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quinnred · 4 months

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Shrileket: God of the Beautiful Wrath, God of the Spear, Sun-Dropper Shrileket is the embodiment of focus, gust, conspiracy, spears, venom, meteors, and just punishment. He is represented by the Cone-Shell in the South, and by the Heron and Fisher in the North. Warriors may wear an eye-marked sea shell upon their head or as necklace to evoke Shrileket’s accuracy and deliverance and be blessed with a just rage.

The Shell Gods were gods of strength, endurance, and handiwork, and so the birth of the armless and scrawny Shrileket to a consort of Zridtara was not revered. The wobbly weakling only had a shell upon his small head and had no feet but pin points that left it oddly balanced. Afraid to inform their chief, the consort left the newborn to be raised by the Servikah giants within the lower chambers of the Mesa. Despite his seeming lameness, Shrileket was already quite clever and remembered each wrong done to him as he grew in the shadows of his Shell kin, from the neglect of his mother to the bullying of his siblings. From hidden corners of the Mesa, he payed great attention to the habits of each brother and planned every detail of their shaming. He perfected his movements under the guise of dancing with his Servikah and sharpened his shell head with his feet. He would challenge his proudest and tallest brother, Thulla the god of Towers, to a duel. Red with laughter, Thulla agreed to the contest with this comical upstart and met him at the ground of his choosing. The brothers would fight upon the morning ground of Glarelund, carved into an arena so Thulla and Shrileket’s siblings could be audience. After a boast of mockery, Thulla’s first step into the ring followed with immediate foolery as the tall god teetered and tottered upon the shiny ground. Shrileket, however, slid with grace and elegance, dancing around the oaf with pecks and kicks to trip him further. In but a few moments Thulla had fallen, intensely embarrassed by Shrileket who had known that ice grew thin and smooth in the mornings of this region due to his Servikah guardians. Shrileket’s glee was the brightest he felt in a long time, but would sour as Thulla spit cruelties at the victor. Too indignant to let his win soothe him, Shrileket pounced on his brother and castrated him with his sharpened head to the horror of his fellows. The victory of the honourable duel had been ignored by the Shell Gods, instead enraged by the maiming of their proudest son and had banished Shrileket. Painting himself eyes from the gore of Thulla, Shrileket remembered the face of each and every one who cursed him and set off into the world. From there he would receive an invitation from the Feather Gods who admired Shrileket’s strategy and wrath, and especially his shaming of Thulla and gifted him with cloth weaved from god feather so he may join them in The Sun. Shrileket accepted and would earn further gifts, such as Godler servants sculpted into arms for his use and a consort for whom weaved him his cloth. From there he would take his seat at the bottom of The Sun, enthroned upside down at it’s tear ducts were he harvest his sunlight spears to damn those he chooses. Though his cool rage made him a fine arbitrator, his arm servants despised their role and their master and ever whispered bad advice and annoyances into his ears. Their hope was to be destroyed by their owner and freed of their obligations, released into the next life. Unfortunately for them Shrileket found it better to punish their betrayal with further eternal service. His many years of dedication as a divine punisher would end upon the beginning of the Deiomachy, as he would be sent to stop his brother-by-fate god of rage, Tilshek, from entering The Sun. Disgusted by how much Tilshek reminded him of an unrefined self, Shrileket would stop at nothing to kill the half-Jak, dropping from The Sun like tear drop lighting. Their clash would announce war between the Feather and Shell, booming as only gods could for days until they fell upon each other’s impalements.

#slaughtermauch #shrileket #gods #rage #quinn red #art #fantasy

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kisses4kaia · 5 months

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based on this .. hehehehehehehehehe also corio is very joe goldberg in this one. (dedicated to my baby 🤍. @casualhedonists)

coriolanus snow had many a screw loose, and you were not oblivious to that fact.

the thing about power-hungry psychopaths, is they are aware that their greed will never be fulfilled if they reveal their true intentions at the jump. coriolanus snow was dangerously good at playing the game, and he was not used to losing. you had almost let it go over your head, the red-like-blood hued flags, but something inside you had signaled, more like alarmingly blared, that something was very, very wrong with the boy you thought loved you.

and so, on a storming and unbecoming night, you packed up your whole life, leaving behind your people and all that was familiar, and you moved to district 4 and set up residence on the beach. you’d met a man, a gentle, caring, fisherman. no, he could not afford to buy you diamonds, but he could string organic pearls on a chain and that was enough. you ate all the fish your heart could ever desire and you let the sun kiss your once pale skin; which was due to the constant cover of clouds and gloomy mist in the capitol. you were content with your little life, truly, up until you received word your mother was sick and needed her next of kin to help her sort the affairs that would allow her to move peacefully onto the afterlife that awaited her.

the trip was short, but every second of it was spent with a worry for your mother gnawing at your heart, and apprehension to see a certain white-as-snow haired boy. you’d brushed off all thoughts, and figured since the capitol was a big city, the chances of you seeing him were slim—especially considering you’d seen in the newspaper that he was making a name for himself in the political world of panem. he most likely was much to busy to care or even become aware of your returning.

you were wrong. the second you stepped through the gates of panem’s state of the capitol, you felt eyes on you. even after checking over your shoulders and finding nothing but stone architecture on display all over the city, the uneasiness of it all still twisted your gut.

nonetheless, you spent your time in the city of lights and glamour as intended, caring for your mother until she succumbed to a painless, peaceful, death. you saw to the funeral details with a heavy heart, and it was there you felt your heart drop to your toes. the man you’d spent so many years away from, standing in all his haughty glory. his ultramarine, icy, eyes containing nothing but a crazed longing within them. he’d stood across the cemetery in a long, black, fleece, trenchcoat. his hair was no longer a mess of ruddy, gold, curls, but now a styled as a contained, important, slick back—hauntingly, he resembled a ghost, and in a way, he was. a ghost of your past, the scariest one. his eyes glued onto yours as the pastor spoke a few words in honor of your late mother, and you had to swallow your fear for what would follow after the ceremony.

