels like it, but then again I also had no clue that he /didn't/ with Phrygian until he said it. (Still miss Phrygian though. Which is in combat with me being actually really happy with how they end up, like it might be the most a character 'death' on FatT has worked for me (not that there are /that/ many, but still).)

Back to. the episode: Good ep! I don't have all that much to say (OK. LIE). Just a thoroughly good time in a bunch of different ways. Love the singular character focus. Also just really Fun, like, made me laugh a lot. Fun interactions between good friends and whatnot. A bit that made me laugh was at the end when Ali was trying to figure out how to be find a way through the catacombs and suggests something that Austin has this "what?? no. thats scary." reaction to. Wait I'll just get it:

ALI: [talking about navigating the catacombs] And does it involve going through one of these body holes. AUSTIN: (genuinely aghast) Oh my god! ALI: Like, are there other tunnels. AUSTIN: There are other tunnels but you never have to go through a body hole- well, I shouldn't say never. That's SO creepy.

Which then gets the very great visual of Brnine doing that. Like it IS creepy and person having to crawl through tight space IS a thing that just gets me, even though it doesn't really get focus here I can't help but immediately picturing it... I was also for some reason expecting for there to be another body blocking the way... I've said this before and then was immediately like haha jk but I'm over it I will stop pretending I'm NOT kidding. I want Figure to roll worse. I miss Gur. Can you Fail Figure? I miss my friend Gur Sevraq. It's a thin line between that and Figure dying though (I DON'T WANT THIS. Because I want them to go further as a character but also, (thought I had only recently) what happens to my friend. Name of Gur Sevraq?). Anyways Gur... "This is false. But not all false things are impossible. And many have happened before." and "This is a thing that has already happened. She has seen it." <- has me sitting down and stapling my fingers. The. Perennial. Perennial

I don't have anything to say about Brnine aside from that I love them and that Ali is on her A-game. "Brnine is. Brnine and killed the president but is still a goofy loser" like. Ok. That's everything to me

The differences in, say, Thisbe's dream vision vs. Figures is interesting. And Cori falls somewhere in the middle? Like, Figure catching on really quickly, and also being in this situation of... all their friends are dead. People fear them. Being so immediately one that they are uncomfortable in & that feels somewhat alien vs. Thisbe being in a role that she envisions for herself and as such presumably feels comfortable in? Austin seems to be playing at the hooks with the visions (& they are what got immediately affected when they entered those), and for Figure it's probably "The only way to escape the Witch is by endangering others, but they seem eager to accept the risk." that feels the most relevant there? Maybe the Witch part less so, but least Austin mentioning that Cori specifically sacrificed herself to save Figure reminded me of this just now. For Thisbe it's "Fighting is not my purpose, but there is nowhere else for me until the fighting is over.", which I already talked a bit about above, though what's super interesting to me there is that this is obviously not all that's happening. I don't quite know what to do with there being More of Thisbe / units of her type... Or how she feels about that, if any which way. Cori's is interesting too because next to her sword + shield tenets being pulled in (specifically mentioning that they should be on the defense multiple times, which Cori ignores to charge ahead!) it's also the sense of her not wanting to be... underestimated or looked down on. Which is very much the vibe with Elle as a rival btw (it's fun. I'm happy Austin is having a good time with them lol). Oh! Also Austin says something about how it would've gone bad either way (even if Cori HAD stayed back to defend), which is another difference to both of the others visions, but expecially Thisbe's. Vibes just different. Well I'm curious what'll happen there next! Brnine is coming to visit! I didn't even mean to type this much but this really is very cool to me. I'm looping back around to what Gur said, too... Wish they were here...

Oh and Cori being glad to see Figure & hugging them really got to me too. They're sweet :' ).

and finally.

#MILLIEMENTION

I'm a simple woman I hear her name and I clap and cheer. originally this drawing was at the top but then I was like nah this is for people who either read everything OR clicked the readmore to then scroll past it... either way. work for it a little. i liked how it turned out! this is currently my new favourite brush.

