#almost gave up drawing this like 5 times lol
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big roar
#art#anthro#almost gave up drawing this like 5 times lol#took hours because of how bad i am with procreate rn#ill live
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Hello everypony,,, I've been gone for a hot minute O.o Haven't I.... Anyways heres another fake book cover. I really haven't been in a huge drawing mood, and I miss it a lot. I want to keep practicing these because it's fun and I want to make cool posters for myself and stuff like that. I copied it from another cover (down below...) because the title was too funny. I don't know what a truckers chicken is, I don't know why truckers would have chickens (animal or food??). I looked at the word trucker so much that it's just gibberish to me and I had to check over and over if it was spelt right LOL.
Sniper my queen,,,, release the tatas... Ignore the backgroudn. ofc I know how to draw trucks.. Okay Inknow what ypu'er thinking, dear reader, "Gee whiz Piccolos-Bigtoe!!! ANOTHER speeding bullet drawing? AND shirtless Sniper??? How very original of you..." and you're right, it is original, and I'm not sure if I've done it before now, but I will keep doing it. Lowkey it is my coping at this point,,, I project my personal issues onto them to make writing about it easier.... Blah
I'm going to be real right now with you all.... controversial opinion ahead........ I am not compelled by the thought of soft gentle twink Scout. Before you boo me and throw tomatoes- I think he's fun and cool, and I enjoy others depictions, but I like to imagine him as some an asshole overconfident wanna be hunk, annoying, reactive, always talking up a big game about mostly useless things but he can't handle his ego being bruised. but it's all a facade to hide his true emotions that he feels deep down (BOOO CLICHE!!!!)... </3 I went crazy Sunday night,, wrote like a whole thing about it.
Also I almost got into an accident today because while I was driving home from work some old lady decided to pull out from a parking lot and gave me like 5 seconds to slam on the breaks. Good bye until next time. Which is hopefully soon. I miss drawing
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U talked about people giving u scar ideas (in my case even more scar ideas).
P.S.: I LOVED the picture of Leo you drew with electricity scars! They looked very cool! I like how you did, at least with that picture, made them glow, just to make them stand out a bit more; looked awesome. Also, Leo looked hella feral in that picture, and I am ALWAYS here for feral Leo, lol.
And I just saw some clips and amvs (one of those clips being from TMNT clips tumblr) where Shredder almost crushed Leo to death and also threw him very far, hitting a car. I would link it, but tumblr hates me, and doesn't let me (at least currently) link stuff anymore in asks (maybe the Tumblr Gods will let me do so again someday...).
And then later on, in a different scene, he started trying to crush Leo's throat with his clawed hands (man, Shredder, haven't you already done enough damage to Leo's throat and/or windpipe, like sheesh, man!).
Also, since someone mentioned April (you drew her so pretty! And I liked the scars you gave her), Casey defin. would have SOME scars too. Like, for sure some head ones, pretty sure that dude got some and/or a lot of head injuries in that show and/or just scars from being such a brawler.
Also, Raph and Karai are brain worm/brain worms scars buddies! I say that, but that is sad as hell, poor Raph and Karai. I could see them bonding over it though. And Leo and Mikey just worrying about them when they talk about it (Donnie would too, but like, Leo is very much an overprotective sibling and would worry about and/or dote on his siblings/family/close friends, and Mikey worries about his big bros a lot, and knows when they are upset) sometimes.
we fr giving these boys more scars as if they don’t have enough of it already HHAHAHHAHA
thank you!!! i had a hell of a time time drawing that piece btw, it was super fun to draw feral leo. he really deserves to let off some steam.
i think i remember that scene, there was actually a recreation of it during that halloween episode in season 5 if i recall correctly?? poor boy got his arms crushed twice, by the SAME damn person..
shdgsjbdjsbd thank you again <33 april and casey was great to draw too, dude you have no idea how much i needed to touch up on drawing actual people since being hooked on tmnt bc i went literal weeks drawing turtles instead of humans LMAO thank god for muscle memory or else i would’ve forgotten completely. and, yes, absolutely! casey would def have some head injuries, and more centring around his arms and hands too. he’s buddies with mikey, since they both get head injuries so frequently.
karai and raph would tease each other about their brainworm scars lmao, they’d compare which one is nastier and neither would back down until the others have to mediate the two idiots into a draw. this happens everytime they meet btw
hope you enjoy my little doodles about these senarios :)
#is bonding over trauma healthy?#who knows#they love joking about it anyway#(this could also be counted as part of my future!12 au)#tmnt#tmnt 2012#teenage mutant ninja turtles#2012 leo#2012 raph#2012 donnie#2012 mikey#2012 casey jones#2012 april#2012 karai#leonardo tmnt#raphael tmnt#michelangelo tmnt#donatello tmnt#tmnt 2k12#future! 12 tmnt#blitzxiiru shitposts <3#blitz talks gibberish#asks
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Top five smutty fics/moments in fic please Livvy (and they can't all be from euphoria 🧐)
You know me all too well babes 🤡 lol yeah I could definitely do a top 5 just for Euphoria, considering the amount of hot stuff in there (and the amount of times I’ve read it 🌝). This was hard enough for Drarry so I’m not including rare pairs this time. Here are my top memorable scenes - funny, no matter how much filth I read it’s always the tenderness that sticks with me…
1. Far From Tree by aideomai
He rocked into Potter, slow and then again, and Potter said, voice shaking, “You’re inside me,” and Draco almost sobbed. It felt overwhelming, too much.
“Draco,” Potter said. He turned his face and they kissed slowly, barely moving. A long, golden kiss, and it still didn’t feel close enough. Draco wanted to crawl into Potter’s skin and live there. He wanted to eat him alive.
“Okay,” Potter said, “okay, okay,” and wriggled, demanding, and Draco did fuck him then, sure and easy, Potter’s thigh lifting up into his hold, his back arching up, his mouth open as Draco knocked shocked, pleased noises from him. They were getting loud, getting fast, the hot blur of it, and then Potter hooked his arm around Draco’s neck and drew him down and they were kissing again, rough and clumsy, the sharp tap-tap-tap of Draco’s hips knocking them off balance.
“Darling,” Draco said, muddled against his mouth, half out of his head with pleasure, “darling, darling,” and Potter, gasping, said, “Again.” Draco wasn’t sure if he wanted the fuck or the names that spilled out of him without meaning to, the embarrassing, heavy-handed adoration, and so Draco gave him both.
2. The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by lettered
“I know it’s stupid,” Malfoy said, “but I don’t want you to be with anybody else.” Harry thought of Rabbit.
“Look at me,” Malfoy said, and turned Harry's chin. Harry looked, watched Malfoy taking him, watched as his own hips came up to help him. “I want you to know it’s me,” Malfoy said. “It’s me taking you. Me fucking you. Me packed tight inside of you. Hold on, Harry.”
He was almost all the way out of Harry, he had pulled so far out, but now he slammed back in, head thrown back. It was harder and more brutal than his other thrusts, and it felt so deep and large, it hit the spot just perfectly, and Harry thought he might come without Malfoy even touching his cock. “That was a good one, wasn't it,” Malfoy said, and kissed him. “If you're good, I’ll give it to you again.”
“God, Malfoy. Do it.”
“I will,” Malfoy said, but now his thrusts were slow again, lazy. “Focus on me, Harry. Don’t think of anything else.” Then he did it again, thrusting hard and very fast, and Harry writhed. “It’s me,” Malfoy said again. “Don’t think of anyone else. Don’t think of anything else. It’s me. You can only think of me.”
3. Wild, orphaned
“Sometime,” Potter said, with a look on his face Draco didn’t quite recognise, “I’m going to make you ask for this.”
“I’m already asking,” Draco replied, parting his legs, drawing one knee up to his chest. Potter put his thumb back onto Draco’s arsehole for a few seconds, before replacing it with the head of his dick. He left it there, while Draco breathed in and out and tried not to push himself backwards onto it.
“No,” Potter said, “Like--” he cut off and wrapped his hand around Draco’s side, his fingers skimming over Draco’s hip bones. “Like, properly ask,” he said.
“Like beg?” Draco asked, turning to look. He smiled, syrupy and sweet. “Why would I need to beg, Potter? When you’re so eager to give it to me.”
4. What We Pretend We Can’t See by gyzym
“Harry,” Draco says, wondering, and Harry rolls his eyes and slams himself up, the first time, feels his whole body come alive with the sensation of Draco’s cock hitting hard against the back of his throat. Draco gets the idea and it’s quick, after that — he tightens his grip on Harry’s hair and fucks into Harry’s mouth and Harry lets him, encourages him, moans even as tears spring up at the corners of his eyes.
He grabs hold of Draco’s shirttails with both hands and holds on, and when he looks up to meet Draco’s eyes again Draco comes with a shout, body pitching forward, one hand still in Harry’s hair, the other landing on Harry’s shoulder to steady him. Harry sucks him through it, swallows down every drop before he lets Draco’s softening cock slip out of his mouth, and they’re both still for a second, gasping in the quiet room.
Then Draco says, “Merlin, Harry, that was so good,” and slips his hand down through Harry’s hair, strokes it over the nape of his neck. And Harry — he comes so hard and so quickly that it genuinely startles him, the orgasm shuddering through him before he even has the chance to process that it’s happening. He gasps, head crashing forward to land at Draco’s hip, and for a long moment he’s too overcome with the release of it to really register that he’s come in his pants like an actual fucking teenager, and that that is truly and properly mortifying.
5. Waiting by an Open Door by Femme
Draco leans back against Potter, arches back, his arms going backwards around Potter's neck. He lets Potter stroke his chest and praise him, tell him how brilliant he is, how amazing his feels around Potter's prick. It feels like it's been hours that they've been doing this, but it's only been a couple of minutes. The strangeness is shifting into pleasure, and when Potter circles his hips, his cock pressing further into Draco's body, Draco moans with the deep, satisfying ache of it. "Merlin, Potter. Again."
Potter leans forward, his mouth near Draco's ear. "Don't you think you should call me Harry if I'm fucking you?"
Draco smiles, leans his head back, seats himself more solidly on Potter's cock. "Why rush things?" He kisses Potter's jaw, bites the soft skin just below.
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Hii, I'm back. First off, I'm sorry about the request I send yesterday, I think? I didn't see the 'angst' under the 'don't do' 😭 🙇♀️but I'm back with a rant (I should pay you rent for staying in your asks this much- I can pay it with kaldo drawings 😭)
I recently checked the sons' ages and well- Doom, Fanim, Epidem and Delisaster were born with only 1 year of difference (also, the whole family was born of 11th of something- Innocent zero was a weird guy. He even shares birthday with Mash lol) and knowing that a pregnancy lasts 9 months there would be 4 months of non-pregnancy state with each of the 4 first sons (I calculated it- I needed to know if it was actually possible to pop out 4 kids in 4 years like that). Yes, they literally were born Doom-January, Fanim-February, Epidem-March and Delisaster-April (Domina was born in May, but Mash wanted to be different and was born in November 😭). There is a problem, Mash and Domina were born the same year, less than 9 months in between their birthdays. To which I can only find the excuses that, again, Mash wanted to be different and decided that he would be born premature lol (or they just speed up his birth, if mother was getting ill or her health was going down). Also, I checked how much each kid weights and I'm pretty sure Innocent zero starved them- BECAUSE WHAT DO YOU MEAN DOOM (who's 2 meters tall) WEIGHT ONLY 88KG??? THAT MF IS HUGE😭 My older brother (who's 25, 5 years younger than Doom, apparently) is like 1,80m and he weights 110kg😭 Domina (who's 1,76,i think) weights 68kg (that's around my weight, I'm 1,65± and 15 y/o). So, knowing that information I want to add that after mother fell into a coma, Innocent zero had more power over the sons so he starved them (bc before it was impossible. If they told mother that they wanted to eat, or even if they didn't, she gave them food and made sure they ate at least 3 times a day. Since she suffered a lot from starvation herself and almost every family member (all of her three brothers and her mom) died due to starvation), and it would also explain why tf Delisaster has such a thin waist.
