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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 1 year

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Screw it

Welcome Home Age Regression HCs

Wally 🍎

Usually from 1-3, can regress older

Can be voluntary or involuntary

Can be a bit of a brat sometimes? Especially if you seem to break his routine, that makes him pretty upset

Otherwise he’s just a super sweet baby

Autistic age regression let’s gooooo

He’s always seen with his childhood blankie, you can’t pull them apart

Like seriously

Don’t even attempt to break them apart, he’ll just throw a fit and start crying

He also LOVES apple slices and apples in general, it’s his same food

The best kinda baby for a playdate!! He’ll play house with ya, princess dressup, he’ll read books with you, he’s just a playful lil guy

Pretty much anyone can be his cg, but they’re usually either Barnaby, Julie, Howdy, or Poppy

He called Barnaby “pubby” once and it drove the dog to tears, he can never recover

I also hc him to be a cat regressor? He’s got those eyes and likes to bat things off of counters and stays up to ungodly hours

Lil weird ass meow meow

Barnaby 🐾

Primarily a pet regressor, it’s way too easy to figure out

Unusually easy to slip as well

Wally starts playing with him and he’s just immediately into puppyspace

Was kinda scared of people finding out bc he thought they would be confused, but they’re super supportive!!

Frank: “It was obvious, you’re a dog of all things.”

His favorite toy to chew on is either Wally’s slippers or his stuffed mouse

When he’s not in puppy regression, he can also (rarely) age regress to 5-10 yrs

The best big brother!!

If Wally and Barnaby regress together, he’s usually the one taking the reins and playing the “parent”

Occasionally he’ll snap out of regression if someone else is regressing while he is, just so he can help take care of them

He’s got older brother cg vibes, I swear

Julie 🌸

Surprisingly quiet when it comes to regression, but does it religiously

Usually down to toddler age, around 2-5 yrs

Has a MOUNTAIN of plushies, she practically sleeps in a big pile of them

There’s at least 7 separate hello kitty ones

She’s a big fan of cats in general, she’ll pretend that she has a pet kitty and use one of her plushies

Their name is Violet Twinkletoes :>>

Loves to do lil playdates with Frank and Wally, regressed or not

Tea parties ALL the time, it’s required

Loves to play big sister when others are regressed

Similarly to Barnaby, she’ll break out of regression if she notices others starting to go small, just so she can take care of them

She loves giving and getting lullabies

Pretty hard to get to sleep, she’ll probably just start jumping up and down on her bed before she tires herself out

Sally ☀️

Terrible twos, 2-4 yrs old

Princess regressor to a capital T

Super bossy, loud, loves to wear pretty dresses, just an all-around theater baby

Loves watching musical recordings, her favorite is Cats

“TOUUUUUCH MEEEEEE ITS SO EEEEAAAASSSY TO LEEEEEAVE MEEEEEEEEEEE”

Surprisingly easy to get to bed, she knows she needs the energy tomorrow for games so she just clocks out

Just don’t take away her tv, she can’t live without it

Her favorite show would definitely be My Little Pony, she loves the colors and the characters and how pretty everything is

She has a bunch of My Little Pony figurines in her drawers and on the floor

Very messy toddler too, but she’s willing to clean up when she needs to

It takes her a bit to notice if someone is feeling bad, but when she does she’s their BIGGEST support

Frank 🦋

The smartest baby, but also the grumpiest

Only regresses to deal with stress and anxiety, rarely regresses out of happiness

0-2 yrs, he’s so darn tiny!!