the second the final ‘amen’ left father glenndon’s lips, you turned on your heels, whispering a quiet goodbye to your the soil your mother laid beneath and made a break for it. he was so tall, legs so long and graceful, he caught up with you within a moment. as his cold, ring cluttered, fingers brace the sides of your arms, forcing you to a halt against the tallest stone grave in all of the graveyard, obscuring you from anybody’s view—which only fed your terror—you had to focus on your breathing so as to not let fearful tears slip from your eyes. “get your hands off of me,” your voice was shaky, because you knew just how unpredictable he could be and right now, all that you knew for a fact was that he wasn’t above tearing apart your life right here if you made the single wrong move. he did have the money, influence, and power for it, after all. coriolanus’ voice was sickeningly sweet, gentle, akin to your man back home. “hey, hey, i won’t hurt you, i promise. just wanna talk, that’s it, hm?” his hands move from your shoulders to your face, caressing his thumb against your tear-stained cheek. you shake your head, to deny the request and to get the feeling of his skin off of yours. “no, no. please, coriolanus, let me go home. i have a fiancée, who loves me and-“ your rambling is cut short but a wide-eyed, almost concerned, interjection from him. “he doesn’t love you like i do! i would kill for you, do you understand? he wouldn’t go to any lengths necessary to keep you safe—can’t you see that? i mean, there isn’t a line in the world that i wouldn’t cross for you! i’m not mad, i forgive you for leaving, i know you were just scared, just wish you talked to me, is all. please, dove, come back to the capitol. i haven’t been able to manage since you disappeared. can’t live without you, dove, i won’t,” you wince at the nickname, not having heard it since you left. “i can’t. i have a life in four, snow. i can’t just leave,”

there’s a pained flinch at the use of his last name, having been so used to your sweet, little, pet names you once used just for him. you probably call your fisherman back home those things now, and that thought made his blood boil more than any other. suddenly, almost as if stepping into a role, a character, his eyes deepen, like a bottomless pool of sorrow. “you didn’t seem to think so all those years ago,”

his devastating voice, his despaired, tragically blue, eyes distorted your judgement, and all of a sudden, he wasn’t coriolanus snow anymore. he was corio, your corio.

somehow, in some weird, twisted, round-a-bout way, that’s how you ended up here, writhing on his fingers, his venom-slick sweet nothings spilling into your ears as praises as you come undone on his hands. then on his tongue. and finally, after he’d spent so long giving himself orgasms with only the memory of you spurring him, you’d unraveled on his cock.

and he knew, he had you. he knew, baby came home.

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 !#i would hate it if my finger accidentally slipped and tapped the post button ! 🙈#woopsy daisy ! 🤭#corio angel 🪽★#kaia writes coriolanus #young coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus x you #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #tbosas smut #tbosas #thg smut #tom blyth smut #tom blyth

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bullieving-in-amour · 10 months

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A Feather for a Feather

i literally just woke up, went "ooh sweet idea..." and then got up and wrote nearly 2k in 1h20 without a break, in one go. i was possessed with a muse ! but it felt good to let go again and just write

Fandom : Boku No Hero America / My Hero Academia Rating : General Audiences, SFW Pairing : Takami Keigo & Reader Dynamic : Platonic Tags : Gender Neutral Reader, No Pronouns, Reader has wings, Hawks' POV, Hurt/Comfort, Reverse Comfort, No dialogue, Fluff, Sweet, Emotional focus, First Meeting, Chance meeting

Summary :

Today had been rough. Nothing had happened, that could explain his current feelings. So he flew.

Surprise was an understatement to see someone sitting on the edge of a particularly higher tower than most, someone with feathery wings, like him.

Something about instincts wanting to flock to his kin.

Today had been rough.

There hadn't been anything particularly awful... At least not more than usual. No particularly gruesome fights. No particular loss, only injuries that he couldn't have prevented, as they had happened before he'd arrived. If anything, for once, there hadn't been any additional injured. He should have been glad.

But today had been rough. Nothing had happened. He hadn't had a fight with a friend... or friendly acquaintances, or people he favored. No fight. No arguments, or upsetting words and actions. No out of place attitude.

Nothing had happened, that could explain his current feelings.

But... There he was. Flying as high as the tallest towers in town were, through the cold, refreshing air so high up, the wind plastering against him creating a fuzzy feeling to drown his mind. At least, somewhat.

Today had been rough, and there weren't many explanations for it. He could probably find one, if he were able to sit still and put aside how he felt, if he were able to reason through his entire life and what lead him to today, if he wasn’t able to ignore what he knew did make him feel this way.

But today had been rough, and he didn't want to bother to know why, he didn't want to dwell, didn't want to think. Didn't want to hear what felt wrong. Didn't want to go "home" and see what was wrong.

Hawks wasn't doing good. So he flew, letting the harsher wind of this altitude quell his mind, make the nausea he felt through his entire body slip away. It was like a caress, to him, at this moment. Something he took often craved. Something he tried to find, too often, but never right, rarely genuine, or gentleness lacking. The wind wasn't able to hug him, envelop him into an embrace, but it caressed his entire being gentler than he could ever imagine, better than he'd been able to find.

There wasn't much, up there. Other birds, sometimes, but people ? Only maybe people able to fly, or jump and follow through the air, but even that was a rarity. Sometimes when he flew, there would be people on rooftops, but not this high.