#palisadeposting #palisade spoilers

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kmenkea · 6 months

Text

Bloodlust - Part 3

Summary: A bunch of hectic days are ahead of the party, but even through the fight, they manage to bond. Astarion finds himself worried when his favourite travelling companion falls in battle.

A/N: I think the only thing I have to say, is that this fanfic is moving very slow, as I'm taking my time to write and expand on the relationship, rather than just rush to the cool heart-warming romance part (and the ehhh, less wholesome parts which are coming with part 4 (which is already written btw, I'm just lazy and keep playing the game instead of posting)). Well, tell me if I should speed things up, or if it's fine to keep it slow and write for a lot longer.

Read on AO3

Word count: 4.4k

This sketch is very rough, but I liked the expressions on their faces

As always, mild spoilers for act 1

The two days that followed were, to put it lightly, an absolute turn off. First, they ran into a small barn house where two lovebirds were having a moment and didn’t take the intrusion lightly. The jokes around the fire that night were way too raunchy and disgusting for either Leeith or Astarion to hide away together, without thinking of what they had seen and be weirded out. It was fun though. For the first night, they actually all drank and got together around the fire like friends. Before, everyone would just quietly sit alone, maybe one or two people would have a conversation together, but most were stiff and distant from each other.

The next day, they went back to that path, dead hyenas littered the cobblestone street. One of them was panting and howling, clearly in pain. Leeith moved closer, hoping to help it, or at least end the pain, but the animal exploded in her face: a gnoll was birthed right in front of her. And the underdark was the horrifying place? No one had ever told her about gnoll reproduction, because even down there few things were worse.

Even if a bit beaten up, they managed to kill the two metres tall babies that were born in front of them. They made camp on a nearby hill, recounting all the grossest and most gruesome details of every creature they knew. Once night fell, Leeith remained alone in front of the fire, observing it fly and twirl. A bottle of wine was by her side, but she only took small sips. She didn't know what it was, but her mood had turned more sour than the contents of that bottle. Going back in her mind through these days, she realised the great weight she was carrying over her shoulders, how insignificant she truly was. Part of her wanted to just let go, be turned into an octopus and lose herself forever. She wasn't scared of death and ceremorphosis didn't sound far from it. But just… she couldn't just let go of life now. The people she was travelling with would have been fine without her, they were capable enough and she didn't care what they did of their lives if it didn't influence her own; her goddess, that was the only reason she had to life, she couldn't squander it after she had given it back to her.

A cold hand touched her shoulder, making her jump. She never noticed just how silent the vampire's steps were. He sat down, throwing his arm around the drow. She didn't welcome him, but she was glad to have been pulled away from her thoughts.

"Shall we depart, my sweet? I want to enjoy this night." He kissed her jaw and gently bit her skin. She didn't respond, just shrugging her shoulders. The offer was tempting, but… the melancholy had taken a strong grip on her heart.

"Maybe another day, if it's all the same to you." She drank a sip of wine, then offered the bottle to her courter. "I'm drier than this wine right now." She chuckled. Astarion scoffed and tried the wine. He made a disgusted face while reading the tag.

"Are you the one changing your mind? Mhph, here I thought I would get to taste you tonight." There was something in his voice, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Some kind of anxiousness. She had just rejected him or maybe he was just annoyed by going hungry another day.

"You can still drink me if you want." She offered her wrist. "Sorry for not giving you blood yesterday, I was too tired." She grabbed the bottle back from his hands, taking one long swig.

"A tempting offer, darling, but I'm afraid that vinegar spoiled your blood." His arm fell from her shoulders. Leeith felt bad for him: under the arrogant and indifferent masque, there was a whole lot of annoyance. And she couldn’t have him annoyed and resentful towards her.

"Mhh, come on darling, let me make it up with you. I'll get something better to drink so we can get shitfaced and my blood will taste sweet again, then you have your fill of me." She bit her lip, placing a hand on his chest and leaning towards him a bit. Even if it wasn't what he wanted, the offer of blood was just too tempting to pass: she could see it in the way his eyes glanced at her wrist and his fingers wanted to wrap themselves around it. He was still a slave to his sanguine hunger.