He loves being held, it’s usually his first request when he goes small

He also LIVES for bedtime stories, he always asks for one before bed

Sometimes he’ll sit on your lap and just start spouting facts about insects and butterflies, all with a slight lisp and everything

Knows a bunch of big boy words, but has trouble pronouncing it so he needs your help

Eddie it’s obv his main cg, but he’s also got Julie, Howdy, and Poppy

And Barnaby if he’s tiny enough

Doesn’t have many plushies but he does have a stuffed beetle named Skipper, he’s his best friend

Arguably the most talkative out of all the regressors, he’s always chatting

Eddie 💌

The most prominent flip of the neighborhood

He can go from baby to dad in an instant, he’s that quick to go big again

Has a pretty wide range of age when it comes to regressing, but usually stays in 1-4 yrs

Completely mute when he’s small, he’s either suckin on his paci or his thumb the entire time

Follows his cg like a baby duckling while little, sometimes holding their hand

It’s actually pretty easy to tell when he needs to go small; not talking as much, constantly following someone, probably fumbling with his hands, a lot more shy too

Frank takes care of him ofc, he’s the best dad

Frank would fuss over him a LOT, constantly checking for bruises and stuff, making sure he’s not sick

And he’s just sitting there like 👶

Eddie’s scared of the dark :((

It’s really easy to forget tho; he’ll say just about nothing the whole day, then you tuck him into bed and when you’re leaving you just hear him start crying and being all “hellpppp, don’t goooooo”

He’s stacked with night lights tho

He likes to put a plushy in front of the door, the closet, and underneath his bed so no monsters get him

I like to think that Frank is surprisingly strong for how lanky he is so he can carry is baby husband with little to no struggle

Eddie loves it

Howdy 🐛

Primarily a caregiver!!

Honestly would be such a good dad figure, he’s got four arms to carry four kids!

Would give silly lil nicknames for all the kiddos on the block; buddy, lil man, lil miss, sweetie, pumpkin, etc.

May not be the brightest caregiver but boy is he the sweetest

Would probably accidentally leave one of the kiddos on his back bc he’s got his hands full with the others, so they’re just hanging out behind him

The absolute best at pretend, he’s got stories and character roles all up his sleeves

Frank like to pretend that Howdy is turning into a butterfly, so he pretends he stays in a lil blanket cocoon and then emerges with these plastic butterfly wings on his back

It sends Frank into a frenzy every single time

If someone accidentally goes small at his Bugdega, he’ll drop everything and take them into the nearest bathroom so they can calm down and go small properly

He’ll also sneak a free treat in their pocket if they’re good, only if you’re good

Punishments are hard to give bc he’s pretty easily swayed, so he’ll probably just give you a slap on the wrist and scold you before sending you on your way

He loves his kids and he wants the best for them, he can’t stand to see them upset

Poppy 🐔

This one is the hardest to figure out bc there isn’t much to know about her, but I’ll do my best

TOP TIER MOM OF THE NEIGHBORHOOD

Also a default caregiver like Howdy, they are the ultimate parent duo

Always fussing over her kiddos, she’s got bandaids and Pepto Bismol in every corner of her house

She can be a bit stern when it comes to punishment, but she isn’t downright strict or mean

All she wants is for you to be careful

Her drawers are STACKED with toys, blankets, pacis, outfits, nappys, etc.

She always prepared when something is needed

She is the absolute best baker too; you’ll come to her house and it smells like freshly baked cookies

You can come into her kitchen to find a light snack, she’ll notice and make a whole meal

She’s also a lovely singer, so she’s perfect for lullabies

I like to imagine that if the kids are staying over at her house, they like to cuddle with her bc she’s a big ol bird

She’s got soft feathers!! She can’t help it!!

#I’m so hyperfixated on these silly lil puppets #gimme this ok?#gum headcanons #welcome home puppet show #welcome home arg #welcome home #wally darling #barnaby b beagle #julie joyful #sally starlet #frank frankly #eddie dear #howdy pillar #poppy partridge #agere positivity #agere headcanons #age regression #welcome home agere #gummunity posts

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blueberrypancakesworld · 7 months

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hey hey :) saw that ur requests are open again and i want to ask u if u could write for dead or faust from LOC with a male or trans male reader.if u comfortable with it even smut?the rest is up to u:) if u dont write for them at the moment feel free to ignore my ask.have a nice day <3

-wolf Anon🐺

Dead - A boyfriend like Satan

warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, tiny make out session, use of Y/n , m reader

masterlist

Info : Thanks for the request anon and I hope you have fun reading. I also have already done a littel thing for a male reader with Dead THIS maybe you wanna take a look.