Surprise was an understatement, especially with how he felt, to see someone sitting on the edge of a particularly higher tower than most, although not the tallest, looking over the city, as far as Hawks could tell.

Someone with feathery wings, like him. Someone with wings proportional to their body, unlike him, following the logic of what wings would need to be like to be strong enough for the body they would be attached to, unlike his. Ones that were so much bigger than his, feathers so differently shaped as theirs were obviously entirely wings, and not individual, controlled feathers shaped as such. Wings so long, they trailed behind them, in resting position behind their back, the ends of them curling before laying a distance on the floor of the roof they were sitting on the edge of, legs dangling in the void of the night.

Hawk's heart hammered. He didn't meet people with wings often enough. He always loved it. Something about instincts wanting to flock to his kin, maybe.

You didn't seem to react much as a red feather floated gracefully in front of you - but you gently took it from the air, before it could get away, tracing the edges of it with a soft touch.

As Hawks settled next to you, not with a word for once, he saw you better. You looked melancholic, he thought. Not exactly sad or depressed, or like remembering something, or any other kinds of feelings... The hero wasn't sure if melancholic was the right word, but it was the best he could think of. Regardless of your height, sitting down next to him... Your wings shadowed above him, even at rest, making him feel something... That he definitely couldn't think of a word to describe. Hawks didn't hate it, that was for sure. It made him feel some sort of calm, wonder. Maybe that was it. Maybe it didn't need to be much more than that. Maybe it didn't need to be anything but simple wonder.

You hadn't said anything, so far, nor had you let you go of the feather, still looking at the sight in front of you in calm silence. Hawks didn't feel like breaking that, either, so he joined you. Looking at what was in front of him. Slouching more than you slightly were, his day still heavy on his shoulders, dejected but wanting to move past it. Maybe this wasn't too bad. Right here, right now. He could still feel the wind. Still caressing him. And your existence, the presence of you right next to him... It felt nice, too. It helped. He hadn't wanted to admit he'd wanted company, as he flew to nowhere, as he flew until he saw you and didn't want to pass up his chance, his heart screaming and weeping for something, anything, that would let him feel like more than... Hawks closed his eyes as a harsher wind blew hair into his face, feathers ruffling. He heard yours, too, the sound of it calming him even more, more than he ever thought it could have. Like this was something he missed, something he'd been yearning to hear again, like something important he'd lost.

Hawks heard you sigh, soft, faint, from content he assumed, the wind feeling nice to you as well.

A horribly selfish part of him, one he always ignored when meeting people, anyone, strangers and ones he knew alike, begged him to reach out. Trail the tip of his fingers against skin, bury them into hair if there were any, place a palm on waist, back and sides.

Search through your feathers to put them all back into place, pick out the loose ones he knew felt itchy. Get potential stuff from the world around you stuck to the part you couldn't reach, that wouldn't stop sticking to your feathers even by flapping your wings.

So Hawks kept on looking over the view, basking into the presence you didn't refuse him. Maybe you appreciated his, too. He had a feeling you'd have left, by now, if you hadn’t. Maybe you felt that instinct to be close to what your basic needs assigned as your kin, too, even if you were fundamentally different.

The feeling of a fingertip tracing the edges of his feather, gently held into your hands, hadn't stopped, either. Perhaps it was what made his heart soar. Made the tears he lied to be from the wind, even through his protective glasses, gather in his eyes. Not much, not overflowing, not enough to trail onto his cheeks, or even water a single eyelash. Only feeling the wetness against his eyes, behind his lower eyelids, slightly cold.

His body had relaxed.

Hawks wasn't sure when, or how much time had passed. Not enough for the night to be any different. Not enough for the stars to stop being visible, even as faint as they were from the large city's illumination and sky pollution from it. Not enough for the moon to have jumped too far away to easily find. Not enough for him to receive an inevitable call for work, or for...

The sound of feathers made him blink away the moistness in his eyes, an involuntary little sigh leaving his lips. But the noise kept going, indicating more than you flexing your muscle for comfort. The sound of rustling, and the vague movement of the limb on his side in the corner of his vision told him you were opening this wing, only this wing. The air current created by it, as faint as it was, against his back and own wings, indicating you were...

Curling it around him, the far end of it closing against his side, pushing enough to prompt him to scoot closer, enough that he could lean against your side easily if either of you decided to. Your wing had moved position again slightly, enveloping him but not cutting off his vision, like a blanket big enough to cover him. Keigo hadn't been on the receiving end like that for... he couldn't remember. Especially not with wings so much bigger than he was, regardless of your size. To experience what it was like, to be the one getting the affection, protection, he'd offered countless times before... He felt how precious of a feeling it was. He felt how easy it was to feel vulnerable, to let it shield him from everything, except the wind, still caressing the both of you but now not as cold, not as sharp, just a caress.

One tear, small and nearly invisible, painted the tiniest line down his cheek, unnoticeable, nearly even for Keigo. Nothing else happened, the limit of what his emotions needed. Just that, small and nearly insignificant, but enough to stop everything from sounding muffled, feeling muffled, looking muffled. Insignificant but oh so enough. The ruffling of your wings in the wind sounded gorgeous. Your faint breathing, barely audible, lowering his eyelid from how it eased him. The sight of the view from all the way up, finally more than a mudded rejected reminder of his life. Keigo, and you, taking in the sight of the moon so slowly moving ever so slightly with the passing of time. Not enough for the night to leave yet anytime soon, but so much longer than he could ever ask for for a break.

Inevitably, a ringtone, sharp, loud, breaking his heart, but enough for the feeling of your wing to stop shielding him. Not enough for the weight on him to come back as before, to come back tenfold, not enough to change any of what he'd felt since he sat next to you.