Astarion agreed at the end. As the night progressed, the drow got drunker and drunker, her smile growing wider and wider, while the liquor did its magic. Even the vampire senses were getting duller, his quips and remarks less on point, though he was drinking a lot less. Somehow, they were enjoying each other's presence and having fun as friends would. They didn't finish the bottle before the drow, gulping her last sip, put it aside.

"I- think I'll- stooop." She mumbled, laying down on her bedroll and looked at Astarion with a smile. "Come get your priiiize!" She hummed happily, exposing her neck.

The vampire didn't need to be asked twice. Gently, he cradled her head, keeping it on one side. Leeith shivered, feeling his body, made warm by the fire, come down on her. Somewhat she regretted rejecting his advances, but even in that state, she knew she was too drunk to go back on the decision. The bite arrived, icy as always, and she tried to let herself go, but a certain sadness returned. Hers, his, it was hard to tell.

Anxiety mixed with drunkenness and a sprinkle of remorse was all they offered to each other. Astarion was waiting to breach her mind, but the connection never came. Did he do something wrong? Did he upset her in any way? Were his techniques not working anymore? That couldn't be: she did still offer her blood. Part of him was glad he didn’t have to act, he didn’t have to use himself to get what he needed. But what would he do once she’d get bored of him? He knew perfectly well Leeith wasn’t the kind to do things without a prize coming her way. It was better to forget for now, just focus on her blood, burning his throat with alcohol.

The elf left her neck, licking his lips to catch any runaway droplet. Leeith's head was spinning like a cartwheel, between the wine and the bloodloss. She didn’t even try to sit back up or clean her wound, preferring to just pull up her blanket.

“Already tired, darling? I hope you’ll be able to keep up with me tomorrow.” He got up, adjusting the collar of his shirt.

“I’ll make you- regret theshe wordsh. I’ll- suck you dry.” She slurred, twisting her body in a more comfortable position. “Good ng- nee- night, Assstarion. Ass-tarion, hehe.” Her mind left the material plane for that of memories before he could respond.

The next day, after guzzling down a weird concoction against hangovers, they continued on to a tollhouse on the bridge. There, some paladins of Tyr were looking for the same devil Leeith's group was searching. They had taken residence in that building: it was pretty large, with a main room full of barrels and crates and a desk at the centre piece, it communicated with a smaller upper floor thanks to two ladders. Another room was on the side, which served as kitchen and sleeping quarters. It also had a basement, but they chose to save the plunder for later. The drow offered her help to the paladins: it was better to stick together in case the wanted woman proved dangerous.

When they did find her, she looked pretty badly put, hiding away at the edge of a river and… on fire? How was she not dead or screaming her lungs out? What kind of devil was she? Leeith, Shadowheart and Lae’zel moved closer, while the rogue remained behind, crossbow already in hand. The devil saw them arrive and… smiled. Her hand never got close to her axe nor her words showed hostility. The drow heard her story and at the end, decided to invite Karlach in.

According to the tiefling’s words, they were going to need all their firepower to beat these imposter paladins.

“Alright we’ll do it this way: Karlach you’ll come with us. Shadowheart and Lae’zel, you go back to camp and tell the wizard to come here. I want to test if his magic is powerful enough - and I hope it is because these guys don’t seem to joke around. Don’t mention anything about this to Wyll. You will keep an eye on him and stop him if he tries to come here, understood?”

"Aye aye, captain." Scoffed Shadowheart.

In silence, the two went away. The tension between them was palpable as always, but they seemed to understand how to keep their animosity in check for the greater good.

The trio waited for the arrival of the wizard, chatting with their new companion, asking her about wars and the hells, which she was pretty happy to recount. Her jovial attitude did put a smile on Leeith's face, along with her need for violence. She did care a bit too much about the wellness of others, so the drow wasn't sure how well she'd mix with her way of things.

Her line of thought was broken by a voice. "Hello there." It said.

"Good, you arrived." She said upon seeing the wizard. "Gale this is Karlach, Karlach he's Gale, our mage, finally out on adventure." She added ironically at last. Gale was a bit confused upon seeing the tiefling, but still smiled.

"A pleasure to meet you." He greeted her warmly, extending a hand.