Disclaimer : I don't want to glorify anything, it's about the actors who play a role, not the real events.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

°Two artists, worshippers of evil and friends of blood and death had met at one of the band's many parties. While Dead was about to get a beer, he saw the unknown man sneaking through the kitchen. At first he thought it was another drunk or on drugs. But no, when he stood in the doorway and saw the unknown man scurrying through the kitchen with a fly swatter.

°Watching him a little he saw that the unknown had a small vial with him and apparently filled it with the dead insects from the house. ,,What are you doing?" the blond asked and smirked as the person he was talking to seemed not to have even heard him before turning to him and showing him the jar with the dead insects.

°Y/n thought he was going to give him the same grief as everyone else and walk away, but the blond didn't, instead he grinned and looked at the different animals carefully. ,,Nice collection" Daed said and couldn't help but feel the need to show him his own collection. He saw that the other had a proud look in his eyes before Dead grabbed two beers and was able to be social for the first time.

°As he handed him the beer and made a move to follow him. ,,You know, I have a similar collection, but with slightly larger animals," he said as they walked up the stairs and into the room. Dead saw the other's eyes widen slightly, but not in shock or fear. It seemed to be the perception of an artist. Something that made the blond strangely happy and satisfied.

°Y/n walked through the room running over the various larger dead animals feeling the fur underneath and the cold. It was kind of pretty in its own way and white. Its insects could only be touched carefully but Deads. It was pleasant. ,,They are really pretty" he said and Dead lowered his gaze, not wanting the unknown to see his touched smile.

But what they didn't know was that this was only the beginning of their relationship.

°Since they met at the party and in their madness they stayed together in art, they also started to dance with each other. Much to the laughter of the others who thought it was a joke. But the two of them seemed to feel that their dead hearts were beating for each other. Since the party they met more and more often whenever they had time.

°Initially with a pretext but at some point it was more and more out of love. Neither of them spoke of it, but at the latest when Y/n found his heart collapsed and covered in blood in the bathroom and held him in his arms, stroked his back and held him close to him as his lips gently kissed Dead's head. Then they both knew that it was more than friendship between them.

°The kiss had brought them both back to life and Y/n helped Dead up again and again. The blonde in return gave his faithful friend pictures and animals, it was his way of expressing thanks and love. No matter what the others said initially still made fun. But after Dead threatened to leave the band, they stopped accepting Y/n gradually and he got an honorary place as a stage designer where he could also use his Dead insects and Dead's animals.

°The looks and comments stopped when Euronymus and Hellhammer came into the living room of the den and found the two boys in a make out session. The blonde had bent over his friend and slowly started kissing his naked torso while leaving small cuts on the skin with his knife, which seemed to turn them on even more.

°,,All right...let's go again" the black-haired man had mumbled as the two of them had pulled backwards with a confused, shocked look and closed the door. Which caused the two lovers to laugh before Y/n pulled the blonde back into a kiss. The sex between them was not missed.

°It was a couple straight from hell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@icarus-star , @raewritesfiction , @kiwiiicandiii

#lords of chaos #lords of chaos 2018 #lords of chaos dead #jack kilmer #lords of chaos dead x reader #dead x reader

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igneouswyvern · 7 months

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The funniest thing about the zelda series to me is the way that the Great Fairy designs differ so WILDLY from game to game like

We got everybody's favorite ocarina of time design:

Nice and sexualized, skimpy clothing, weird ass hair, fucking massive in relation to link. Always hated this design, 1/10

(didn't intend to rate them when I started this post but here we are now ig)