Flying away in the direction of the address he was given when he answered the phone as he took off, now ended and put away back into his jacket, he felt how your hands gently clasped his feather between them, hold soft, gentle, confident. Unrelenting on keeping hold, claiming it as yours. Whatever had made you sit on the edge of that roof, silent and looking over what faced you, he knew you'd eventually be fine. However it would go, you'd get there. Your hold on his feather was confident, firm, like a promise to hold onto yourself as well, to keep going. You had this. Keigo was confident of this.

How blessed he felt, for the one he had claimed back, when you had wordlessly handed it to him time before his call, one feather the same size as his, precious into his hand, between his gloved fingers. Protected into his coat, hidden away, something to never lose, something he'd make sure would never be taken away once he could, back "home"... once he could, back to his home. His apartment. It was home and what he could make of it. Your feather, now Keigo's new treasure, would be the first addition to a new step towards making this his.

So Hawks went back to work. Today had been rough, and it would be rough again, now or another time. It would continue to be rough.

Regardless of if he ever met you again, or if this was a single memory of a lifetime,

Keigo, Hawks, had this.

hope you liked it ! leave a comment and reblog !

#my writing #bnha x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #takami keigo x reader #fluff #hurt/comfort #reverse comfort #platonic #gender neutral reader

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brightestlulu · 9 months

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I've been meaning to post this for awhile!! it's my homestuck keroro gunsou au!! I don't really have too many ideas based on their world (they'd be on alternia obviously) but I do have the main platoons designs! I'll be working on the rest of the cast later on, if you have any suggestions, comments, criticism, or just want to talk about it, PLEASE feel free!!! I would love to hear anyone's thoughts!

Click read more if you want to hear a little more about my thoughts while creating them and reasons for some of their design elements!

Keroro- For keroro, his horns are based on his shogun outfits and gundam models! His outfit is a military one (and the jacket is supposed to be a gundam jacket but it looks more like a letterman because of the colouring, ehe). All their signs are just their symbols because I thought changing it wouldn't really make too much sense. His chumhandle is from a friend because I couldn't think of anything past lazy LOL

Giroro- Giroro's horns are based on the ends of the guns he has, though it sorta makes him look like a classic alien. He prefers to wear red rather than indigo, though he does have indigo accents. He also prefers to wear his whole military uniform even though it isn't exactly comfortable, it's just how he likes to be seen.

Kururu- Kururu was super fun to design for me, he's my favourite character in the show. His horns are obviously swirls like his symbol, and his hair is just badly bleached, making it yellow and appear more curly than it is. He prefers to wear more relaxed clothing and the lab coat is mostly just for looks. I also made him prince of mind (because he is a bitch, and also because I think he likes messing with peoples minds rather than having knowledge (light)). He likes to pretend he's a lord of mind though and made his own god tier outfit of it in place of his prince one.

Dororo- Dororo's horns are based on his symbol (again). He is a violet blood but he is a rebel of the empire, not agreeing with how it treats lowbloods and just trolls in general. He hides his fins behind his hair and hat flaps (intentionally or not). He doesn't really like wearing violet besides the few accents and his symbol is coloured yellow instead of violet. It's not really known if he hides his face because of his status, because he get's sick a lot, or just because it's what ninjas do.

Tamama- Tamama's horns are based on his symbol as well, but split in half. I originally was going to make tamama a bronze blood because he's the lowest rank, but decided the caste known for their bouts of rage would fit better. He doesn't really participate in the clown religion besides the facepaint. He wears lime mostly because of keroro and he is also the only one in the platoon to have a tail! He is also the same exact classpect as gamzee, which is funny because my gamzee kinnie friend also kins tamama.

All their last names are just their rank because they don't have last names otherwise, and I just thought it would fit. also, from tallest to shortest it goes Dororo, Giroro, Kururu, Keroro, and Tamama.

Again, if you read this and have questions, comments, critism, or just want to talk about it, please comment or reblog or message me or something!! I would love to hear people's thoughts and I haven't found very many homestuck fans who are also sgt frog fans.

#homestuck #sgt frog #keroro gunso #keroro gunsou #keroro #sgt keroro #giroro #kururu #tamama #dororo #ケロロ軍曹 #sergeant keroro #fantroll #fantrolls #homestuck au #kululu #art

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taksstuff · 11 months

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#invader zim #iz #zim #zim invader zim #gir #dib membrane #gaz #gazlene #gazlene membrane #gir invader zim #irken x child get tf out #tak #tak iz #tak invader zim #lies!!! the filthy earth boy lies!

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k4iloveanimation · 10 days

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How do we feel about the pink eyes? I was originally going to go with gold to match her environment and the rest of her color pallet from the front; though the eyes should be the main point of focus for a character to draw the eyes to the face. On the other hand, she’s a side character and I don’t want her to distract from other characters like Majele or Hormi visually and the eyes are naturally drawn to warmer colors. + additional fun fact: Majele Scorpio was inspired by Tallest Red and Wuyi here was inspired by my oc with him, a four foot plus sized Irken named Kin!

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samalamm · 1 year

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HIIIII I LOVED YOUR SEAMOON HCS SO MUCH!!!!!!! and I noticed you liked polyancients too so I was wondering if you can give me some polyancients hcs of all the ancients but mainly centered around golden cheese!! it's alright if you wanna do all of them btw I'm down for anything HAHAHAHAHAHHA anyways thank youuuu!!