"Might be better I don't touch that, soldier." She beat her chest and more flames came out of her skin.

"Ah. I know something about dangerous things inside your chest." He laughed. Leeith rolled her eyes: the guy was really a money sink and dared get angry at her when she probed his mind for more information, as if she was just going to have a random guy eat her stuff and, worse of all, insult her and her patron's magical abilities.

"Far from me to interrupt you, but can we stop with pleasantries and go do our job? We're not exactly hidden away." The drow stood up, waiting for her companions to follow her. Gale sighed and mumbled something about patience. Her head was throbbing too much to pick up a fight with him now.

"I do so want to sink my teeth into a paladin. I wonder what holy blood tastes like." Commented the vampire in a dreamy voice, walking away.

“They’re not paladins, they’re imposters.” Corrected Karlach, fidgeting with her greataxe.

“Ahh, but can’t you just let a man dream-” The elf was interrupted by a swing getting way too close to his nose “Sweet hells! Can you put that damned thing down! I’m right here!” He screamed, jumping a few steps back like a startled cat. Karlach looked mortified, but still jolly, as she hid the weapon behind her back.

After a few chuckles and jokes at the expense of the vampire, they returned to the tollhouse. Leeith ordered everyone to stop talking and put up their most serious faces. She was going to at least try and talk their way out of this situation, hopefully the paladins weren't the liars the tiefling said they were. And if things turned sour… she motioned to Astarion to go towards the back of the building, strike from the shadows if combat started.

The rest went past the slaughter corpses of gnolls left on the bridge and towards the main door, which was open. But something was off.

The closer she got, the more a sense of impending doom spread in her mind. The tadpole squirmed inside her brain: it felt like an arrow had gone through her eye. She scratched it, praying to Lolth this wasn't the start of her transformation. Not now, after so long.

But the pain wasn't physical, it was more like a heavy curtain falling on her shoulders, smothering her. She proceeded forward, showing no signs of her discomfort to her companions.

A flash struck her mind: she saw Karlach dead on the ground, Gale limping away and herself laying face down on the floor, in a pool of her own blood. What was that?

She glanced over to the people behind her, but they seemed relaxed. The vision, it felt… like a déjà vu. Was that premonition or just anxiety? She couldn't stop now, they were basically in front of the door, just one more step and she would have locked eyes with the man.

Another flash made her whimper in pain: no, the man wasn't a paladin. He was going to use that sword against them in an effort to kill Karlach.

"What's the meaning of this? Why is the devil with you?" Shouted the man from behind his desk, hurrying to stand up. What should she do?

Karlach walked past her, starting to say something to explain herself. The drow's head throbbed again. Maybe it was just the alcohol, still inebriating her mind. But…

"Dolor!" She shouted, as the warlock aimed for that traitor's head. Tingling rose on her shoulder, flowing down her arm like a growing wave of spiders; realising the blast made her arm recoil backwards, but the man was still hit on the chest by a bolt of force, making him gasp for air.

"You fucking worms. Zariel will have your head!" The man unsheathed his greatsword and jumped over the desk. Karlach was already drawing her weapon and, in a burst of flames, she lowered it on the paladin's shoulder, leaving a dent in his armour.

"I thought we were going to speak with them!" Cried Gale, as a spell was forming around his hands. He glanced around, still confused. Another enemy was in the room, an halfling who seemed about ready to shoot Karlach. A ray of lighting left his fingertips, shocking the archer. A painful scream arose from the other room

Leeiths head cleared up, the foreboding sensation finally gone. She scanned the area, her lips ready to cast another spell: Gale could take the halfling archer alone, the real problem was the paladin. She pointed her index at the man and a curse mark appeared over his cheek, then she blasted him again. He glared at her, but couldn’t move past the mountain of infernal muscle that was the tiefling. He attacked her, a sweep so swift that it could have cut a person in half, if the barbarian hadn’t stepped aside; a large gaping wound still tore her abdomen, spitting fire and blood, but she just seemed reinvigorated by the pain. An arrow went just past Gale, who retaliated with another lighting shock.