It's also possible that, instead of her bearing the children in her womb, they just decided to mix their DNAs in an incubator of some sort. Innocent zero would say something that it wasn't necessary for her to bear them and that it wouldn't benefit neither of them, since he doesn't want for a strong ally to be unable to work for over 9 months and he read that it pregnancy can affect her health (again, that means that his ally will be weaker than before (imagine his reaction when she randomly falls into a coma after mash's 'birth'- and doesn't wake up for a long time). And mother would also prefer it by just mixing the DNAs (✨trauma✨, and probably not liking physical touch?). I'm also sure that after some time, Innocent zero would put some spell on mother just to keep her in the coma (let's say her necklaces worked only around itself and since it didn't cause any actual damage they weren't activated) so that he can manipulate the sons more. I also imagine them visiting her, maybe on their own birthdays or her birthday or just randomly showing up to check on her idk.
I also imagine that when Innocent zero is defeated by Mash and mother wakes up and gets context of everything that happened during her 'absence' (she really didn't care if the realm was destroyed since they didn't care about neither her or those similar to her), she would be mad with both Wahlberg and the divine visionaries (even though she didn't like the realm, she had some respect for Wahlberg when they were young bc he had good ambitions and she expected for him to at least try to make them reality) bc "what do you mean after 100 years the law against lackmagic is the fucking same and nothing changed? And then you dump it all onto a 15 y/o boy? Wtf" She would 100% slap Wahlberg in his face (and it's a good one, after all the sons didn't get the physical abilities from their father lol) and say that if they don't change things soon, she won't hesitate to start a revolution. I also don't know how would Mash react to his biological mother appearing out of nowhere. They would probably have a talk, at least and she would say that she won't interfere in his life unless he wants to and that he should contact Domina if he wants to talk with her or needs something from her, since she doesn't have a phone bc she was in a coma.
Also, after Innocent zero is defeated, I'm sure that the castle doesn't fall down, so as she wakes up she goes through it and sees all of her sons (or their remains) dead (Except Doom, since he did live after the battle with Mash) and she doesn't know the cause of it yet, but when she sees the 'arrows' that attacked Domina she would get the puzzle together that Innocent zero have killed at least one of her sons (she couldn't care less about the realm, but won't hesitate to hurt someone tenfold if they hurt her sons in the slightest), he would have had hurried to hunt that mf down, but tending to Doom's injuries is more of a priority at that time.
Anyway, I'm really sorry for that request, it was my bad. I would send a kaldo drawing as an apology, but I can't send photos when asking as anon🙇♀️ have a good time
-🎨anon
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(original ask:)
A/n: dear anon you sure are discovering a whole lot oh my goodness- now that you explain the entire thing I’m like o_o I’m literally confused about the logic (but anime/manga logic am I right?-) so I’m not sure what to do about this, would you still want the ask?
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day 3 of 12 days of the maxiel advent calendar lol. this one is sad in a bittersweet way. content warning for a discussion focused around the loss of a newborn child. Please don't read if that is something too upsetting to you <3 set in the same universe as this.
Underneath the apple tree in their garden, there’s a patch of daffodils.
They bloom every springtime, the vibrant shades of sunshine yellow enough to light up whatever room they are put into. The first bunch, Max always likes to arrange in the vase Grace and Joe gave them as a wedding gift, the second, third and fourth into each of the babies rooms. The air of the ranch becomes sweet with their scent, and at lunchtimes when Livia and Oli are called inside from playing, sticky pollen covers their fingertips.
“Papa,” Livia says to him on one of these September days, and Max knows to brace himself for a question by the curiosity laced in her voice. Like always, she does not disappoint.
“What happened to our big brother?”
The breath catches in Max’s throat.
He and Daniel had always agreed they would never keep their first son’s existence a secret from their children, no matter how hard it might be to help them understand. The idea of Theo becoming something that could only be spoken about in hushed whispers at convenient times was too painful when every day they felt his loss. The absence of a fourth pitch of giggles to hear playing from the next room every day, a second curly head for them to tuck safely into bed each night.
But this is the first time Livia has ever mused the ‘why’, of that out loud.
She is drawing a picture titled my family, her ‘homework’ for nursery. Max can see their flattering stick figure portraits, her and Oli almost as big as he and Daniel are, while Toni resembles an earthworm on the ground beside the four of them. In the top right-hand corner, just underneath the sun, she has drawn her eldest brother, complete with a set of pink angel wings.
“Me and Daddy told you, remember?” Max reminds her, but gently. His patience for his children is endless in a way it never was for racing. “Theo is in heaven.”
Max isn’t sure he believes in heaven, knows for a fact Daniel doesn’t, but he also knows how important it is for children to have good things to have faith in and to hope for, like the tooth fairy or Santa Clause. A source of comfort, the way his mum lighting candles used to be for him.
Livia nods seriously, busy scribbling what Max guesses is supposed to be Daniel’s hair if the twisting lines are anything to go by. Then, seemingly no longer satisfied with this answer she asks, “Why is he not with us?”
Daniel is out with Oli and Toni at the aquarium. The only reason Max and Livia aren’t with them is because in thirty minutes, they have to leave for the under 5’s football training Livia loves so much.
She get’s that from her Papa, Daniel likes to remind him, as though mashing keys on FIFA is comparable to the overexcited way their daughter squeals when she scores a goal.
Alone, Max feels totally unprepared for this. Daniel is so much better at wrapping the world up into words their children can understand and make peace with. For a moment, he almost asks her for a cuddle, the selfish reassurance of her warmth and the rise and fall of her chest as he holds her, but he doesn’t want to clue her into how hard this is for him.
He is her Papa, one of the two people who are meant to stand between her and all the bad in the world. Instead, he reaches to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she continues to draw and thinks back to how Theo’s little tuft had been all brown.
“When he was born, he was very poorly,” Max explains, and though it has been a very long time, it is as easy as anything to remember him in his hospital bed, tubes, wires and needles all protruding from his skin, tinged a sickly grey. “He wasn’t strong, like you, Oli and Toni.”
“Because he didn’t eat his carrots?” Livia asks, looking up at Max with owlish eyes, and Max has to laugh, charmed by her childish logic, her belief in everything he and Daniel tell her. He knows this phase won’t last forever, that they’ll soon be replaced with teachers and google, but for now he lets himself enjoy it.
“No,” he promises, shaking his head. “No, because something went wrong, when he was inside the tummy. Remember like me and Daddy told you that you used to be, also?”
She nods, enthusiastic suddenly to show off her knowledge.
“You had to find a lady to keep us in their belly so we could be borned,” she recites, and Max smiles. It feels like yesterday she was as small as Theo, and now she is big and smart, and her own little person, the way all of his babies got to be except for one.
“Exactly,” he encourages. “Well, when Theo was in the belly, something bad happened, so that when he was born he was sick. It made him very tired, and so he had to go to sleep forever, in heaven.”
Livia chews her lip like that still might not be enough to appease her. Max is just thinking about how to reword it, when-
“Will I ever get to see him?” She asks, like this has been the real reason for her line of questioning all along.
Thinking about the patch of daffodils where he and Daniel scattered the ashes of their first born’s, Max considers telling her that she sees him every spring, when Daniel goes out to collect a bunch to place in vases all around their home. That in a way, Theo has watched over her every year from his spot on their dresser, bringing added sunshine into their bedroom.
She is too little now though to truly understand. In time she will, but for now he wants to hold onto all the ways she is still his baby for just a little while longer. He is in no hurry for her to grow up.
“I don’t think so,” he says honestly, with an apologetic smile. “But I think he see’s you, watches you and your brother and sister play from the sky.”
Livia pauses, like maybe she has more questions and again Max braces himself.
“Okay,” is all she says though, and then she is picking up her crayons again. Max can’t help but lean over to kiss the top of her head, then tickle her side until she giggles, and swats him away telling him seriously, “Papa, you will make my drawing wonky.”
“Sorry, liefje,” he says, matching her tone, and then reaches for his phone.
Livy just asked me about Theo, he texts to Daniel. The last thing in their message thread is a photo of Oli, nose and palms pressed against the shark tank, and beneath it four words, our brave little fucker.
Unsurprisingly it’s only a few seconds before Daniel is typing a response.
its normal for her to have questions, and Max resists the urge to roll his eyes fondly, because of course, Max knows this.
Then, big kiss coming your way in approx 78 minutes, Mr Verstappen-Ricciardo.
Then, I love you.
I love you too, Max texts back, pocketing his phone. There isn’t much to be said over text, or even in person maybe, other than an repeat of what Livia asked, what Max explained to her. Everything else has already been said and these days can the pain can be shared with a simple kiss, and an evening holding each other as they watch their children play.
Turning his attention back to Livia now, her little hands clenched tightly in fists around a black crayon, he notices the strange circle shapes she is drawing over angel Theo’s eyes.
“What are these?” He asks bemused, pointing to them.
“Glasses Papa,” she says, like she thinks this should be very obvious. “Theo needs them to see us, if he is so high up.”
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.ﾟ۪ ♡ ۫ ... PRE-RELEASE SINGLE - DRAMA!
DRAMA is one of two pre-release singles for VENUS' fourth full studio album. DRAMA will be promoted for TWO WEEKS until the next single is released.
.ﾟ۪ ♡ ۫ ... MUSIC VIDEO AESTHETICS.
The DRAMA music video received 45 MILLION VIEWS in 24 hours and would remain number one on the Youtube trending page for 6 days. The video follows the girls through a technicolored cyberspace as they fight against a virus only known as "DRAMA" which is depicted as a dark and rapid-moving shadow.
.ﾟ۪ ♡ ۫ ... DRAMA LINE DISTRIBUTION.
.ﾟ۪ ♡ ۫ … BAEBI = 28.20 SECONDS
.ﾟ۪ ♡ ۫ … BLISS = 19.26 SECONDS
.ﾟ۪ ♡ ۫ … CHLOE = 49.15 SECONDS
.ﾟ۪ ♡ ۫ … SENA = 17.29 SECONDS
.ﾟ۪ ♡ ۫ … JIAH = 38.12 SECONDS
.ﾟ۪ ♡ ۫ ... PROMOTIONAL HIGHLIGHTS.
The girls were promoting DRAMA consistently for two weeks. For a solid two weeks, the girls were at music shows or other schedules promoting their upcoming album, which they revealed the name of at the end of their promotional period for DRAMA.
The album is called "VENUS VICTRIX" and will have 11 tracks. The creative direction for the album will be handled by long-time VENUS creative director Adrian Reyes. This differs from their last comeback, Burn The Witch, which was fully controlled by Venus themselves. While on Knowing Brothers, Chloe admits the girls experienced a lot of stress from handling all aspects of the album. "It was too much. We would be up until 5 AM almost every night trying to get everything to work, and we agreed that for this album, we want more rest!" which earned laughs from the hosts and from fans alike.
During an episode of "Visting Venus," they had Adrian come on to explain the lore of the album to them in a classroom-like setting with the girls at desks and him at a chalkboard, pointing with a stick and aggressively writing with a red piece of chalk.
"It's basically, like, Venus' Victory. The girls are trapped in a harsh cyber world but manage to break out and transform the landscape into something habitable," Adrian would explain, drawing a loosely thrown-together professor-esque outfit and round specs.
Klara, drawing a school uniform and thick-rimmed classes, would raise her hand. "And how will we break out from this world?"
"Easy," Adrian starts, pulling down a projector screen that has three big words on it in comic sans font, "Dance, music, and friendship."
The video was a massive hit with fans and had them on the edge of their seats waiting for the album's release.
Though they gave it their all at every performance, it was clear the girls were tired and being overworked. In most vlogs, you'd often see members sleeping on one another during their breaks at music shows or expressing how sore they were from all the performing they were doing. The Venus members, with the exception of Klara, would assure fans they were fine and liked working especially. Klara, however, would go on to post a singular mirror selfie of herself at 3 AM on her Instagram story with the caption, "just got back. can't wait for my powernap before i have to go back lol" but the story was quickly deleted and followed by a video of the maknae laughing and apologizing.