AWWWH THIS IS THE NICEST ASK IVE GOTTEN IN TUMBLR THUS FAR 😭💕 TYSM IM GLAD YOU LIKED THEM

gonna do all five of the ancients cause imjust that nice 💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻

pure vanilla

Half-Cakehound (has the ears and tail)

Incredibly affectionate. CUDDLES FOR DAYSSS

Has never snapped once in his life but has a lot of bottled up rage so don't press your luck too far

The shortest of the ancients, standing at 5'3"

Coincidentally the oldest of the ancients

Pretty much rules over everything (think of it like american systems, the ancients decide something and he has the final say-so over it and how far these laws go)

Beats his head with his fists when he's frustrated and kicks his feet (autism)

Gets distracted very easily (adhd)

Can't see without his staff, so he just walks around with it

Also declares he doesn't need it and runs into something two seconds later

Amazing patience and willpower

Actually can throw a pretty killer punch

That shit HURTS.

Kind enough to accept someone into his life, but kind enough to let them hurt others and get away with it.

Scarily high alcohol tolerance and beat Hollyberry in a drinking contest (never won again)

dark cacao

Very cold-hearted and rather cruel, but held in high regard for his wiseness.

Second tallest of the ancients but is also the youngest (L)

Has a huge staring problem that he plays off as observing.

Anger issues. BIG TIME.

Actually half dragon but nobody knows that yet

Constantly tired because he has to deal with the shitheads that are the ancients and their kin

Not very affectionate

Has been on the receiving end of a PV punch a few times when he was younger and would never do it again

Awful at sports

Often startled by pranks

Very low alcohol tolerance (double L)

hollyberry

Airheaded and dense

Tallest of the ancients and second youngest

Has escaped her guards several times and also helped the other ancients escape their guards

Makes a game out of getting on PVs nerves but has never gotten him to snap

Will never live him beating her in a drinking contest down

Aroace and pan

Also very affectionate but usually breaks a few bones of her friends and family giving them hugs

Usually a very lovey-dovey drunk (much to the displeasure of her friends)

white lily

Reclusive, yet kind

Second oldest ancient and a few inches taller than PV

Spends most of her time with Hollyberry and PV

Affectionate when she wants to be affectionate, but is very willing to accept affection

A very good cuddler

Often asleep in her room

Has a very soft singing voice that often puts her friends to sleep

Has a few strands of black and red hair from her time as D.E., as well as some mild vitiligo

Can change her form at will (D.E. is more of an alternate personality now, though she still exists)

Would absolutely worship the ground her friends walk on if she could

Mother of Herb and Clover with PV as the biological father

golden cheese

Cold and sarcastic, yet also down to earth and resourceful

Taller than PV, yet shorter than White Lily at the very middle in terms of age

Wears goggles when she flies to protect her eyes

Not super affectionate, but likes to be hugged and cuddled

Spoiled as fuck

Wears golden braces around her wrists and neck similar to the ones of African culture

Mother of Dark Choco, Roguefort, Earl Gray and Eclair, but favors Eclair over her other children

Complains about being bored every two seconds

Likes to give herself birdbaths in the bathtub

Can sleep almost anywhere

Queen of pranks

Can be very sweet if she wants to be, which isn't very often

poly ancients

They all cuddle Dark Cacao and Holly when they sleep, fight me about it

Watch movies together and talk the whole time (PV sometimes tells them to hush so he can hear what's going on in the movie)

Golden Cheese proceeds to talk twice as loud to annoy him (it works)

White Lily refuses to wake anyone but PV up with kisses, but will give affection to her other partners as an apology

PV is (probably) the favorite of the poly and he knows this, but doesn't brag

They all make breakfast together in the morning

If one of them is sick, the others will bring food and medicine to them while they're in quarantine

PV almost never gets sick, so sometimes he'll sit with the sick ancient and read or talk to them

If PV gets sick, the whole poly panics, because if he gets sick, the illness can be bad for him since he's not particularly good with his immune system

Give each other kisses RELIGIOUSLY

PV sometimes likes to give them kisses right after putting on lipstick so he can hear them fuss about makeup on their face (White Lily and Holly don't mind actually)

They all help PV with autism meltdowns via pressure therapy and kisses

When PV is angry, the other ancients just dip before he snaps (he never does)

Have very different music genera preferences so they always fight over the radio

Will bite each others head off if another eats all their snacks

Like to try each others region foods

Visit each other all the time

sorry i took so long to answer schools been kicking my ass but hi hello!! polyancients!!!

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fictionkinfessions · 1 year

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To the Princess' recent question, yes! The one I recall most clearly was as Tallest Red of the Irken Armada. There was some smeets' show I watched, not sure what it was a bout, but all of the characters were some flavour of spiky worm looking thing. I in particular kinned one with alternating maroon and black stripes. Could probably draw them actually.

#fictionkinfessions #fictionkin #kinmemception #tallestredkin #invaderzimkin #mod party cat

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fandoms-onlys-and-memes · 2 years

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Sun Wukong LMK!Lion King

(I was juggling some ideas about Tang and Pigsy but with my brain attacking me about Sun Wukong...it just decided it’s fate for me. So here I am making a Sun Wukong Info about him in this series! I am not a person that can draw but i have the power of ADHD and descriptive details on my side! So feel free to draw any fanart about this if you want. just use #lmk!lionking so i can see your masterpieces that I know I can’t make!)

General: Compared to Macaque, Sun Wukong was born from the one of the tallest trees of YingYang Rock. His family were the explorers that take adventuring seriously, if you are able to surpress your laughter from every joke they have from the book. It was already obvious that he is a unique one since his birth mother always had a strange craving for peaches and since he has this love for peaches as well, people called him Sunny Peach or perky peach for his sunny personality along with his charms to make many people woo over him.

Appearance:

Like Macaque, Wukong’s fur was how it is canonically in the younger years of his life. That was till the rule of Lady Bone Demon. The present time fur would be the same orange fur but with small parts of his furs in a more red-orange star shapes with a few hidden scars. NOT TELLING WHERE OR HOW HE GOT IT BECAUSE SPOILERS.