Both the tiefling and drow continued their assault on the fake paladin, but his battle senses were in full operation and the attacks didn’t hurt him as much as they should have. He swung at Karlach again - his strikes empowered by an enchantment - this time wounding her arm pretty badly, almost making her lose her weapon. The halfling used a spell against the wizard and this time the arrow struck true, forcing the mage to drop his spell and glance at the pool of blood quickly soaking his robe. Even if in pain and on his last legs, he called upon more of his magic, and the halfling too was left within an inch of her life, but not quite dead.

Something felt off again to Leeith, watching Karlach fight in the first lines alone. She still tried to hit the paladin, but her mind was too preoccupied with thinking and missed her target. The tiefling hit him with all her might, sending him against his desk coughing blood. Maybe it was going to be fine.

Another scream ruptured her eardrums, this time coming from Gale, who fell down on the ground, unconscious. The halfling focused on Leeith, smirking and marking her for dead next. Before she could react, pain exploded on her hip, as she found an arrow sticking out of her abdomen. WIth anger bubbling inside her, she limped away from the desk to get a clearer shot. She launched her finger forward, calling on her patron’s shared energy. A second later, the lifeless body of the halfling hit the wall, as blood poured out from her mouth and eyes, the blast having crushed her internal organs to a pulp. The paladin shoved Karlach aside and ran to the drow, greatsword raised high past his head. With a burst of adrenaline and panic, she managed to get away, but slipped on someone’s blood, falling to the ground. Karlach was right behind the paladin, using the handle of her greataxe to choke him and pull him away from the helpless drow. He pushed her against the desk, but she wouldn’t let go of her grasp.

Leeith crawled away from the two wrestling mountains, her hand shuffling through her pockets for a potion. A flash of magic caught her eyes: from the door to one side a wounded and bloodied woman appeared. The magic missiles she casted kicked out whatever vitality she had left, and her vision darkened. In the last moments of consciousness, she looked around for Shadowheart, but she was nowhere to be seen. A male voice screamed.

“No, you can’t die. Get up, damn you.” Astarion arrived in the other room, just as Leeith fell. The woman he had fought against all this time turned around, ready to hit him too, but the elf parried the blow and slipped away from her, running towards the drow.

The paladin was still alive. He knew the tactic well, what Leeith had ordered everyone to do in every fight: Lae’zel and Shadowheart would go in front, protected by their armour, while the drow and himself would stand behind, picking off enemies from a distance. If anyone fell, “Let them kiss the ground and focus on killing; they can lick their wounds after the battle is over.” But the two women were nowhere to be seen and the situation was dire.

His intestines twisted and tugged at the sight of the drow struggling for her life. He felt like he couldn’t just let her go. No, she was too important, he needed her to protect him. He needed her blood and flavour. And something else he couldn’t quite put his fingers upon, something that reminded him of yesterday’s evening, as they drank and chatted; that reminded him of all the little pleasantries she’d do for him, having his back both in fights and in conversation, the things she would give just to him, like that potion.

He reached in his pockets for the bottle, removing the cork with his teeth and emptying the contents in her mouth. The human woman used this as an opportunity to attack him but, quick as a cat, he rolled away from the fire bolt, just as Leeith's eyes shot open and she gasped for air.

He reached for his crossbow and the bolt plunged itself under the enemy's chin, right where two bite marks still bled. Her hands reached up at her throat. She tried to scream but only some gurgly noises came from her mouth, then her eyes rolled up and she fell.

Astarion pointed his weapon at the paladin, who was still in a lock with Karlach. They both looked pretty rough, but the tiefling had the upper hand. Seeing the elf ready to strike, she kicked the man away from her. The rogue shot a bolt which hit his thigh. The paladin fell to his knees: Karlach swung her axe one last time, beheading the traitor.

The bloodbath was over. They had only an instant to rest, before rushing to the mage: he was still alive, but he needed help. The drow could only dull his pain with a healing potion, but at least he was out of death’s door.

Karlach was enraged, panting heavily and clenching every muscle in her body, as if she was fighting against herself. She cursed at Zariel, growling like a bear.

“Burn their corpses, tear this whole place down.” Coughed Leeith, dragging Gale’s body outside. The barbarian roared and, in a burst of flames, split the desk in half. She swung her axe at every object in the room, setting the wooden floor on fire wherever she stepped.