"That was meant for my close friend. My bad, my bad! Stop worrying. I'm just complaining! I swear to God if y'all mass email Flowerbank I'll have a tantrum. Don't worry about me!"
While this moment went viral on stan Twitter, constellations couldn't help but to worry for the girls. However, their worries were seemingly quelled once they got another stage of DRAMA to entertain them.
.ﾟ۪ ♡ ۫ ... LOOK BOOK.
.ﾟ۪ ♡ ۫ … LEFT 2 RIGHT: BLISS, BAEBI, CHLOE, SENA, AND JIAH
The girls wore wigs during their promotions, concealing their actual hair colors. While sometimes the wigs looked natural, especially Sena and Jiah's, there were times when the wigs looked straight from Party City. Due to their status in the industry, people called this style choice "camp" and praised them for it.
YOU CAN GET YOUR DRAMA PHOTOCARDS HERE!
#╰ * venus : discography ⧽ burn it to the ground .#ficnetfairy#fictional idol group#fictional idol community#kpop fanfic#idol oc#kpop oc#fake kpop oc#kpop au#idol au#kpop addition#idolverse#oc girl group#bts addition#fake kpop girl group#fake kpop idol#oc kpop group#stray kids addition
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a stray cat from a toy shop
while i'd noted it before, this post by @iwtvfanevents gave me a title for the cat painting in claudia's room: The Kitten's Art Lesson by Henriëtte Ronner-Knip. (if you enjoy being insane like me go read the artist's biography at the link, but keep in mind that just because you CAN draw parallels doesn't mean they were necessarily intentional. but they ARE delightful.)
let's take a look at the kitten's art lesson!
the kittens are studying under the watchful eye of the adult cat, who seems disappointed by the lack of decorum. the kittens are in a playful mood! one of them has torn through a painting. another is clinging to the art board with tooth and nail... just playing or trying to hold on after nearly falling? a couple are in a half closed drawer—almost like they could be trapped inside at any moment. one has actually found a paint brush but doesn't seem to know what to do with it. the teacher is not impressed.
i can't help but note the one staring towards us from the drawer looks awfully familiar:
the art teacher and students aren't the only cats in claudia's room; there's also a cat statuette on the mantle (click to see the closeups in full.)
above the cat painting, there's a blurry painting of what looks like some women sitting, and one of them looks she might have a cat in her lap, though that might be wishful thinking on my part. the bottom of the painting blends in so well with the wallpaper that at first glance i actually thought the painting had been cut into, which sent me on a wild train of thought but yeah that's not actually true lol. but the effect is interesting regardless. the cat on the mantle definitely evokes the idea that it escaped from the painting nearby, and could flee at any moment—and in episode 6, it's no longer on the mantle or anywhere else that i can see.
i wonder if it broke along with so much else in the house at the end of episode 5, or if claudia moved it somewhere. fellow insane people keep an eye out, a kitty's gone loose!
so... why cats?
there aren't many cat references in iwtv compared to other animals, but the ones that are there speak volumes. in episode 3, we see louis bite into a black cat as a substitute for the human blood he craves. later in the evening lestat says he "fears for the feline population of new orleans" (after comparing louis to fish and birds). when louis reaches a breaking point, "rats, cats, dogs, would no longer suffice." so what he really wants or needs is something else?
in the next episode, claudia delivers the punchline:
“I used to [live around here] too. I remember there used to be a toy shop a few doors down by there. They used to keep stray cats in boxes for people to take.”
claudia sees herself as a cat. louis took her in like a stray—a helpless little kitten in need of rescue—and he took her (took for free because no one else wanted her) from a box at a toy shop—a place where you find things to play with.
but cats love to play and they love sleeping in boxes so this is fine actually!
...right?
claudia knows herself much better than anyone else in this show. she is a cat in a kitten's body.
the thing you always have to keep in mind about cats is that they are not docile and subservient by nature. they don't do things because they are told but because they choose to. a cat's fur may be pretty and soft to touch, but don't forget those sharp teeth and claws! it's not that they don't like to be pet at all, you just have to get permission first. and even if you do, they might just change their mind, as is their right.
cats do like good company but they also like their independence. they prefer to come and go as they please; not to be locked up inside, and not to be kept on leashes. they like boxes because they feel safe in there, but they also like to jump out for play time: hunt! catch! kill!
they may be small and cute and soft but they're still predators, and brutal ones. if they don't get to hunt for their food in your care, you better find them another outlet or they'll go for your ankles. they developed that instinct to survive, but hunting also happens to be fun! cats love to play with their food.
if you manage to earn their trust, they'll make for wonderful companions—but do not make the mistake of assuming you can ever own them... or you'll have to sleep with one eye open like they do. they're quick and clever but also patient, and they know how to move without a sound. let them out of your sight for even a second, and you won't know what hit you until it's too late. and they'll relish the kill!
no matter how others may speak of her, claudia is not a lap dog, nor a bird in a feathered nest. lestat is not a beauceron herding sheep, and his last name does not make him a lion. the three of them are not fellow dogs either. from the very beginning, claudia knows she's a cat. and by the end, she realizes what lestat let slip in the pilot: he's just an overgrown fucking rat. and while “a cat and a rat” rhymes, that does not mean they're the same thing.
#spark in the dark#interview with the vampire#hopefully this inspires me to finally make that pig reference compilation soon that's another great motif#also there's some fish stuff which i don't really have a great handle on yet. i should probably make the compilation just to figure it out#iwtv#claudia#s#iwtv animals#vampterview#vampterviewing
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Trick or Treat Counseling AU
trick or treat 😻🎃☠️
Here’s a silly 5 sentence fragment (jk it was supposed to be a 5 sentence fragment but nvm it’s like 20 lol):
Anakin bolts from the kitchen to the couch with a speed only possible through misuse of the Force.
Obi-Wan would comment on it, if only because he knows how much Anakin resents it when he does so, but he himself is rather preoccupied with the blinking comm sequence in the air.
Ahsoka has not voluntarily reached out to talk with them since the immediate aftermath of the war when she called frantic and rather wounded herself to make sure that they were still alive.
It’s set a rather bad precedent, if Obi-Wan’s being honest—now her name lights up his comm link and all he can think of is has someone almost died once more?
“Well, pick it up, pick it up,” Anakin urges him in the tone of voice of one who is absolutely thinking the same thing.
The blue lighted figure of Ahsoka is small and grainy, as if her connection, wherever she is, is bad.
“Snips!” Anakin says, body like a live wire beside Obi-Wan even as his voice sounds casual. “How are you?”
“Masters,” Ahsoka replies, dipping her head. She’s smiling slightly though her countenance otherwise can only be described as befuddled. “I received a packet of…questions. From a Sheari Flot’inae?”
“Oh wow, that was fast,” Anakin says. “We just gave her your name a few hours ago. Do you have questions about it? She said the packet would be sort of obvious.”
“Right,” Ahsoka says. “So. Just one question actually. Is this a joke or something?”
Her head is tilted to the right and her voice is confused; immediately, Obi-Wan understands she means no harm whatsoever in the asking.
The question stings all the same, and across their open bond, he can feel Anakin’s equal hurt.
“No,” Obi-Wan says carefully, allowing his hands to tighten around each other in his lap where they cannot be seen. “It is not. We, ah. We have recently decided that it would be for the best if we…addressed some of the problems in our relationship. To help us grow as people and partners.”
“Cause walking away isn’t an option,” Anakin adds, voice unreadable. Obi-Wan barely resists the urge to close his eyes.
“Our counselor requested we send her a handful of names that she could contact,” he says quickly. “With a questionnaire similar to one we filled out upon our intake with her. So she can get an outsider’s perspective on our relationship.”
“Right,” Ahsoka says slowly, drawing out the letters. “So this questionnaire is like the one you guys filled out…about your relationship with each other. And I’m supposed to take it seriously.”
“And complete it sober,” Anakin nods. “That’s important.”
Obi-Wan coughs. “It would mean so much to us, Ahsoka, if you were to help us in this. I know—we do not have the right to ask anything of you, that this may just be another burden we are placing on your shoulders unfairly and for our own personal gain, but no one knows us the way you do.” He clears his throat, and anakin’s hand falls to rest against the back of his. “You of all people would know how we are together in our happiest and at our worst. It would mean so much to me if you took this task seriously and with the wisdom and thoughtfulness I have always admired in you.”
“Right,” Ahsoka says. Her cheeks look darker, and Obi-Wan hopes she’s taken his words to heart. “So for question 6, what would you like me to put? Cause I’m not sure I understand why I’m being asked this if this isn’t all just a joke.”
Obi-Wan can feel his confusion mirrored on Anakin’s side of the bond. “What’s question 6?” Anakin asks.
Ahsoka looks down at the sheet of flimsi in her hand. “On a scale of one to five with five being very comfortable, how comfortable would you say the couple is with public displays of affection? For example, have you ever seen them kiss each other in public? If you can remember a specific time, please note.”
She raises her head to look at them, markings where her eyebrows would be if she were human raised high. “I can’t say I remember, Masters, so should I put that you save all the kissing for your quarters or will that make you sound too frigid?”
[trick or treat ask game!]
#asks#obikin#couples counseling au#yeah this is the moment they realize they’re in couples counseling#bless them <3
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Magic and Knights AU
The Sphinx's Riddle
Summary: You are a sphinx, a member of a desert dwelling people who guard the temple to the Goddess. At least, that's what you're supposed to do. There have been no heroes to visit the Goddess in centuries, and you, a Sphinx who is just a little too good at seeing through illusions, learn the sickening truth about the Patron who your people have served for generations...and now you're his prisoner, deep within the temple.
Pairing: Pre-Fixer x F!Reader
Word Count: 7447
Warnings: The Patron is described as a half rotting corpse. Reader is an anxious mess
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni
A/N: Wow, this took forever for me to finish, but I also wrote, like, 30 some odd pages since 5 pm yesterday, so I guess I just needed inspiration, lol.
You sniffle and curl your arms around your legs. It’s cold, so very cold. You must be deep beneath the temple for it to be so cold. You tug the thin blanket your mother gave you tighter over your shoulders, and it does almost nothing to ward off the cold.
You don’t understand how this happened.
A chain rattles down the hall, and you wince and bury your face into your arms. You hear the chains rattle down the hall and feel, more than see, someone peering into your cell.
“Are you ready to beg for forgiveness, child?” A voice, soft and silky and smooth, slithers through the room and you clamp your hands over your ears on the top of your head, and you can feel your tail twitching with anxiety under your blanket. You don’t want to hear this. Don’t want to hear him. But his voice cuts like a hot knife through butter, “Not yet ready to beg for my mercy, child?”
The cell door creaks open, and you tremble when you feel a hand, cold and almost skeletal, run through your cropped hair.
“Have I not treated you and the rest of your people well?” Your hands tighten over your ears, pressing them flat against the top of your head, “Have you not thrived while under my watchful eye? Have I not gifted you all with great beauty and great intelligence? And I all ask in return is your undying fealty…and you deny me that one small thing?”
The hand fists in your hair and jerks your head up and back, and you squeeze your eyes shut, to avoid looking into the flaming eyes of the man your people have served for thousands of years.
Though there’s no hiding from the stench of rotting flesh.
“Look at me, child.”
You, stubbornly, refuse to open your eyes. And a heavy sigh escapes from your captor, the scent of rotting meat washes over you. The scent is strong enough that you gag.
And he finally releases you, and steps away, heavy chains dragging along the stone floor.
“You disappoint me, child.” And he sounds so, very, disappointed. Your heart lurches in your chest, but you very pointedly don’t look at him, or speak to him.
You know, in the same way that you know the sun will rise every morning, that if you give him the chance, he will slither his way into your psyche, like the viper he is, and you will no longer see him for the monster he is.
You hear a deep inhale, and the chains move closer again. You take a chance to open your eyes, and you see his feet, swollen and purple and putrid-
You slam your eyes shut. Just in time as his hand fists in your hair and you’re jerked, roughly, to your feet. “If you will not obey,” He says, “Then you will be punished.”