Spouse:

At first, Wukong didn’t see anyone as a mae whatsoever. He just wanted to hang out with Macaque most of the time. But after the teasing from PIF and other outside viewers along with the time spent away from each other, Wukong was more than happy than to become Macaque’s lover and suprisingly to him(but not to others) his husband.

Kin:

It is MK, but later on MK gets a baby sibling that he DEFINITLY DID NOT give hints about wanting to have. The baby sibling is Xingguang(which means Starlight from what I researched) aka Lex. She is MK’s partner in crime when i comes to helping him get away with something since she knows he will do the same for her.

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skxrbrand · 5 months

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Prev / Ulthuan, Palace of the Arch-Tempter

The Khorne Horde had been sighted off of the coasts. Just over a week away, a legion of Skull Ships carving a path to the Arch-Tempter's abode. Furies brought word on the wing; Ka'Bandha and his forces hadn't fully recovered their strength since the previous battle. Reckless, but nothing the Huntsmaster couldn't afford.

To their credit, the Slaaneshi of N'kari's palace knew when it was time to laze about and indulge themselves and when it time for actions. Kha'xanzyr was not so foolish to think the Palace had no defenses at all, even if his fiery descent had destroyed some of them. After Khorne, the Slaaneshi were most skilled in battle, trading heavy armor but speed, grace, and sheer ruthlessness.

But even so, the Bloodthirster doubted it would be enough to carry them through. He would die here, alongside all of these perfumed degenerates, and then he would have to answer to the Blood God himself. Doubtless, Kharneth would recognize his spoor just as he did Skarbrand's. Just as he probably had Khazaan. And then there would be dishonor, suffering from which he could not escape, perhaps even total oblivion. These few days would be his last days.

Kha'xanzyr's terror turned into rage, at himself, at the daemons around them, at the doom sailing their way. But the Slaaneshi were not fooled as he kin might've been. They could taste the sweet sorrow beneath the spiced anger of the Bloodthirster. And so the Architect isolated himself so that he might feel in peace, but loneliness was only a catalyst for rumination.

"Damnation. Is that my final fate, Father?" Kha'xanzyr, atop the tallest of the towers, spoke out with bitterness, his voice thick with emotion. He spoke to the black clouds above the ocean save a single, brilliant spot of red following the progress of the Skull Fleet. The gaze of Khorne. " To rot in your dungeons? To be unmade by your hand? After all I have given? All I have lost? This is the prize for my service?!"

He was answered with silence. Thunder roiled overhead and the Architect could've sworn he heard the deep timbres of his father's voice bound within the rumbling sound. He pinned his ears, turning on his heel.

"...No. These are not my stars."

The Bloodthirster descended the towers. He descended into the belly of the Palace, hobbling painfully along. Ka'Bandha would arrive with the very eye of Khorne upon him and he would fight all the harder for it. But he would not be the only one with a God watching over him.

#KHA'XANZYR (THE ARCHITECT);#plot point

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dudewayspecialfarewell · 7 months

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If I die young, write my mother Tell her that I love her but my soul's gone home And take my vessel to Anderson County Drive real slow and take the long way home Tell my kin to pick up a shovel Wrestle that sugar sand and bury my bones Won't you bury my bones beneath these pines When it comes time for you to bury my bones And don't throw me no funeral, sister don't cry Saw that fiddle, brother, pass that shine Deep down in the holler, pick the tallest pine Dig it real deep where the roots touch mine Cross the Red River where it opens wide The heroine sails to the Choctaw side Follow my trail to a silver stone And gather my body when you bury my bones Won't you bury my bones Yeah, if I die young, write my mother Tell her that I love her but my soul's gone home And take me back to Anderson County Drive real slow and take the long way home And tell my kin to pick up a shovel Wrestle that sugar sand and bury my bones Bury my bones beneath these pines When it comes time Yeah, if I die young Yeah, if I die young Yeah, if I die young

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norseman1858 · 10 months

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Bury my bones..

By Whiskey Myers

If I die young, write my mother

Tell her that I love her but my soul's gone home

And take my vessel to Anderson County

Drive real slow and take the long way home

Tell my kin to pick up a shovel

Wrestle that sugar sand and bury my bones

Won't you bury my bones beneath these pines

When it comes time for you to bury my bones

And don't throw me no funeral, sister don't cry

Saw that fiddle, brother, pass that shine

Deep down in the holler, pick the tallest pine

Dig it real deep where the roots touch mine

Cross the Red River where it opens wide

The heroine sails to the Choctaw side

Follow my trail to a silver stone

And gather my body when you bury my bones

Won't you bury my bones

Yeah, if I die young, write my mother

Tell her that I love her but my soul's gone home

And take me back to Anderson County

Drive real slow and take the long way home

And tell my kin to pick up a shovel

Wrestle that sugar sand and bury my bones

Bury my bones beneath these pines

When it comes time

Yeah, if I die young

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Dijon Mcfarlane / John Craig Jeffers

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staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty · 1 year

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Explanation of species in my Slender AU

Valdernak:

Tall and thin, they usually have pale white skin and skin stretching over their skull in lull of a face.

Eye colours can be red, yellow, purple, or pink, with red being the most common.

Height depends heavily on gravitational pull of planet with earth levels of gravity resulting in individuals who at their tallest around 17ft, and at the lowest 11ft in height.