You got the alttp and albw designs:

In the first one she looks all right, second one she looks like a child for some reason? Tiny. Barely any larger than link himself. How am I supposed to take her seriously 4/10

Breath of the wild design next:

Girl you are. HUGE. Hi????? Pretty oversexualized too like oh my god she is fantastic porn bait but like. I respect this design I'm ngl. Fucking massive sexy bastard could probably crush my head with her thumb and forefinger. 7/10

Twilight princess design:

Uh.....huh. Hey girl, how many wings you got there? Also would you mind putting on a shirt? Please and thanks? 3/10

Then we got wind waker:

????? Hello girl, may I ask, what the hell? Why do you have so many arms. Where are your legs. Fi lookin ass, kinda? Barely even looks like a fairy. 5/10

NOW. I JUST STARTED PLAYING MINISH CAP AND I FOUND OUT WHAT THE GREAT FAIRY'S DESIGN IS IN THAT GAME. AND I ALSO LOOKED AND FOUR SWORDS DESIGN IS THE SAME. MAY I PRESENT TO YOU:

Four swords/minish cap design:

Holy crap?????? Absolutely gorgeous. There's three and they're all based off of insects. But holy shit they look amazing. They're so regal and dignified, they don't look like children like the albw design, they're not oversexualized like oot and botw, they're beautiful. My jaw dropped when I saw the butterfly fairy in minish cap I was like holy fucking shit. THIS is what a great fairy should look like. So fucking beautiful. My wife I love her so much easiest 10/10 of my life

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seresinhangmanjake · 1 year

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Beyond the Hills: Part 1

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader (College AU)

Summary: Technically, you and Jake Seresin have known each other for twelve years. All throughout your childhood education, you and Jake shared classes, lunch periods, homeroom teachers. It seemed if the opportunity for you to be in the same space arose, the universe made it happen. But you were not friends. Not enemies, either. Not much of anything outside of the occasional class project partners. When high school ended you assumed you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon, but then you find yourselves at the same college, and once again, forced together. It seems no matter where you go, Jake Seresin is there. But you are not the shy girl you were in your youth. You want to try things now; party, have fun, do things you’ve never done before, and suddenly, for reasons you don’t understand, Jake seems to take issue with your new choices.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, fluff, eventual smut, angst, types I'm sure, alcohol use

Words: 1367

Masterlist / Main Masterlist

----

You were quiet, shy, always had been, Jake remembered. From the very first second he saw you shuffle your way into Mrs. Paulson's first-grade class, hidden behind your mother's leg and gripping the hem of her skirt for dear life, Jake knew the type of girl you were. Boring. Lame. No fun and not worth the time. But that didn't stop him from watching you when he thought no one else was looking.

He'd stare curiously at the girl who colored alone, ate lunch alone, parted from the group at recess to go play with the flowers and insects at the perimeter of the playground, again, alone. He could see your lips move, forming words for a one-sided conversation with the plants and tiny bugs who would never respond. He'd notice how you smiled anyway.

Weird--that was the word. You were completely weird. And yet he watched you still. He watched you grow, as he had grown. He watched you turn into a woman, as he had become a man. For twelve years he had tried to keep his eyes from searching for you, from seeking out the odd girl he'd found annoyingly intriguing, and he failed miserably. So when you walked into lecture hall C for the freshman English class, choosing to sit three rows in front of him, just two seats to the left, Jake knew he was fucked. If you were around, an uncontrollable part of him would always be tempted to find you. He supposed he could fight with himself to stay away, but that wasn't a battle he was sure he could win. After all, he'd never won before.

—--

“Why were you staring at that girl the entire class?” Rooster asked him as they stood and shoved their books back into their bags. You were already on the other side of the room, chatting with some blonde girl that looked vaguely familiar. Jake might’ve even tried to recall her name, but with you beside her, he hardly cared to spare her another thought. You were just too damn…distracting. He could never fully put his finger on why, and delving too deep into it gave him the sense that he’d be opening a door not so easily closed. So he avoided it. Avoided you.