Astarion and Leeith watched from a careful distance, both sitting down. The rogue barely had any scratch marks on his pretty, delicate face.

“I thought you weren’t going to need potions, darling.” Teased the vampire. The drow glared at him, as she checked the arrow sticking out of her abdomen: only part of the tip had managed to penetrate her skin but it still hurt like hell.

“Shut up, blood sucker- Nngh- Fuck!” She bit down on her glove and pulled out the arrow. Her scream was muffled, but tears formed in her eyes. After taking a few breaths, she untied the lower part of her gambeson, to check on the new soon-to-be scar she had acquired. Her shirt was all red and it hurt to lift up from the wound since it was stuck in it. Blood was pouring pretty copiously, but not enough to worry, and the wound looked clean, with the edges already starting to heal thanks to the potion.

An elegant porcelain finger caressed her hip, turning scarlet as blood pooled on the little crevices and wrinkles of the skin. As quick as it came, it disappeared, and Astarion ran his tongue over his hand, slowly and weirdly sensually. Leeith didn’t speak, but her expression still warranted an answer.

“It’s free blood, my sweet. Why should I let it go to waste? The pain makes its flavour even richer.” The vampire lips were very red with leftover blood; he licked them clean.

“You’re a gluttonous one. I fed you yesterday!” The drow uncorked another small vial and put it at Gale’s lips, slowly pouring the liquid down his throat. The mage coughed as he regained consciousness.

“Very much so, dear. I even fed on that woman who so gently killed you, but human blood is not even half as delectable as yours.” His voice was as soft as honey when he talked, flowing gently from his lips to her ear. He placed his hand on her sane hip, leaning closer.

“Cloud I- cough - not wake up to- you two flirting.” The mage’s voice was strained and low as he tried sitting up.

"Think you should thank your lucky stars that you woke up at all." Said Leeith, gently pushing Astarion away.

"How- fortunate." He breathed heavily, trying to steady his voice. "What happened to- speaking with the men? Surprise attacks should be a- gods- a surprise for them, not us."

"I got a bad feeling about it. A flash of our dead corpses if you will… more dead than now." The drow stood up, looking inside the building for the tiefling. She was sitting in a corner, panting. She seemed to have calmed down.

"Gods, another one of your flashes? Like with the bear?" Said the vampire with a mocking tone.

"Are you going to bring out the bear thing every time I remember I have to do something?" She said, turning around towards them.

"Absolutely yes. I love to twist the knife in the wound." He grinned reassuringly.

"That's what makes you truly charming, blood sucker." Said the drow, earning a hum of approval from Astarion.

"Thank you, darling. You're allowed to compliment me more."

"Sorry to- interrupt again, but you and I both still need medical assistance. Or are you going to stay- here to…" He waved his hands up in the air and a few sparkles and coloured smog came out. "Do your magic?"

"Huff, I suppose it's true. Though I would have been fine if someone didn’t kiss the ground first and break formation." The drow turned to the building again, and called out Karlach.

Once all together again, they decided to rest for a bit more, since Gale couldn’t walk nor anyone carry him. More resentment started to build up in Leeith, watching the wizard very slowly regain his ability to move, after popping another potion. If Shadowheart had been there, they would have already been patched up and ready to go, rather than lose precious time looking at the corpses rot.

The drow couldn't bear staying idle for more than fifteen minutes. She explored the premises alone, while the other three had fun and laughed, but didn’t find more than old food and some lockpicks. Her companions probably noticed how her brow furrowed and jaw clenched, while she looted the paladin’s corpse. It’s not that she wanted them to stop having fun while she ransacked the place, but she did feel a little better for receiving help. After entrusting the enchanted greatsword to Karlach, they went to the basement to loot some more. They unfortunately didn't find anything more than traps and some silver cutlery. She had a hunch there must have been some kind of sliding wall or invisible keyhole, but had no idea how to access it. Shadowheart had way keener eyes than the wizard: if she had been there, they would have been able to find the secret room.