Tendrils varying from white to black, and are muscular and flexible appendages growing from the back from beneath the trapieze muscle

Tendrils are covered in very fine hairs which allow for a whisker like function, and give tendrils a soft velvety feel. Tendrils also double as an erogenous zone due to said hairs

Blood is a deep black colouration, resulting in their pale undertones in the skin

Their teeth which fall out and replaced periodically, are thin and sharp much like a needle. Backwards facing teeth also allow for prey to more easily slide down their throats

Radiation is present in them and is both a hunting method, and a self defense measure

Said radiation results in something known as the sickness that in humans replicates both a flu virus and the effects of radiation poisoning

The sickness is both used to liquefy the bones and organs of prey for easy digestion, and is used in Proxifcation methods where it is more regulated.

Chromosomes are a bit odd in the way they have XXXY which instead of causing dysfunctional creatures, results in a pseudo intersex species that can switch between male and female at will.

This has resulted in the species having little to no concept of gender roles and a habit of creating same sex couples

Species is known for its habit of procreating with other species which has been identified as way of introducing new genetics into the offspring which are almost always Valdernak except in the case of Void-kin

Interdimensional by nature, they are social creatures who often stay in family pods of up to twenty individuals

When searching to create new families, they will often go to other dimensions or planets in search of either a mate or a place to settle

Due to the fact that an eon is a year of aging to them, Valdernak have a habit of outliving entire solar systems

Diet consists of meat and the souls of sapient species

Able to control the elements

Valdernak split off into two main subspecies, the Valderna, and the Valdern who cannot control the elements:

Valderna:

Tall and thin like the Valdernak, they are different in the way they often possess more human skintones such as pale pinks and light browns

Eye colour can be sickly yellows, dark reds, bright greens, and blues

Face is still made up of stretched skin, they are different in the way they have darker markings that can resmemble a happy face to a singular eye, to even resembling abstract symbols.

It should be noted that no two Valderna have the exact same markings. Even twins have just slightly different markings.

Heights are also very much dependent on gravity with similar height ratios as Valdernak

Tendrils are scaly in nature and highly resemble eyeless snakes

Located on the back, coming up from beneath the trapieze muscle, these tendrils have mouths filled with sharp little teeth that are hollowed on the inside to allow for venom to flow through

Teeth in main mouth are also hollowed out, and their venom is known to be quite potent and acidic. In humans, a single bite is capable of killing fifteen grown men within thirty seconds. Seeing how Valderna have a habit of leaving multiple bites, humans generally die and begin to liquefy almost immediately.

Valderna are known to have dark colourations on the hands and feet, which are black at the hands and feet, and lighten as they travel up the arms and legs resutling in a gradient.

This will not be found on Albinos and those Melanism

Live just as long as Valdernak, have similar habits as result

Diet consists of meat and sinful souls. No one knows why, not even the Valderna.

VALDERN:

Different from the previous two as they are often cursed prey species of the Valderna and Valdernak

Eye colour is often red, though not unusual to find one with blue or green eyes.

Used to be that if a Valdernak fell in love with a member of a prey species that they would turn them into Valdern

Now it is a curse used upon prey species by their own kind.

Heights are much shorter with the tallest being ten feet and the shortest five

Tend to choose their prey based on emotions and concepts

Often have the skin color they had before their transformation and are just as faceless, though they have wounds over their skin which are badly healed leaving thick inflamed scabs behind

Age the same as Valdernak much to their chargin if not mated to a Valdern or Valdernak

Often have habits left over from their lives before

#long post #original species #enjoy my rambles #i had fun with this one #Slender AU

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tiramisuprince · 2 years

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Hannigram Derp #1

The lands the Old Gods built were luscious, green, and filled with life. Rich in grain, fruit, and fish. Sea salt air of a nearby coast recalls the sea-witch's song readying to drag foolish men deep into cold, crystalline waters. The stories these lands told and were born from. Stories that are passed on generation after generation.

Beauty didn't stop at the vast landscape.

Not when it rose to the tallest tree with its trunk of strength, living far beyond any mortal man. To the smallest animal rustling, gathering, and harvesting farmer's winnings for their own survival. Even to the mighty birds of prey with their glorious wings circling high above ready and waiting for any sudden movement despite their common songbird brethren, who rather perform than join nature's war.

War.

A village so full of life; happy, complacent, filled with love, family, and the strength of men and women built for battle. A brash, harden time that bore harder, stubborn people. Long ago their ancestors were warmongers, but settled on the eastern coast and found peace in its rustling meadows. Making companions, and loyal friends of the animals that lived there.

They fought for territories, for their gods, for promised debt and the protection of their families, but not for war. They would not start a war when peace was found. They will, however, end it if one foolishly chose a fight with these warriorkin.

War.

It brought fire.

Horrifying starlight fell from the dark heavens above spreading their red angry glow as wildfire amongst the massacre. Black smoke thickened; choking every soul like the world serpent coiling around Midgard. Hard, thudding sounds of armored horses galloping through every home as their masters' gleaming swords brought down the wrath of their God.

Screams.

He would not ever forget the screams.

Pain and blood reign over him. Throbbing in his left eye, drowning him in his hoarse roars. Adrenaline courses through his veins as the rumbling thunder roars behind ominous clouds reminding him no matter the outcome Thor shall fight in their stead. Lightning brightens pitch-black lands before striking in righteous azure fury. Decimating land, tree, and steel-cladded men.

Armored horses scrambled, reeling back on hind legs with frightful neighs and bucking their masters during each electrical strike while the Vikings' own pushed through. Pushed and galloped as they are Sleipnir's children, they knew no fear. If his people were destined to die tonight then Valhalla awaits them with open arms. The gods shine down on them with pride. The village has proven its worth a thousand-fold.

His proud war cries joined a rising, powerful chorus.

Rallying one another as his people, his brave people, fought sword for sword, axe to axe, shield to shield. Their own arrows arc into the sky, blessed by the Allfather as each one struck. They fought tooth and nail until chains and collars replaced their dignity with forced servitude.