And then you feel something strange against your cheek. Warm and slightly rough and slimy-
A choked off scream or revulsion slips from you when you realize that it’s his tongue sliding across your face.
Panic wars with sheer terror, and your mind both goes blank and starts racing a million miles per hour.
And then you reach inward, towards that warm golden glow that belongs to you and no one else. You grab the glow with both hands and hold it close, drawing comfort from the natural magic of your people.
You let the glow grow and fill you, from the bottoms of your broken feet to the tips of your roughly cropped hair, and you lash out with one strong burst of magic.
The room fills with the golden glow of the midday sun, and you hear a vicious scream of pain, before you’re flung against the hard wall, and you slide to the ground.
You hear the cell door open, and then slam shut, and then you release a shuddering sob as soon as you’re alone. You quickly clamp your hand over your mouth, refusing to give that thing any more power over you than he already had.
You are going to die here.
There’s no one to save you.
You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been in this dungeon.
There are no windows, and He comes down to visit you at such random times, that there’s no way to keep track.
You know it’s been more than a week. Perhaps more than two at this point. You’re still getting fed, though it’s 50-50 on whether the food is edible. Everything he brings you is rotten to the point that it’s inedible. It’s something that happened to food in his presence.
Though, sometimes, a member of the family brings you food instead. The meals are simple, soups and breads and water, but it’s enough that you’re not in danger of dying.
But it’s not enough for you to keep your strength up. Which, you suppose, is the point. The weaker you are, the more likely you are to give in.
You roll onto your side, your back towards the cell door, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you curl your hand around your tail, a nervous habit that you thought you grew out of ages ago…but apparently not. You’re so exhausted that it’s a wonder that you haven’t passed out yet.
You tense when you hear the familiar sound of chains dragging on the stone floor. The noise stops in front of your cell, but the door doesn’t open. Instead the cell across from yours creaks open, and you hear the sound of something heavy hitting the floor, and then the door slams shut.
The sound of chains drags away until the dungeon is silent once more.
You roll onto your other side and slowly crawl over to the door. You peek through the bars at the bottom of the door and you try to squint into the other cell.
It’s no use, the dungeon is too dark. You can barely see your own cell, let alone into the one opposite of yours.
You hesitate for a moment, and once you’re sure that you’re alone, you hold your hand out and summon a spark of your magic. The spark floats from your hand, across the hall, and into the other cell. It offers enough light to see a young man, maybe around your age, with dark hair.
“Hey,” Your voice is soft. He doesn’t respond, “Hey!” You repeat a little louder, “Are you still alive?”
There’s silence for a moment, and then you hear a groan, and the young man moves, “Stop yelling.”
“Oh, thank the goddess,” You breathe out, you shift a little closer to the bars, and squint at the man, “W-what’s your name?”
He groans again, and you watch as he rolls over and peers at you through the bars of his own door. He’s bleeding from a wound on his temple. “Fixer, what’s yours?” You hesitate for a moment, and then introduce yourself, and he nods once, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m going to remember that.” He admits as he presses his hand to his head and grimaces.
“It’s okay, you have a head wound. It looks like someone hit you with something heavy. You’re lucky you’re not dead.”
He grimaces, “You aren’t wrong about that,” Fixer touches the wound on his head and then drops his hand, “Where are we, sarad?”
“You’re in the old shrine,” You explain quietly, “We’re…we’re pretty deep underground.”
“How long have you been here?”
“I…don’t know. He keeps trying to get me to serve him again, but I can’t…” You hesitate, “Fixer, listen to me. When he comes, you can’t look at him. You can’t meet his eyes. That’s how he exerts his control over people.”
Fixer stares at you for a moment, and then he nods slowly, “Alright. I’ll keep that in mind.”
You release a quiet sigh of relief, “How did he even catch you? You look…well, you look like you can hold your own.”
Fixer grimaces and presses a hand to his temple, “I wasn’t expecting to be attacked. This area is so far away from the front lines-”
“Front lines?” You ask.
Fixer stares at you for a moment, “Mandalore is at war with Serrano.” He explains slowly.
“Oh. I didn’t know.” You reply quietly.
“I can tell.” He stares at you for a long moment, “Is there a way out?”
“Of the cells or the temple?” You ask.
“Both.”
“I haven’t found a way out of the cells, but I also wouldn’t know what to look for.” You reply after considering his question carefully, “But the temple has many exits. Just most of them are sealed with magic.”
Fixer frowns, and then you see his gaze flicker to the small orb of light, and then back to you, “Magic like yours?”
“Supposedly. The lower levels of the temple haven’t been regularly visited in…” You shake your head, “I don’t know how long. Before I was born.”
“But,” Fixer says intensely as he stares you in the eye, “If I can get us out of the cells, can you navigate the lower levels of the temple safely?”
“I can try.”
He nods and opens his mouth to say something, only to pause when the sound of chains rattling down the stairs echoes off the stone walls.
You immediately douse the golden light, and scramble to the back of your cell, screwing your eyes shut and turning your head away from the door as the noise gets closer and closer.
He stops in front of your cell, and the door rattles open.
Your breath quickens in fear as the sound of chains gets closer and closer, until you’re able to hear the sickening squelching sound of him approaching you.
And then he stops. And, for a moment, you hear nothing but the deep rattle of his breath and you can only smell rotting flesh, and then a skeletal hand lands on the top of your head, and you cringe away from him, or your try to, he’s quick to fist his hand in your hair.
“My dearest daughter,” He coos, and you slap your hands over your ears. His voice hurts, and you don’t want to hear him. “Have you met the sacrifice? I’m sure you have. Your sisters and cousins have been so good to bring me such a fine specimen. And as I was thinking about it, I came up with a wonderful idea-”
He pauses, as if waiting for you to respond, and when you don’t he shakes you violently enough that the back of your head cracks against the wall, pulling a pained cry from your throat.
“My idea, my dear, is that you’ll be the one doing the sacrificing. Aren’t I such a kind and devoted patron?”
You don’t reply, there’s no point. You can’t convince him that he’s wrong, anymore than you could convince your family, so you just shake your head.
He sighs, and you gag as the scent of rotting flesh grows stronger.
He grabs you and flings you into a wall, pulling a second cry of pain from your lips, and then you hear the sound of him moving away from you, “Unfortunate, but it won’t be the first time I have to sacrifice one of my sphinxes.” He says loud enough to be heard over the sound of rattling chains. And then he’s gone, the sound of the chains fading away to silence.
You clamp your hand over your mouth to muffle your sob, you don’t want to die, not to him. Not to make him stronger-
And then you jump as the cell across the hall creaks open. You turn to your cell door, and watch, stunned, as Fixer picks the lock, and slides the door open. He looks…furious. Furious enough that you cringe back away from him.
Fixer’s expression gentles, and he enters your cell and he kneels in front of you. “Are you okay?” He asks.
You slowly nod, wincing as the movement shoots pain through your head. “I’ve had worse.” You admit.
Fixer’s gaze flickers down to your bare feet, which are badly bruised, and then to your tail, which has bald spots from stress, “I don’t doubt it.” He agrees, and then he helps you to your feet, “It’s time to go, sarad. How do we get out of here without crossing that…thing?”
“We have to go deeper.” You explain, pointing further down the hallway. “It’s going to get cold.”
“That’s fine. We’ll go slow, and stick together.” Fixer pins you with a severe look, “If you can’t keep up, you need to let me know.”
“I’ll keep up!” You say quickly, “Please don’t leave me behind-”
Fixer’s touch against your shoulder is so very gentle that you kind of want to cry, when was the last time someone was kind to you? “I’m not going to leave you behind, sarad. I just need to know if I need to slow down for you.”
You nervously lick your lips, and you wince when you taste blood, “I can keep up.” You whisper.
“Don’t push yourself if you can’t. I’m not leaving you behind. I’ll remind you as often as I need to.” Fixer says, and then he lightly tugs you out of your cell and he casts his gaze around, “You said we need to go deeper.”
“Yeah. There’s…or, well, there should be a path that I can open.”
“Should be?”
You shrink under his gaze, and avert your eyes, “Um…”
“It’s fine. We’ll figure it out as we go.” Fixer offers you his hand, “Come on.”
Nervously you take his hand, and Fixer gently propels you down the hall, into the dark.
It takes less than ten minutes for him to stop, a curse falling from his lips, “What’s wrong?” You ask.
“I can’t see,” Fixer says, “It’s black as pitch down this hall.”
You blink at him, and then turn to the hall yourself. It’s…not that dark. Sure, it’s not as bright as it might be outside, but you can see clearly enough. Hesitantly you squeeze his hand and tug him down the hall.
“...you can still see?” Fixer asks, and you can feel his stare on the back of your head without looking over your shoulder at him. “Right. Sphinx.”
“Um, it shouldn’t be far. The tunnels underneath the shrine are probably well lit.” You reply nervously as you lead him through the darkened halls, casting your gaze across the floor and walls as you walk.
According to the stories, the passage will be marked with a symbol only visible to a sphinx’s eyes. You hope the stories were accurate. Or else this is going to be a very short escape attempt.
You turn to check on Fixer, who’s been very quiet since you’ve started leading him, and…there!
Your head snaps to the side, when you catch a glimpse of something golden glittering on the wall, and you slow to a stop. “I found it.” You tug him over to the wall, and reach up to touch the sigil, your own magic flowing to the surface of your skin as you touch it.
The magic is old. Ancient even. Old enough that it barely recognizes you as a sphinx, and for one heart stopping moment, you worry that the magic is going to reject you, and then there’s the sensation of sunlight against your skin, and a part of the wall melts away into nothing.
You very nearly topple into the opening, and if it wasn’t for Fixer’s strong arm suddenly around your waist holding you steady, you would have.
“Is that the opening?” He asks, his voice low in your ear.
You nod, and then, remembering that he can’t see, you hasten to add, “Yeah. Um, there’s some kind of magic…I can’t see through it.”
“Does it feel dangerous to you?”
Your tail and ears twitch as you consider his question and the feel of the magic in front of you, “It feels like it could be, under the right circumstances.” You finally reply as he releases you and settles a hand on your shoulder.
“Alright. Then we continue.” Fixer says.
“Are…are you sure? I don’t think it will hurt me no matter what, but-”
His grip tightens on your shoulder, “The death we choose is better than any death that this god might give us, sarad. We need to continue. No matter what.”
“...okay.” You lightly take his hand again, and then you take a deep breath and step into the shadow, squeezing your eyes shut as you do so.
Stepping through the shadow feels like walking through cobwebs, and you have to fight the urge to release Fixer’s hand to wipe the sensation off of your face and bare arms. But the sensation dissipates just as quickly as it appeared, and as you open your eyes you’re relieved to see that your prediction about light was correct.
You turn to look at Fixer, and notice that he’s watching the wall slide back into place. “Looks like there’s no way back,” He murmurs, before he glances at you, “And it looks like the only way forward is down.”
“I did warn you,” You say nervously.
He smiles reassuringly, “I know, I’m not mad. I’m actually relieved that you were right.”
“...you are?”
“It means that the stories you were told were right.” He looks around a moment longer, and then he steps off the platform and onto the first step, “So, sarad, what else did your family tell you?”
Fixer’s not sure what to think of Sarad. He knows it’s not her name, but he can’t, for the life of him, remember what her actual name is. It’s frustrating to the point of maddening, honestly, but he can’t think about that now.
Not when the young woman trailing behind him is so nervous and jumpy about absolutely everything.
Not when there’s a literal god hunting them.
She’s thin. Too thin. He has a feeling that she’s been in that cell for a lot longer than she’s even considered. The fur on her tail is patchy, and he can’t help but wonder if she realizes that she’s pulling her own fur out.
He frowns and reaches back to stop her from pulling some more of her fur out, carefully taking her hand in his as they continue down the stairs. “So, Sarad, what else did your family tell you?” Fixer asks.