The return to camp was just as frustrating: Wyll jumped right to Karlach's throat and had to be peeled off by Lae'zel. Leeith was at the last rope, but fortunately the barbarian was pretty understanding of the situation and managed to come to an agreement with her pursuer.

Only then was she able to be seen by the cleric, who very easily closed her wound. The drow blew off some steam, complaining to Shadowheart how bad Gale was and how much more she preferred her around. She cautiously accepted the compliments, then went to tend to the wizard.

Leeith left camp to find a river, bringing along just some soap and a large linen cloth. A few minutes later she laid in the frigid water of a lake, all sounds muffled by the water in her ears. Her heart beat slowed down and her body went numb from the cold. The sun had started its descending parabole, the sky wasn't pink yet; there was still much time before evening, but she just needed to relax for today.

And relax she will for once. Something caught her eye, a flash of white and red. With everything going so badly today, she had almost forgotten about Astarion's promise.

#baldurs gate astarion #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate fanfiction #sketch #astarion romance #character illustration #baldurs gate fanart #baldur's gate oc #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

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ambyandony · 7 months

Text

Miscellaneous JJBA OC: "Maruko" Profilette

okay this is actually really fuckin long but uhhh so i got the stand ref, maruko ref, and a bunch of real quick low-qual sketches for flavour

//cw for general child neglect/abandonment, infant death, implied train violence

Maruko is a young orphan boy, born around 1990, generally portrayed as he was active in 1999 Japan - possibly Morioh (Part 4 works for the timeframe, and Morioh has potential for a perfect setting so there's no reason against it). His Stand's name can give you a pretty good idea of his past: Coin Locker Baby.

In Japan, there has been a phenomenon of babies - often newborns - being abandoned in coin-operated public lockers, relating to overarching child abandonment issues in Japanese society (which I won't get into right now) and various factors contributing to why. It was more prevalent in the past, although there have been reported cases as recently as 2021. Presumably, the assumption is that these lockers are regularly checked, and the baby (if not stillborn) will be found quickly, but unfortunately, many are not found in time. The victims of this phenomenon are known as coin-locker babies.

One February night, around 1990 or 1989, a newborn was abandoned by his mother in one of Morioh station's coin-operated lockers. He was found alive by the next morning and taken to safety.

At the time of his abandonment, the child had been normal in every regard, average size, perfectly healthy, but something changed when the locker door slammed. His spirit, that is; the psychological strain of abandonment and the need to survive pushed him to develop his Stand, though it would be a few years until he was fully cognisant of it.

For the first few years of his life, he was raised in an orphanage, developing a detached and cold demeanour, being incredibly quiet and moody, and never really getting along with other kids. The few possessions he did have were often taken by other, bigger kids, and he gave up trying to reclaim them when he began to consider them less valuable than the effort was worth. Despite his undeveloped cognitive capabilities given his young age, he began to heavily focus on what value meant to him and figured the only thing he found valuable enough to save was himself.

The most he typically spoke was when he would ask care workers about his own past, asking why he'd been abandoned and who his mother was, to minimal effect. With nothing telling him otherwise and knowing he'd been willingly abandoned, the child began to imagine his mother as a cold, uncaring woman with more important things to do than care for a child, and developed a hatred for her, even though he wasn't yet sure who she was. Around age 5, the boy ran away from the orphanage, taking few belongings with him, and was not missed.

Following his departure from the orphanage, the boy found his way to Morioh station, and decided he would stay there, in the very place where he'd been abandoned. He was able to tell by instinct alone which specific locker had been 'his'. It was at this station that he was finally able to comprehend that he had a Stand and discovered its ability.

Coin Locker Baby is a humanoid developing Stand with a low degree of sentience. Its ability is to take things from people with an impossibly strong pull, and lock those things away in a Stand-construct coin-operated locker, where the item is kept irretrievable until the victim offers something of equal value to the stolen item in return. However, it must be of equal personal value to the person offering payment, as objective monetary value means nothing to Coin Locker Baby and its User. Unless the victim truly values their stolen belongings as no more than monetary value, then approaching the locker with yen coins will do nothing. If the stolen thing is of high sentimental value, the victim must offer something of high sentimental value in return. Any object, no matter the shape, size or kind of item, can be deposited as payment, and the User claims that in some cases, the offer of payment alone has sufficient value; for example, the offer to pay for someone else's stolen belongings is considered an act of high moral value, due to the honourable nature of the action...