Without a response, the brunet to his right nudged him in the shoulder and repeated his question. Jake felt the blush rise from his neck, coating his cheeks before reaching the tips of his ears. He swallowed hard, using the extra time to try to craft some semblance of an excuse. “I wasn’t staring at anyone.”

Rooster slung his backpack over his shoulder, his eyebrow raised when he finally looked up at his friend. “Sure you were. That one right over there with the ponytail and the sweater.” He put no effort into being discreet when directing his index finger your way, but he eventually dropped his hand when he said, “Do you think she knows that’s a total ‘fuck me’ sweater?”

Jake’s eyes finally snapped to him. “Would you shut up?”

“I doubt she does; she looks pretty innocent.” Rooster’s head tilted. “Although, she could be faking it. They do that these days, you know. Pretend to be sweet angel virgins until you get them into bed and find out they somehow already know how to ride you like you’re a damn bull.”

“She’s not like that.”

Rooster perked. “Oh no? You know her or something?”

Jake sighed. Lightly groaned. Tried to shake his head in denial, but couldn’t.

“You know her!”

His tone was just loud enough for those nearby to turn their heads and raise brows in curiosity. Jake groaned again, fisting the front of his friend's shirt in his hand and dragging him off to the side of the lecture hall before releasing the fabric.

"Didn't I just tell you to shut up?" He scolded.

"I'm starting to sense some tension. What is she, an ex-girlfriend? One-time hookup?"

"No."

"Can she be my one-time hookup?"

"No!"

Chocolate-brown eyes narrowed and Rooster crossed thick arms over an even thicker chest. His scrutinizing gaze was beginning to set Jake on edge—well, more on edge. Jake didn’t need the questions. He didn’t care for the prying.

"Very interesting reaction, Seresin," he said with a smirk. He nudged his head your way. "Who is she?"

"Just some girl. I've kind of known her forever. We're from the same town. But we aren't friends."

"Then what are you?"

Jake’s gaze fell to the floor. "Nothing."

"Nothing? Oh, come on. At all?” Rooster snorted, shaking his head. “I've got to be honest, you are not really giving off 'that girl means nothing to me' vibes."

Nothing. That girl means nothing. It did feel wrong, in its own way. Too finite. Almost unfair to the feelings he refused to acknowledge. You were something—undoubtedly—to him. He just didn't know what. But trying to figure that out would be another thing tempting the opening of that damn door. The thought of it threatened to double the speed of his thumping heart, so he tamped it down.

Jake shrugged before shoving his hands in his pockets. "She's just a bit weird, that's all. Different. Hard to forget."

"Hard to forget because she's a fucking babe?" Rooster asked, peering around Jake to try to get another look at you, but the blond side-stepped, obliterating his view.

"Don't make me put a dent in your face."

"It would only add to my rugged handsomeness. You'd be doing me a favor."

—--

He was like a flash of lightning—there and then gone in the blink of an eye, and yet you were almost positive of his presence. Could practically feel it.

“Was that—” Lydia paused and stared at your face, sure to see the curiosity spread across it. “Was that Jake Seresin?”

You didn't want to be too sure, but from your brief glance, it looked a lot like him. Blond locks, mossy-green eyes that held their color even from such a distance, similar height. It was possible, but still not likely. While the university was sixty miles from your hometown—not exactly a harsh trek for anyone from your high school—it wasn't the easiest to get into. The only other person you'd known before arriving was Lydia, and before orientation week you’d only exchanged a handful of words. Jake Seresin’s attendance was not something you would have bet on, and you didn’t love the unexplainable twist it gave to your gut when you saw him.

You hadn’t spoken to him since you were partnered for a genetics project your last year of high school, and even then, neither of you put in much of an effort to carry conversations. Speaking to one another was practically forced. If you did try to get to know him in any way—purely for the ease of completing the assignment—he would always turn his face away from you with a tinge of pink on his cheeks.