You frown and tug on one of your ears, and Fixer sighs, he doesn’t have enough hands to stop her from pulling on her ears when she’s nervous, and she’s always nervous. “Grandmother used to tell a story,” Sarad says slowly, “About how, a long time ago, heroes would come to the shrine to ask for a boon from the Goddess-”
“Wait. Goddess?” Fixer asks, “The person holding us was definitely male.”
She nods, “Grandmother says that the Goddess lives in the realm of the divine, and that the man who the sphinx people serve is her most loyal servant. Though I’m pretty sure that’s not accurate.”
“Clearly,” Fixer replies dryly as he reaches up to stop her from tugging on her ear, “Continue.”
“Um, right. Well, heroes would come to the shrine to ask a boon from the Goddess, and they would have to go through her trials. We, the sphinx people, were the guardians of the trials. It was our job to determine if a hero could enter the trials or not.”
“And what were the trials?” Fixer asks, a feeling of dread filling him.
“Um…I don’t know.” She admits nervously, “There haven’t been any heroes trying to enter the shrine in generations. Sorry.”
“Hey, you don’t have to apologize for not knowing. It’s not your fault.” Fixer replies. “Things get lost to history all the time. It just means we have to be careful.”
“You.” She says, and he shoots her a puzzled look, “You have to be careful.”
Fixer slows to a stop and he turns to look Sarad in the eye, “What, exactly, do you mean?”
“Uhm, well,” She tries to grip her tail again, but Fixer swiftly grabs both of her hands and threads his fingers with hers so she’s not able to pull her fur out, “Well…the trials are meant for heroes, and the Sphinx people were guides,” She says quickly while staring at the joined hands in puzzlement, “The trials won’t…er…shouldn’t activate for me.”
“But they will for me.”
“Supposedly.”
Fixer considers her words for a moment, and then he nods slowly, “Good.” He says decisively, “You’re injured. More injured than I am, and more injured than you want to admit.”
She ducks her head, “It’s not so bad.”
“Sarad,” He says softly, gently, “Did you even notice that you’ve been pulling out your fur?”
Her gaze snaps to his face and then drops to her tail, and her face falls, “I…no…I did that?”
“You’ve been in that cell for a lot longer than I think either of us will ever know,” Fixer continues, his voice still so soft, “So I’m going to take care of you. And when we get out of here, I’m taking you with me.”
Sarad blinks at him, “What about my people?”
“I’m going to be really mean for a moment and tell you that I don’t care about your people.” Fixer says bluntly, “I care about you. And getting you, specifically, to safety.”
“It’s not their fault! They’re just…they’re brainwashed-”
“Does that make it better?” Fixer interrupts, “What they did to you? What they allowed to be done to you?” She hesitates for a moment, and Fixer continues, “Would you be able to live with them, with the memory of everything that happened to you still living in your head?”
“I…” She trails off, unable to answer, which is an answer in and of itself.
“Will you let me take care of you, Sarad?” Fixer asks, “Will you let me help you? Someday we’ll come back, and we’ll set things right, but we can’t do that with just two people.”
She gnaws on her lower lip for a moment, and then she nods. “I can agree to that.”
Fixer relaxes slightly and a small smile crosses his face, “Thank you.” He reaches out and lightly smooths his hand over her knotted hair, and is surprised when he hears a noise that can only be a purr.
She flushes, mortified, and Fixer releases a laugh as he pets the top of her head a little longer, “How long has it been since someone touched you without the intention to hurt you, sarad?”
“I don’t remember.” She whispers, and then she ducks her head, “Can we keep moving, please?”
He flashes a small grin at her, and then pulls his hand away, only to reach down and take her hand in his once again, “Stay close, Sarad.”
The staircase is massive. And, luckily, it’s not too steep and the stone isn’t too rough on your bare feet, but you’re still grateful that Fixer seems to know when you’re not able to walk any further. In fact, he seems to know when you’re unable to go any further before you are.
At the moment, your arms are around his neck while he continues carrying you down the steps.
“Ah,” Fixer says with a relieved sigh, as he stops and lightly sets you back on your feet. You can see, right away, what caught his attention. An open room, decorated in whites and golds, and a large door on the opposite side of the room. “The first trial, I take it?” Fixer asks you.
You glance at him and shrug, “That would be my guess.”
“Right.” Fixer closes his eyes in thought, “Okay, stay close to me, Sarad. And stay behind me, I don’t want you to get hurt.”
You nod and wrap your hands around his upper arm, and then release him again when he shoots you a look, and you sheepishly grab the back of his shirt, “Sorry. I’m a little nervous.”
“It’s okay.” He gives you a moment, “Are you ready?”
“I…I think so.”
Fixer nods once, and starts down the stairs, slowly so as to not rush you, and as soon as the both of you are in the large room, the stairs completely vanish, pulling a startled squeak from you as you press against his back, “It’s okay, sarad. It’s okay. It’s just a little magic. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
You cling to him for a moment longer, and then slowly release him, “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You’re okay.” Fixer looks you over for a moment, “We need to take a break, as soon as we can. A proper night's sleep will help you feel better.”
There’s a sudden swell of magic, and you instinctively lay your ears flat against your head, “Fixer-”
“I know, stay behind me.” He says, his gaze darting around the room.
WELCOME HERO
A voice, loud enough that you have to clamp your hands over your ears to make it a little more tolerable, echoes through the room.
WELCOME TO THE GODDESS’ TRIALS
The booming voice continues.
WHAT IS IT THAT YOU SEEK, HERO
“A way out,” Fixer says as he makes sure that you’re still behind him, “All I want is a way out. For both of us.”
There’s silence for a moment, and then, again, the booming voice returns.
WHAT IS IT THAT YOU SEEK, HERO
“I-”
“You have to give an answer,” You whisper, “It’s a spell, designed to activate the trial. Only after you give it an answer. You have to answer in the form of, ‘I seek-’.”
Fixer glances at you, and then frowns, “Seems a bit…convoluted. But fine. I seek,” He emphasizes, “an escape from the temple, for myself and my companion.”
Nothing happens for a moment, and Fixer frowns. Your ears twitch as you search for any sound of movement anywhere in the room, but there’s nothing.
YOU SEEK SAFETY FOR YOURSELF AND ONE OTHER. CONTINUE TO THE TRIAL.
A wall slides open on the other side of the room, and Fixer grimaces. “I thought you said that you weren’t going to be involved in the trials?” He asks.
“I think…I think it’s because you mentioned me.” You offer hesitantly, not really sure yourself.
“Damn. Sorry, Sarad.” He mutters, “Come on. Let’s get this over with.” And then he pauses, “Wait, what kind of trials are there?”
“All sorts. There are puzzles and combat and combat puzzles-” You reply nervously.
Fixer grimaces, “Alright. I guess we’ll be going blind from here.” He leads you to the opening in the wall, and as soon as the both of you are on the other side, the wall slides shut again.
“No backtracking allowed,” You whisper as you lightly grip his arm.
“We probably should have guessed that.” He murmurs back to you as he leads you down the stairs.
It’s a much shorter staircase this time, and the room that the pair of you come to is massive, though the only thing in the room is a massive statue. The statue looked like it should have been a woman cloaked in cloth, but the statue has been ruined over the years.
“Who’s that supposed to be?” Fixer asks.
“I think it’s meant to be an aspect of the Goddess,” You reply, “There…there aren’t any depictions of her anymore. They’ve all been destroyed by time.”
“By time? Or by the creature who’s calling himself the Sphinxes Patron?”
“I don’t know. Either one is possible.”
“Hm,” Fixer motions for you to stay near the staircase as he slowly walks around the room, looking for a possible exit, “Hey, Sarad?”
“Yeah?”
“When did heroes stop coming to the temple?”
“Oh, uh…” You tug on some of your hair as you try to remember, “It’s been centuries, if I remember correctly. The stories all say that it’s because there aren’t any more heroes.”
“Hm…does that sound right to you?” Fixer asks.
You’re quiet for a long moment, “I think…” You trail off, and then you fold your arms, “I think the heroes stopped coming here because they were all dying. I think they were sacrificed, just like you were going to be.”
“I think you’re probably right,” Fixer agrees, “All the more reason for us to get out. Unfortunately, I don’t see anything that could be an exit, or a puzzle.”
You move further into the room, and the staircase vanishes as soon as you’re far enough away. You make your way over to Fixer, though you keep your gaze locked on the statue. “I think it has something to do with the statue.”
His gaze drifts to the statue, “That tracks,” Fixer moves over to the statue and carefully runs his fingers over the base, “No-there’s nothing…ah, wait.” He pauses and crouches on the side, “There’s something here-”
Fixer examines the item he found closely, and he frowns, “I think it’s a pressure plate. There’s a symbol carved on it.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then he frowns, “Come here, Sarad. I’m not activating this unless you’re next to me.”
You cross the room, back to his side, and lightly curl your fingers around the back of his shirt. “Okay. Go ahead.”
Fixer presses the plate, and there’s a sudden surge of warmth. Magic coils around the pair of you, and suddenly you find yourself on the other side of the room. And the floor is covered in tiles with different symbols etched on them.
And on the other side of the room, a wall opens.
“That’s our way out, I take it.” Fixer says, as his gaze lingers on the tiles on the floor, “What do you think?”
You open your mouth to say something, but the words die in your throat.
“Sarad?” He turns to look at you, and then he pauses, “What’s that?”
You shoot him a puzzled look. Fixer stands and slowly reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against your neck.
“There’s…some kind of magic wrapped around your neck.” Fixer says slowly, “It encircles your entire neck.” He frowns, “Are you able to speak?”
You open your mouth to say something, but the words die in your throat again, and your ears flatten against your head.
“I guess not.” He murmurs, “Good thing you’re so expressive.” He frowns at the magic collar thoughtfully, “I guess this is to keep us from cheating? Even if you know the answer, you can’t tell me because the collar prevents you?”
He lightly squeezes your shoulder, “It’s okay, Sarad.” Fixer says soothingly when he sees your distress, “I don’t need help with the puzzles, you don’t have to worry. Stay here. I think the room will reset to normal once I’m at the other side.”
He squeezes your shoulder one more time, and then releases you to turn his attention towards the panels on the floor.
Fixer examines each panel closely, and then after several minutes of this, he steps on one of the panels, and slowly, carefully, makes his way across the room.
Each floor panel he steps on lights up in a warm golden color, and as he makes his way across the room, you feel your anxiety lessen. Fixer doesn’t move onto the next panel unless he’s sure that it’s the right one, and though it takes time, eventually he finds his way to the other side of the room, and he presses his hand against a glowing sigil on the wall.
There’s a blinding flash of light, and, as you blink the spots out of your eyes, you notice that the room has returned back to its original state, save for the open wall on the other side of the room.
“Come on, Sarad,” Fixer says as he turns his gaze towards you, “We can move on now.” He doesn’t move from his spot next to the wall until you’re safely at his side, and he immediately taps your chin to tilt your head back to get a look at your neck, “The collar is gone.” He says, sounding relieved.
“Oh, that’s good.” You say, just as relieved that there’s no longer something forcing you to stay silent. You lightly wrap your hands around his arm, and gently, he tugs you through the opening in the wall.
The wall shuts behind you, and for a moment there’s no light, before torches flare to life. This room is much smaller than the previous room you were in, and there’s nothing in the room at all. Save, of course, for the door that leads to another set of staircases.
Fixer rubs his cheek for a moment, casting his gaze around the room. And then he gently untangles his arm from your grip, and he pokes around the room. “Well, this place seems safe enough.” He says after several minutes of very thorough investigation, “And it’s warm enough in here that we won’t freeze. We should take a break here.”
“You don’t want to keep going?” You ask.
“I don’t think you’re able to keep going.” Fixer corrects. He leans against the wall and slides to the ground with a quiet groan, “Come here, Sarad. You need a break more than I do.”
“...sorry.” You whisper, even as you slide to the floor next to him.
“You don’t have to apologize. Not to me. Not about this.” Fixer considers you for a moment, and then he, very gently, tugs you onto his lap, and guides your head to rest just under his chin. “There, now you don’t have to sleep on the stone.”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me, Sarad. I’m going to be just fine.” He smooths his hand down your back, and slowly, you drift off to sleep with your fingers curled against his shirt.