The boy, upon discovering his Stand and its ability, began to use it on passersby waiting in the station and train passengers, stealing coats, hats, money and food. Anyone who chased him would be presented with a coin-locker and the boy's stipulation that he wouldn't give back what he stole unless they gave him something of equal value. Doing this opened him up to see different sides of people's behaviour, and he began using Coin Locker Baby not only for survival, but as a test of character. Despite his criminal activity, security and police could never find or catch him, and eventually gave up trying to. Locals eventually knew well enough to keep a tight hold on their belongings when at the station.

Reports and talk of his ominous demeanour, frequent theft and odd behaviour upon confrontation began to develop into rumours, and, eventually, another Morioh-cho urban legend; the specifics varied, but some versions of the 'legend' seemed to insist he was the vengeful spirit of an ill-fated coin-locker baby haunting the train station. Some considered the stories real and believed that he was a ghost. Some didn't believe he even existed at all. Many others, especially those who attested to his existence, insisted that he was just a poor, orphaned, troubled young boy whose erratic behaviour had led people to assume the worst. People, not knowing who he was whether he existed or not, began giving this 'urban legend' varying but similar names, typically along the lines of 'coin boy'. Having lost track of the name he'd been called at the orphanage anyway, he decided to take one of these names and identify himself by it: Maruko.

... Similarly to what it can accept as payment, anything of any shape or size can be locked away by Coin Locker Baby - including entire people. Maruko rarely uses it on people, the few circumstances that he had done so in the past were generally as a test of character. For example, attacking a pair of older kids once, he locked one away to see if their friend would try to free them or abandon them. However, Maruko never keeps a person in the locker, even if payment is not met.

In these cases, where the hostage is human, anyone who dares approach the locker with a hundred yen coin is attacked by Coin Locker Baby.

Generally, this is the only time Maruko will raise his voice.

Every 'payment' Coin Locker Baby receives and every stolen item not returned are kept in a sort of pocket dimension in Coin Locker Baby's torso, making its locker constructs portable, so it can manifest rows of lockers containing the stolen items for Maruko to retrieve for his own use, ranging from food and newly-bought clothes to Game Boys and manga.

He never attacks small children.

The urban legend in its most well-known form came to full 'popularity' in Morioh in 1998. On February 2nd, 30-year-old Saiki Mukosoe, a happily married woman with a 4-year-old daughter and 3-year-old son, was pronounced D.O.A. at the train station after suddenly falling onto the tracks as the train was arriving. What exactly happened could never be officially determined; she was concluded initially to have been pushed, but nobody could concretely tell how or by whom, so it was ruled an accident.

But unofficially, ask anyone who was waiting for that train that day- they'll tell you that the invisible force that she was pushed by was none other than the 'ghost boy' himself, though nobody could be sure why he did it, so the legends and stories once again varied.

Some kids circulating the urban legend, as kids are prone to do, claimed that the ghost boy's own mother was dead, and so he envied those who had mothers. Some people claimed instead that he'd been killed by his mother and so was scorned towards mothers as a result. Some folks less inclined towards the supernatural simply insisted that the so-called 'ghost boy' was simply just as the alternate name given to him implied: a scorned coin-locker baby, abandoned by his mother and vengeful as a result.

By 1999, Maruko, aged around 9 or 10, continues to live his lonely existence. No friends, no family. Nobody wants to approach him if they notice him, most people seem to think he's a ghost.

However, he finally met someone whose answer to "What do you think human life is worth?" he liked.

#OKAYYYY FINALLY FUUUUCK #THIS TOOK FOREVER TO GET AROUND TO #AND DRAWING CLB WAS LITERALLY SO PAINFUL #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojos bizarre adventure #diamond is unbreakable #amby draws #my art #jjba original character #fan stand #fanstands #josuke higashikata #character profile #jjba fan character #character profilette #Spotify #jjba oc #jojo oc

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