He remembers vividly the crackling red-orange fire that consumes his village as he's pulled away in a cage. A low song breaks the somber cold. It began with him bellowing loss, hope, and pride as his fellow kin joined one by one until their story is heard throughout the long, unknowing journey. They praise their gods, their dead, and in a rising, heart-wrenching, verse he made a vow.

The Viking did not feel hatred towards the soldiers who brought ruin to their lovely sea home. Soldiers were men with orders. His people understood the shame coming from a lack of discipline, lack of respect for command. No, his rage is for their leader. The one who cost his village their lives and freedom in trade for greed, envy, and lust.

His fight was with them.

Thunder snarled as lighting brightens the night once more, seemingly following the battalion through the night. Thor heard his prayers, heard their songs, and blessed them with the right of revenge. He will have the thunder god's aid in battle.

This sworn promise will keep him alive.

The moment they arrived in what he believes is the steel kingdom the Vikings were separated. Each kin looked over by a tall, portly man in fine robes, wrapped in golden jewelry and rings on every finger. Words he didn't understand are mustered as despite their enslavement they were cleaned, dressed, and measured. It was amusing as much as it was humiliating, but the patch filled with healing herbs against his eye told him to be patient and wait.

They were all collared in leather, hands tied behind their back as a leash is entwined between each collar linking them as a horseman rode in front and in back. Soldiers to the sides prodding them with the back of spears if the men were too slow. His golden eye took in the sights of people and their land. Farmer's tan on working class, rags and sometimes shoeless.

The middle-class fair better with finer clothes that were more of their own handwork than bought, robes ran across torsos as sashes were around the waist for men.

High-class civilians were the easiest to spot, all garnished like small-shrine Deities. Glittering jewelry, some kind to the other classes while others rather spit on them for even glancing in their way. Music is played in the massive market square as it bustles with all walks of life. A breeding ground for trade is clear as day. Soldiers locked in formation against tall, pale pillars and against beautiful architecture the Vikings had never seen.

He briefly wonders if these people were blessed by the gods as his people were.

Eyes wandered onto the line of leashed men, his fellow warriors fearlessly looked back while he carried on observing. They are guided up stairs leading to a grand stage and displayed like products amongst a gaining large crowd as a speaker spoke the alien language again. His golden eye looked to the remainder of his people, whispering low of his gratitude and that they will all meet again and dine in Valhalla.

That was the last he's seen of them.

Since then it has been three years.

Three long years.

The first year was spent as a house servant until a harsh owner made the mistake of lashing only to get one in return. This led to the next two years. He was a rising star in the gladiatorial ring. He's fought Persians, Saxons, Greeks, and Spartans amongst the plethora of men that died against him. The language he found was easier on his tongue, understood more than he showed as he realized most talked freely to a mute.

It was during a journey into another neighboring coliseum located in a large city across the river that he's realizing his ownership is bound to change. However, the beautiful sight of Baldr reincarnated strikes the very core of him. A man in the finest silver-white armor rides past on a blue-bannered, armored horse. Their eyes met; the purest of blue-greens reminded him of the ocean waves back home and the dark curls swept and framed his boyish face like fisherman hooks.

Who was this man?

The unknown soldier paused his caravan to a halt causing the Viking to wince in his tight chains as he's jostled. He could see the pure white horse patiently baying. A few words he heard in a conversation grew heated. Or at least his master's rage rising while the brunet is coolly collected. One word is "eques" meaning his current master is dealing with a knighted horseman. This wasn't normal calvary, the beautiful brunet had power.

Political power.

The Viking barely heard the others, all he could focus on is the knight shoving a small sack of coins into a hand after lowering off his horse. A heartbeat ringing in his ears as the knight walks forward and unlocks the door, even going as far as unchaining him. What this to be his new master?

Golden eye met the portly, angered man who scoffed, snarled, and waved him off as if to say "yes, he's your new master now." The silver-white knight walked away and the Viking followed. He followed dutifully. He was even ready to walk along with the horse until the knight motioned with a smile to get on.

Is this...

Is this the gods blessing him?

Reminding him that they have not forgotten him?

Had they sent the son of Odin reincarnated to help on the path of redemption?

Of vengeance?

Either way, the knight helped position him behind. Went as far as allowing the warrior to wrap arms around the waist for security. The large beast of a horse took their weight with such ease this, too, may have been Sleipnir reborn. The beast rode them fast, and with a skill, he's not seen in a long time. He doesn't know where they are going, but where ever the knight goes. The Viking shall not be far.

He awoke to a gentle prod. Practically fallen asleep against the sturdy warm form, nose nuzzling into soft curls that smelled finely of vanilla, hazelnut and lavender. It was flowery like a woman, however, he's reminding himself this was Baldr reincarnated. The God is said to be one of light, purity, joy, and the summer sun, and when the knight smiles.

All was true.

He's helped down again and then guided to a vast view of a beautiful grassland as far as the eye can see. He could hear words like "bought", "freedom" and "slave no more". The Viking understood now. His golden eye mist in tears that will not fall.

His master bought his freedom and personally guided him to a location no one would harm him. Truly, if there is no other man he would pledge allegiance to.

Then and there the Viking dropped to a knee, his head down as he felt no worth to look upon this God with his eye. Not even the blind one. Vow a praise and spoke his alignment with Baldr, son of Odin, and Frigg, younger brother to Thor.

Of course, this lead to a back and forth between them as the knight ended up telling him to "stay", to be a "good boy" and "stay". The Viking blinked, tilted his head, and watch the knight ride off into the horizon.

What?

Oh.

Oh!

A test!

Yes, Master truly is a gifted intellect.

How is one to serve a God if they cannot prove themselves worthy of the God's ownership?

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