Fixer keeps his gaze on Sarad’s face until he’s sure that she’s asleep, and then he releases a quiet breath. Carefully, as to not wake her, he checks her over for any serious injuries, and he releases a sigh of relief when he sees that, aside from being too thin and being covered in bruises, she doesn’t have any serious injuries.
Not that it would matter if she did, it’s not as though he has a first aid kit on him. Fixer adjusts her so that he’s a little more comfortable with her on his lap, and then he reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out the only item that wasn’t taken from him, his comm.
No video or audio, but he is able to send a text message to his brothers.
Fixer, reporting in.
Where the hell have you been? We’ve been trying to reach you for days! Scorch replies, almost immediately.
The boys were right, there is something weird happening out here in the desert. Fixer replies, I got caught, I’m in the process of making my escape as we speak, but it’s a little…complicated.
In what way? Boss asks.
Well, I’m not alone, for one. Fixer glances down at Sarad, and adjusts the comm so that there’s no light shining on her face, For another, I have to perform trials to get out of this place.
The person with you, are they a threat? Sev asks.
No. She was being held by the same person who was holding me…and he’s been holding her for a lot longer. She’s been starved-
You were only supposed to find out what was going on in the desert, Fixer. Not get involved. Boss chides.
He was going to kill her. I couldn’t just leave her anymore than you could have.
I suppose that’s fair. What’s the play then? Boss asks.
I have to get out and get her to safety before anything else. But…there’s some kind of living corpse that’s controlling the Sphinx people. I doubt we’re going to be able to handle it alone. Fixer admits grudgingly, only to pause when Sarad shivers and tries to press herself closer to him for warmth. He sighs and wraps his arm securely around her, and only looks back at his comm when he’s sure she’s not going to wake up. I don’t believe the Sphinx people would be a threat if they knew what they were serving, but this creature has them totally ensnared.
Understood. I’ll inform Alpha. Boss sends back. Odds are we’re going to have to wait until the Serrano thing is handled before we try and deal with this situation. Do you need support?
No. But I’ll let you know if that changes.
Understood. Good luck, vod. Boss replies, and then the comm disconnects, and Fixer slips his comm back into his pocket.
For a moment, he allows his head to bump back against the stone behind him, and then he looks down at Sarad. He’s not going to be able to sleep, and since she can’t help with the puzzles anyway-
Very carefully, Fixer adjusts the way his arms are around her, and slowly he gets to his feet. His sarad doesn’t even stir. Now much more sure of his actions, Fixer turns to the stairs and carefully continues his path through the temple.
Hopefully his Sarad won’t be too upset about letting her sleep.
You stir awake after the best sleep you’ve had in a very, very long time. And the first thing you’re aware of is the fact that you’re moving. You blink up at Fixer, who is now nursing a series of bruises on his face, and you shift slightly.
Fixer glances down at you, and a small smile crosses his face, “Good morning,” He stops moving and carefully sets you on your feet, steadying you as you stretch out.
And then you take in your surroundings.
You’re no longer in the white and gold marble of the upper temple, but rather you’re in the deepest parts. The stone under your feet is cool to the touch, and the only light comes from the blue crystals hanging overhead.
You turn a puzzled look up to Fixer, who, at least, has the grace to look a little sheepish. “I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to keep going while you were sleeping.”
You feel a flash of guilt, “You should have woken me-”
“No need. You were tired, and you can’t take part in the trials anyway.” Fixer points out, “I’ve already gone through three more trials while you were asleep.”
You stare at him, stunned, “You did?”
“Yeah. One of them was a combat trial, which has been the hardest so far since I didn’t have a weapon.” Fixer admits, “But I managed.” He lightly takes your hand in his. “Come on, let’s get to this last trial.”
“Um, okay.”
You allow him to lead you down the stairs, and you press closer to him as you start to get more and more nervous. “What’s wrong, sarad?” Fixer asks.
“I dunno…my fur is standing on end, and I feel scared.” You admit.
He stops and lightly presses his hands against your cheeks, “Hey. There’s no reason to be afraid. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. We’re going to get out of this.”
“But, what if-”
“I promise.” Fixer interrupts, “I promise that you’re going to be okay. Just trust me.”
Slowly you nod, “Okay.”
His smile is gentle for a moment as he lightly strokes your cheek, and then he releases you and takes your hand in his, offering what comfort he can as he leads you deeper and deeper into the temple.
At last you come to a massive room, with beautiful pillars carved out of crystal, and blue flames lighting the room. And there, in the center, is a frail looking old woman sitting on a throne.
Like you, she has rounded ears on the top of her head, and a long tail with a tuft of fur at the end. And as the pair of you approach her, she opens her eyes and pins you both with her sightless gaze.
She sighs, and it’s sounds like wind across the dune sea, “How long has it been,” the woman murmurs, her voice like sand, “Since anyone has visited me?”
“Do you know her, sarad?” Fixer asks, his voice soft.
You shake your head slowly, “No. But…she feels familiar. Like a memory…or a dream of a memory.”
The woman pins you in place with a stare, and it’s almost as if she’s looking through you. You flinch and try to duck behind Fixer, but find that you’re unable to move.
And then the woman laughs, “My daughters have tried so hard to forget my name and my face, but even now, one of my youngest knows me.”
“Sarad-?”
“I think…I think she’s the Goddess.”
“Indeed I am,” The woman flashes a fang filled smile, “And you are the first visitors I’ve received in centuries. So tell me, hero, what is your wish? Money? Power? Fame?”
“None of that.” Fixer says, as he tugs you behind him, “All I want is a way to get the both of us to safety.”
The old woman tilts her head, “That’s all?”
“That creature was going to sacrifice her-”
“...us,” You correct softly.
“Right, us, to make himself more powerful. We’re not safe here.” Fixer says, “All I want is to get ourselves to safety.”
The woman is silent for a long moment, and then she sighs, “My daughters have lost their way. If I can save at least one, then all will be worth it.” She gazes at Fixer, “I will grant you your wish, on one condition.”
“What condition?” Fixer demands.
“You protect my daughter.”
He scoffs, “I’m going to do that anyway, with or without your condition.”
And she smiles. “Good.” She closes her eyes, and there’s a swell of magic, “Goodbye, son of man. Live well, daughter of the sands.”
There’s a blinding flash of light, and the sensation of sand swirling around you, and then a sudden weightlessness.
Solid ground appears under your feet, and you stumble, and the only reason you don’t fall is because of the strong arms wrapped tightly around you.
“Fixer?!” A man, identical to Fixer, hurries over. “You…what…how?”
“Boss,” Fixer makes sure that you’re steady, and then you immediately duck behind him, “It appears that we’ve escaped.”
“No kidding!” Another man, this one clad in yellow armor sputters as he hurries over, “I…who’s this?”
You squeak when his gaze lands on you, and you hide behind Fixer, “You’re scaring her, Scorch.” Fixer chides, “She needs medical attention, and so do I probably, and then I’ll tell you everything.”
“No, hold on…does she have lion ears?” Scorch asks as he tries to peek around Fixer to get a good look at you.
“Scorch! Enough!” Boss orders, “Go ahead and get to the hospital, Fixer. Sev should be around here somewhere…kind of glad he’s not here to scare her even more, though.” He mutters.
“Come on, sarad. There’s no need to be afraid, my brothers aren’t going to hurt you.” Fixer says as he turns to look at you and offers you his hand, “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.”
Hesitantly you take his hand.
After all, Fixer has never lied to you before.
Six months later, you’re largely healed, though you’re still much thinner than anyone would prefer, yourself included. You release a rumbling purr as you stretch out in the sun, your tail flicking lazily as you soak up the sun’s rays.
“Sarad,” you crack open an eye to look up at Fixer, who’s watching you with a fond smile on his face, “We’re moving on. We have a new mission.” You yawn widely and then roll over onto your feet.
“Where are we going?” You ask, and then you pout as Fixer pulls a wool cap over your head.
“Serrano.”
“I’m going to turn into a Sphinxcicle.” You whine, “I’m not made for snowy weather.”
“Good thing that we made sure to get you winter weather gear.” Fixer teases, “Come on, Sarad. You know I’ll always take care of you.”
“Yeah, I know.”
He leans in and presses a light kiss against your temple, “Good. Now we need to hurry, or Boss is going to send Sev after us.” Fixer offers you his hand with a small smile, and you grin as you take it.
This isn’t how you expected your life to end up. You expected to die in that desert, unmourned and forgotten. And yet, here you are, surrounded by people who love and worry about you.
And you’ve never been happier.
#star wars#tcw#star wars au#Magic and Knights AU#Fixer x reader#star wars fanfiction#x reader fanfiction#F!reader fanfiction
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here is a a bullet point explainer of my top surgery day (like when i was actually in the hospital) because i feel like if i had something like that i would have been less horrifically life-endingly anxious
day before:
we drove to the city it was in because we were staying with family and wanted to get settled. we left around 10 ish? in the morning and it took us 3 or so hours to get there with all the bathroom stops we made
i received a call from my surgeon's office at 10:30 in the morning giving me the time i needed to show up at the hospital. i was to show up two hours before my surgery time (5:45 am ; 7:45 am), and i was first on the schedule
we showed up at my cousin's house and got settled, i was fasting as required and took my special soap shower at around 9pm. i needed to show up at the hospital at 5:45am but my cousin lives less than 5 minutes away from the hospital so i could afford to go to bed late.
day of:
i woke up at around 2 and went back to bed at around 3:30, woke up at 4:30 and took my second hibiclens shower. i got dressed in clean clothes and we drove to the hospital at 5:30 am
we had never been to the hospital before so we fucked around and found a place to park. we walked in and were confused until we looked around and found check-in. they didn't ask for ID or insurance, just my name. they scanned my advanced directive and medical power of attorney, told me to wait in the surgery waiting area, and told me that someone wld come find me! i was also given a hospital bracelet with my real name on it not my government name which is cool.
we waited for a little bit. there were two other people there. we were all in pajamas. it was great. the waiting area was full of local indigenous art. i wish i would have taken pictures now.
a nurse called my name and verified my date of birth and that i was there for gender affirming double mastectomy. she took me and my mom back to the preop area and took me to a preop room with a bed.
i was weighed and given a urine sample cup for pregnancy testing. this sucked bc i was NPO for like 12 hours and dehydrated as fuck but if you still have a uterus and ovaries you will have to do this.
she gave me a six pack of hibiclens wipes and instructions on how to do the surgery wipe down. neck to toes. one for neck and shoulders, one for chest and torso, one for back, one for arms, one for legs, one for groin and glutes. there r details on the paper. this is recommended but not required depending on ur surgeon. u do it urself. ur nurse does not touch u.
u put on ur gown and then ur given an IV with saline. i was given an oral anti inflammatory and 1000mg tylenol with a teeny bit of water. this is when they blew the valve in my hand. i COVERED my preop nurse with blood and almost threw up. it was great.
she went over some mental health questions and some physical health questions - are u depressed when did u last eat and drink etc. they were concerned because i hadn't eaten solids since the ninth and my surgery was on the twelfth but it was okay.
they asked me who my favorite music artist was because apparently listening to your favorite music while in surgery improves recovery outcomes. i blanked and then told them my chemical romance and the 1975. i hope they enjoyed that whiplash of a mix.
i was taken down and my mom was kicked to the waiting area. the elevator broke and we had to wait. awkward.
i sat in the real preop bay and started crying. got rly nauseous. a preop nurse gave me a puke bag and opened my fluids completely. i think this is where the additional damage to my arm happened but we're not sure. she was really nice but REALLY busy. she needed help lol it was just her for four people :(
she came and verified my name and date of birth. she gave me these sleeves that squeezed my calves to prevent blood clots. she put a warming blanket on me. she gave me consent forms to sign. she moved me to a private corner so my surgeon could draw guidelines on my chest. she put a scopolamine patch behind my ear and then dipped to do more work. love her
my anesthesiologist came by. she asked me my pronouns - the only person to do so (they're charted but still)! she checked my heart and lung sounds and complimented my lung capacity. she asked me what my fears were regarding anesthesia and told me that i was safe with her. she read over my consent and my preop EKG i got in weeks prior. she said that she considers me zero risk and that she is unconcerned which was a big calm down moment. she went to go do pre surgery things.
my surgeon came by. he unhooked my warm blanket and had me stand up so he could draw lines on my chest. he double checked my consent papers and then put me back under my warming blanket and gave me my puke bag back and then went to go do pre surgery things.
about 10 minutes later i was being wheeled into the surgery room. this is around 7:45am. it was actually REALLY close to preop. and it was very cold.
they had me put myself on the table. i was introduced to the rest of the surgery staff. they were literally all women. so cool. my head was going to be sitting on this jello bundt cake looking thing. i laughed and pointed that out. then i got hooked up to an oxygen mask by the anesthesiologist and it smelled like playdough. i commented on that and she laughed and that's the last thing i remember before
i woke up! i was groggy as fuck. first words out of my mouth in recovery were "oh that's exciting, i woke up" and the recovery nurse looked Very Concerned. she was nice to me. she also sprinted when i asked for a puke bag.
i was there for about two hours. one asleep, one awake. they needed to watch me eat and not throw up and i Succeeded and i also needed a bed to return to, which they didn't have.
my surgeon came by to check on me, said i did great! i don't remember much of this.
i went back to the same preop wing at, like, noon-thirty ish. i got to see my mom at one. my postop nurse was a SAINT. he monitored my immediate pain levels and the instant it got above a four he tried to get me pain medication, but was stonewalled by my surgeon.
he got me more food. i had like 12 ounces of apple juice and some cheese and crackers. he let me look at his tattoos and he told me stories while we waited for my mom and for discharge papers.
we got discharge papers, i got dressed mostly by myself. mom gave me my phone back so i could text my friends that i was alive. mom was also handed a 10 pack of gauze with nipple cut outs and we were told to open my swelling reduction binder and change them out once a day.
i was also instructed to empty my JP drains once or twice a day depending on fluid level and given urinalysis cups to empty them into. i never got more than 12mls out of them so this wasn't an issue
you just kind of pop them open and let the oily blood drain out and shake them a little and then squeeze and close them again. yes u can feel it sucking when u close it. it's not painful just weird.
then we went back to my cousin's house! and i devoured a burger and slept kinda shitty
i was up and walking normal same day. i got up slow and did circles around her living room. it was helpful.
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small edits of the epilogue designs of the main 5
(not including Eda, Lilith and Vee, I think they look okay and I honestly dunno what to change with their designs)
btw these are all gonna be edits of the renders from the owl house wiki, because my drawing skills are too ass to draw designs from scratch
Luz:
'ight, I gotta get this out right off the bat – I fucking hate Luz's ugly as fuck pants
everything else in her outfit looks great – I love the snake on the jacket (and how it kinda blends in with the stripes on her shirt), I love her wearing the striped shirt she was wearing in the pilot and I love that she's wearing Amity's old necklace, but the pants are just the worst. this shade of yellow looks like shit, doesn't fit with the rest of the colors (apart from maybe her eyes and part of the necklace, if you wanna stretch it) and those dumb patches just make her legs look busy/cluttered. so, I removed all the patches and made Luz's pants beige, similar to the ones she wore at the end of season 2 (that whole look was honestly really good, sad it was only used for a couple episodes).
oh and I also slightly tweaked her hair because it just looked weird to me. I dunno why, but both her slicked back hairstyle in s3 and the epilogue hairstlyle always looked off to me, and I can't quite put my finger onto why.
Amity:
I made a post on my sideblog a while back where I explained why I thought the hairstyle Amity had in the epilogue didn't really fit with how I interpreted her overall hair change over time. basically that whole post boiled down to:
Amity with a high ponytail/high bun/etc. – represents Amity under her mother's control (since Odalia has almost the same hairstyle)
Amity with her hair down or with a low ponytail/low bun/etc. – Amity is no longer doing what her mom says, she's making her own choices now
so seeing her go back to having a high ponytail in the epilogue just didn't sit right with me. and that's why I decided to give her a braid. since Willow cut her hair short and no longer has two braids, I thought it'd be nice to instead give a braid to Amity. I also wanted to try and make it a two-colored braid, since I didn't really know how else to incorporate her brown hair color to the hairstyle (I didn't want to just go for the simple "make one side of the hair purple and the other brown").
I liked how the Grom crystals were added into this design, I thought it was a pretty nice callback to the episode where the whole Grom dance happened, and so I kept them in my redesign as well – putting them as a part of a headband.
the remaining changes are super minor – I made her pants slightly longer, since them being knee-height looked kinda weird to me, and changed her earrings from these big, black (and kinda ugly lol) triangles to the ones she wore in "Reaching Out", so there would be a bit more yellow in the design to match Amity's eyes.
Willow:
this one doesn't have that much changed to it. I kinda wanted to do something with Willow's hair, but in the end decided against it, since I think her short hair, while looking a bit too simular to Luz's debut hairstyle, is still pretty cute.
I really liked the gold glasses she got in season 2, and so I made her glasses here gold as well. not only because I like them better, but also to make it match with her yellow top.
I see that they tried to do this whole asymmetrical thing with her legs – one leg has a knee pad and the other doesn't, one leg has a sock and the other, again, doesn't – and I'm not against it, but the fact that Willow only has one sock just looks off to me. so I gave her her second sock back, but made the other one yellow, to still kinda keep the asymmetry (and to, again, add more yellow to the design, so it wouldn't just be her top and bracelets).
...also slightly changed the main color of her shorts, because that shade of green looked ugly to me.
Gus:
(this one has even less changes than Willow lol)
my man just straight up lost all his blues
if you go to the owl house wiki and open the page with Gus' designs, you'll see that all of them have some shades of either blue or teal, and occasionally green in them (with the exception of his Halloween costume, that became his season 3 outfit, which is mostly pink-red). and since illusion coven's color is light blue, it makes sense to add the colors of his coven to Gus's outfits. but in the epilogue bro's just covered in yellows and browns, with the only blue being his pants. so that's the only thing I changed – made his vest and glasses blue, to return at least some of his illusion magic's color to him.
the outfit itself looks alright, he looks a lot like a teacher, which is what he is by the time of the epilogue (though it is weird that, despite being 16, he looks more like he's in his mid 20s lmao). I'm not entirely sure why he's suddenly wearing glasses here though, since I don't remember him ever mentioning having eyesight problems or even wearing contacts before (but maybe he did mention it and I just don't remember, I dunno), but eh, whatever. he looks alright with those, so I didn't remove them. but yeah, apart from the lack of blues in his outfit, Gus looks the best out of the main 5.
Hunter:
(had to enlargen his png with a random ai, idk why the one on the wiki is like 5 pixels large, who tf made it so small lmao)
yeah, so, uh, the obvious question here... why does Hunter look like Caleb again?
wasn't his whole thing supposed to be how he's not just another Grimwalker? not just another copy of Caleb? not just Caleb? isn't that's why he decided to cut his hair, and specifically his Caleb-like fringe, to not look like him (and to simultaneously not look like Belos)? he even looks at himself in the mirror at one point in TTT, before he gets possessed by Belos, and says "I like who I am now" or something like that, I don't remember the exact quote.
and then Hunter not only gets his Caleb Hair™ back, after Belos possesses him, but he also gets Caleb's brown eyes after Flapjack brings him back to life, now making Hunter look EXACTLY like Caleb! which, correct me if I'm wrong, isn't this exactly what Belos wanted? a perfect copy of Caleb??
at first I thought that by the time of the epilogue he'd cut his hair again or style it differently, to not look like "Caleb 2: electric boogaloo", and so I just tolerated how he looked in FTF and WAD, thinking "eh, alright, he obviously won't cut his hair again anywhere in these episodes, everyone's busy with making Boiling Isles normal again, it'll probably be somewhere at the very end of the show, when everything's good again". and then, lo and behold – he did not, in fact, cut his hair, and he's still just Caleb™...
cool
ignoring his hair – the design itself looks nice. I especially like the addition of Abomination, Illusion and Plants patches he sewn onto his apron, and, unlike Luz's pants patches, these actually work pretty well with the whole look, plus it's nice to see him add small things that represent his friends to his outfit (only one of Luz's patches represented anyone, which was Amity with that Abomination patch, and then it's just two random pictures that don't really represent anyone)
the main thing I wanted to change was his hair, just like with Amity. judging by this concept art it does seem like they wanted to give Hunter different hair, to not make him look like Caleb 2.0. (dunno why they decided against it though, that was pretty dumb of them).
so I basically just took the first hairstyle here and slapped it onto Hunter. apart from that, the only things I changed were that I made his sneakers pink (since his Grimwalker eyes were pink and I kinda thought I'd bring a bit of that color back here) and added some accessories to his arms – a glove on one hand and bandages on the other. I couldn't give him two gloves, since the right one would cover the Flapjack tattoo, so instead I put some bandages from splinters there (inspired by the same concept art where I traced the hair from).
-----
and that's it.
again, I didn't do anything with the timeskip designs of Eda, Lilith and Vee, because I think they generally look okay and I don't really have any ideas on how I'd change them. as for every other character's new looks – I really don't care that much about them lol. Camila and Boscha look good, King barely changed, so he's pretty good too, and everyone else I barely even remember.
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I went on a journeu
Traveling far and wide...
I was looking for a group drawing website lol
Well specifically one that functions on mobile.
I found one (coincidentally it was the one I used years ago just rebranded and honestly I'm actually really happy bc I missed drawing on that site so much)
So here's what I managed to try;
Paintberri
☆ colour wheel colour range good selection
☆ okay mobile compatability (had to use in browser)
☆ I think it has a group drawing feature? It's likely not in real time based on how it seems set up
White board (one of them?? I think there are a few but this one was mobile friendly)
☆ terrible colour selection lol (unless you pay almost 10 buck then is a kinda okay one)
☆ pretty good mobile accessibility (had to use in web browser)
☆ probably has decent group usage function but I didn't really see a way to join a group so I was drawing on my own board.
Clearly works best for quick doodles and sketches, not the best to use for any thing over just doodling with friends
Hellopaint (previously iscribble)
I think it's also called something like malmal?
☆colour wheel range of colour, good selection
☆ decent mobile accessibility both in app and browser however the app is kinda glitchy
But it's very new and still in the beta testing kinda stage so I'll forgive it
☆ very nice group access, fun the chat and draw with people in real time, had someone answering my questions about the site at like 5 am lol
★ bonus points to all of them bc I can zoom in and out to read the browser options or make sure I can select the right tool
Even hellpaint's app let's you zoom in and out of both the app interface and the drawing board.
Paint erring gave me a little trouble because the pinch zoom gesture registered on the canvas so I constantly had to delete random lines going through it.
#fnaf#fnaf sb#fnaf tftp#fnaf cleithrophobia#tftp cleithrophobia#fnaf gregory#fnaf vanessa#fnaf ness#fnaf ballora#tftp ballora#fnaf luis#luis cabrera#fnaf spring colorway#rainydraws#rabbs recovery
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HELLOOOO! This is Lampkeeper! And welcome to my corner of the universe~!
Lil bio:
Name: Atticus / Lee
Gender: three feral rats with rabies in a trenchcoat
Pronouns: any!! I don't care!!
Lamps: 100000003067 lamps
Sexual orientation: asexual
Romantic orientation: aromantic + homoro-oriented (gay asf)
Likes: Fandoms (preferably small fandoms), food (specifically chicken nuggets), sleeping, lamps, goobers, cats, salmon, winter, dragons (will ramble for hours), b r e a d, sweaters!!!
Dislikes: Loud noises, excited dogs, pollen (is allergic), mosquitos (VERY allergic), strong spices, lots of clothes, summer.
Special interests: Dragons, cats, I Expect You To Die, Portal, The Stanley Parable, Rise of the TMNT, Megamind (somehow), science in general.
Kinned characters: Donnie (ROTTMNT), The Narrator (TSP), Wheatley (Portal 2), Pheonix (IEYTD), Megamind (c'mon, you know this one), William Afton (FNAF- don't ask.), The Spot (Spider-man ATSV)
Physical features: Long-ish dark brown hair, tanish skin despite rarely going outside, brown eyes, 5 feet 6 inches tall, often wears casual clothing but wears a skirt on Sunday, depending on who he's with, he almost never smiles.
Notes: Was never tested for autism or ADHD, but has a strong belief he has both (with research to back him up). Staying with the label neurotypical until the belief is strong enough to self-diagnose. DEFINITELY has anxiety. Might also be dyslexic- constantly misreads words. Is also a therian + otherkin; cat therian + duck therian (WILL meow and WILL purr, don't blame him) + dragon otherkin (WILL roar and WILL hiss). Has an odd belief he's not human.
!! THIS USER IS A SYSTEM !!
Will there be a "meet the artist" drawing soon? Yes, yes there will be. Will I draw myself accurate to my IRL self? Yes. Yes I will. Will I also draw my little alien persona? Yes. In several ways. Will I draw my fursona and his two halves? Absolutely.
For Roleplay under the cut!! vvvv
Blue text is for when Agent Felix talks
Purple text is for when Lampkeeper talks
Classic text is when I/The Narrator am speaking
Red text for Dr. Zor, Orange text for Hivemind, Yellow text for Charlie Caliente, Green text for John Juniper.
These all take place in the IEYTD universe.
Felix lore:
Agent Felix joined Zoraxis's team when he was just a little kid, probably about third grade. If he went to school, lol, which he didn't.
He just wandered around a town all day, doing whatever he could to learn. Zor found him- Zor was about mid-thirties at the time- and just straight up adopted Felix. Zor gave Felix lessons on basic stuff like reading, math, etc., basically just all the elementary school stuff- except it only took 2 years. Zor, obviously, was surprised so he gave Felix some options and Felix chose technology.
Zor gave him everything he could to Felix on the subject, and by age 12, Felix had the technology expertise as a mad scientist. Felix started doodling after Zor adopted him, the doodles being very happy in general. Over time, they got.. concerning.. and Zor didn't know what to do about that.
Eventually, as more people joined Zoraxis, the more Felix was left alone with his little inventions. Occasionally, Zor, Hivemind and Charlie visited him (and were the only ones that celebrated his birthday), rarely Solaris for business. Felix loved Hivemind and Charlie like family.
The death engine was built when Felix was thirteen years old, him being oblivious to what he and Solaris were building. Agent Pheonix had seen him during Operation: Seat of Power, and recognized him as a kid.
When the death engine fired for the first time, Felix was devastated. Maybe a bit traumatized. He hated himself for being so oblivious to what he built. He didn't talk, eat or anything for days, even after he heard that Agent Pheonix had stopped the Death Engine. In fact, Felix felt worse becuase people had died.
Pheonix came back after a day or two of recovery and brought Felix to the agency. The agency convinced Felix to join (hesitantly) and almost gave up after ten minutes until Felix finally said one word: "okay". His mental recovery lasted 2 weeks, his fourteenth birthday two days after. His drawings started returning to a happier-looking state during the time. Felix waited a month and a half for agent training to begin, and when it did, it was too slow to match his learning pace. Regardless, he did what he was told without complaint. ...until they gave him a bomb to diffuse.
They knew perfectly well he couldn't diffuse bombs. They gave him one anyways. He had to run to other agents to find someone who could diffuse bombs. Felix was trying to figure out for days why they gave him a bomb. No clear answer was found.
Felix often has regrets leaving Zoraxis, since he misses everyone and he misses being useful. Usually he just looks at his shirt and he no longer has regrets, but recently it hasn't been working. He has a lot of conflicting emotions. He tries to stop the regrets by telling him stuff like "it feels great to be good" (as you know) and stuff like that. They've been working, but not much. The agency is constantly worried he'll switch sides again, but they don't know what to do about it since they don't want to get near him.
Felix doesn't know it, but Zor, Hivemind and Charlie miss him. Zor has had his eyes on Felix since he left and has been hoping he'd come back. The whole John Juniper thing was half-planned in hopes Felix would be sent on a mission. (I'm listening to This Is What Autumn Feels Like right now and it's throwing ideas like this at me ashgdhwhdhend)
Then Felix gets kidnapped, he runs away, you know the drill if you were reading/involved in it. He came back worse than before, almost back to his old state after the death engine. His memory was a little more messed up and he has major trust issues.
The end :]
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Just What I Needed. (4.5)
(Mike Schmidt X F! Reader)
A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry for abandoning this series for a while lol. This chapter is, as you can see, one of the flashback chapters to the reader's childhood. Thanks for reading! (Warning: mentions of child abuse)
Chapters: 1, 1.5, 2, 2.5, 3, 3.5, 4, 4.5, 5
(Y/N) sat at the small, tattered desk in the corner of her room. Her mother had sent her up there many a times, but it felt different then. Usually, she'd shrug it off. Families fought, and yelled, and that was normal, but her mother's recent outbursts were enough to make anyone a bit hateful. So, she stayed in her room. From the previous night, until the next evening, just waiting and silently cursing her mother.
The crayon in her hand struggled under the pressure of her grip. She was trying her best to color evenly, but the pure anger coursing through her small body made that difficult.
"Hey, can I come in?"
She dropped her crayon quickly, recognizing the voice immediately. It had been a few days since she had seen her father. It wasn't uncommon for him to spend days in his office at work, or in the strange back room, tinkering. She had missed him dearly through his absence, especially with the rising tensions between her and her mother.
Instead of a true verbal answer, she gave a 'mhm,' and continued to stare at her desk. She had a feeling her mother twisted the story a bit to him, and she worried he would be just as angry with her.
Her father, William, cracked open the door and stepped in to the crammed room. He took a brief look around, noting the chipped paint and scattered toys over the floor.
"I heard what happened," he said softly, taking a seat behind her on the unmade bed.
"So? What, are you gonna yell at me too?"
She winced at her own bratty behavior. She knew it wasn't right to lash out at her father, he wasn't the one who had hurt her feelings so badly. Right then, however, he was the only one there for her, the only one she felt safe expressing herself to in that moment.
"You know me better than that," William said plainly, fidgeting with the cap of the beer he snagged on the way to her room.
For a while, neither of them spoke. (Y/N) tried to pick back up on her drawing, but there was a sinking feeling in her chest that wouldn't let her.
"What're y'working on?"
She picked the paper up and looked at it for a moment before answering. "A drawing."
"Can I see it? Come," he patted the space beside him on the bed, "sit here with me."
The chair scuffed the floor and made a long, drawn out screech when she stood up. She joined him and handed the paper over, looking a bit ashamed of what she had done.
William, giving the paper a quick scan, saw only two figures. It was obviously the two of them, and even their house was in the back, but not the rest of the family. Her mother and brothers were missing from the drawing.
"Where's Evan and Michael? And your mom?"
"Why does it matter?" (Y/N) asked, biting the inside of her cheek.
"Isn't it supposed to be a family portrait?" He handed the paper back to her an leaned back a bit, waiting to hear her explanation.
"I didn't feel like drawing them. They aren't nice to me. Why don't they treat me like you do? Why do they all gang up on me when you're gone?"
"What do you mean?"
He knew how things were when he was gone. Of course he knew. She was an easy target for the dysfunctional people in her life to get, there was no doubt about that.
"When you leave for work, Michael is never nice to me. He never wants to play with me, he pushes me away. He treats me like I'm stupid. So does mom, but it hurts more from her, and she pushed me too. Not even Evan is that nice to me, he's always trying to get away from all of us."
She tried to bite back the tears forming at her waterline. She had done enough crying in the last days to last a lifetime.
"Yeah?" William had almost nothing else to say. It didn't surprise him, and he really had nothing else he could do to make her feel better besides just being there.
"Yeah."
"Mom said she grabbed you hard last night. That the bruise?" He asked, pointing his ring finger at the purple mark on her arm.
"I dunno why she did it, she's just always tired of me."
He pressed his bottle of beer on her bruise, hoping the coldness would soothe it a bit. "Hold that on there for a bit, okay?"
She took the bottle from him and held it tight to her arm. It worked a bit. Definitely took some of the sting away.
She leaned her body onto his and felt his arm wrap around her shoulder.
"Dad?" She waited for him to acknowledge her, continuing to speak when he looked down at her. "Can I tell you something? Just promise you won't tell mom?"
"Sure, kid. What is it?"
"Sometimes it feels like you're the only one who loves me. Not mom or Michael or Evan, but just you."
William was tied between 'that's not true,' and 'don't say that,' but he knew that, for the most part, she was right. There wasn't much love in the house, but most genuine of it was between them.
"Well--" he mumbled, slurring over his words while he tried to decide what to say in response. "I do love you."
He quickly stood up and held his hand out to get the bottle back. Leaning down, he gave the girl a peck on her forehead, and turned to leave. He held the doorframe for a second before he left.
"Night, kid. See you tomorrow."
#barleyxnighteye#fanfic#x reader#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#five nights at freddy’s movie#william afton#parent au
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You mentioned you have a Tintin oc, do you have any art of them? If not, can you describe them, like how they look or their name and personality and things? I'm so interested in people's oc's ❤️
Unfortunately i stopped drawing a long time ago so i don't have and can't make arts about neither Tintin or my oc,but at least i keep her alive through my writing on my other fic in my native language.
And yes! I can describe her for you 😘
Appearance: her name is Aisha,an young adult woman between 18 and 20 years old, 1.65 tall (5'5, almost the same height as Tintin). Long black, curly hair, usually braided or loose. She has vitiligo (I simply think people like that are the most beautiful thing 🥹) and eyes with heterochromia due to vitiligo (one is brown and the other is light green). Her clothes are very simple, long cargo pants with several pockets and she either wears a top or a tank top. Not so thin, a robust body, but still feminine.
Personality: well, here we start with the fact that she is a thief,bisexual, have ADHD and is ✨️brazilian✨️ lol. She is self-centered and thinks she is the best, always wanting to attract attention as she has a reputation for never having been caught regardless of the robbery. Debauched and manipulative, but only when necessary.
She's not a bad person, since even though she's self-centered, she has a big heart and is very charismatic, the type who makes friends after 5 minutes of conversation (in the meantime, she would probably already know about your family and be planning a visit lol). She has the energy of a Golden Retriver, but provokes like a black cat.
Background : how she and Tintin met is fun because they are the "enemies to lovers" troup. She ended up in Brussels because her parents abandoned her there and ran away because they were fugitives, a old woman called Anastacia took her to raise with two other acquaintances of hers, Alexander and Darium (they are old friends),basically becoming her adoptive relatives and calling her Aisha.
Tintin and her met when they were between 9 and 12 years old and by his looks she thought it was fun to tease the poor guy and get in the way of whatever he was doing regardless of what. Talking wasn't an option since she didn't take it seriously just to keep disturbing him, but when he started to return it in the same way it became a competition to see who hated each other more lol.
With Tintin soon becoming the hero and traveling the world, Aisha stayed, became a thief and started traveling the world always aiming to make the most eye-catching robbery possible (As she never hurt anyone and would return it if the person seemed to need the money more, her relatives let her go without any problems lol).
Every now and then he joined Tintin's enemies just to continue disturbing and making the situation worse, but there was one that was the trigger for enemies to lovers that i'll keep it short because this post is getting long lol. In short, she had joined a gang that manipulated her and to get revenge she planned everyone's arrest but Tintin was also involved and this gang hated him.
Classic one helping the other, Tintin got into an ambush in which she blamed herself because indirectly she was the one who gave the location without knowing it, they fought and you know that moment when one of the two ends up kissing the other and then they ask for one more? yeah 😏... After arresting the gang, they didn't exactly become a couple, but something close (it's deeper than that but I don't want to take too long 🥺)
Overal is it,there's some other little things but i guess it's enough for now. Thank you for the ask tho! I never thought someone would want to know about my Oc lol.
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