You didn’t get it. You’d just assumed something about you was bothering him, that maybe he was trying to hold himself back from finally making a snarky comment about your appearance or interests or lack of friends after years of keeping quiet. But it never came. Like the rest of your class, Jake Seresin had the ammunition to tease you, but for whatever reason, he never took the opportunity. His eyes never held the same judgment. His tongue never lashed you with harsh and painful words. To him, you weren't some creature to be toyed with. And simply by not hurting you, Jake validated you as human—a person with a heart and a mind and feelings, who inhaled and exhaled the same air he did, and existed in the same space.

That’s why you had deemed him different so long ago. That’s why he’d stayed in your thoughts over the years. That’s why if he was looking at you, you could almost always feel his gaze burning into your skin, forming a brand you couldn't say you minded having.

And that’s why you worried the twist of your gut wasn't really that at all, but rather the early flutters of unburied excitement.

“Yea,” you said. “I think so.”

-----

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#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin top gun #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun maverick hangman #top gun hangman #glen powell

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ackerfics · 10 months

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FAMILY LINE — a house of the dragon fanfiction | aegon ii targaryen x oc

act one, chapter one: aesira and aether, aether and aesira (wc: 5.2k) | masterlist

ACT ONE: nigredo

— primordial matter births the beginning of a magnum opus. the threads of the greatest misery is woven into a beautiful existence rising in a sky of a thousand bursting nebulae. the darkening of her soul will never put a stopper on the divinity flowing in her veins, dim the glow of her cheeks kissed by the gods, nor snuff out the constellation illuminating with each step she makes. for this is how a relic reaches its zenith; there would be no story unless the heroine crawls on bloodied elbows and weeps out tears enough to nourish the realm.

112 AC

Aegon didn’t know he had cousins from Father’s side of the family until the funeral of the Siren of the Vale.

Strangers are everywhere and all he could do was hold onto Mother’s skirt with one of his hands while his younger siblings cling with both of their arms as if Mother is going to disappear with the mummified body in front of the people. Helaena is crying, squeezing her eyes shut and her mouth murmuring nonsensical things that Aegon doesn't pay any attention to on a given day. They’re probably weird statements about the spine-crawling insects she’s starting to show interest in — Aegon doesn’t need to hear that, thank you very much. Aemond, his youngest sibling, turns away from the sad sight and presses his face on the crook of Mother’s neck. Aegon can see that the action causes her discomfort, with her belly round with another sibling, yet she runs a gentle hand over the back of Aemond’s blond head in an attempt to prevent his cries from surfacing through the silence of the burning ceremony. The oldest of the family looks away and instead focuses on the Septon conducting the final farewells to the once enchanting Aellara Targaryen.

He’s never met her but just like Father’s first wife, she surrenders to the flames as is any member of the Targaryen bloodline.

Once the Septon finishes his preachings, a cry rings out in the crisp salty air of Dragonstone, the final place to witness the glory of the honoured deceased. Heads turn and almost immediately, a look of sympathy and pity washes over their faces.

At the centre of the babe’s wails isn’t Aegon’s younger brother. The little boy is too old to cry without any reason. The source of the cries comes from a newborn babe protected in a black swaddle lined with embroideries of little birds clutched against a girl’s chest, a girl only at the same age as Aegon. Beside her is another boy of their age weeping with shaking shoulders, tiny fists furiously rubbing his eyes and leaving behind messy tear tracks and red-rimmed skin.

Mother gasps a hitched breath. “Oh, gods.”

Aegon looks back and forth between Mother and the children, two of which have tears streaming down their faces in a never-ending spectacle while the girl only stares at the mummified body with burning eyes that are likely to shed tears at any moment. She keeps bouncing the babe in her arms but it wasn’t enough to quell his shrieks. Despite that, Aegon finds her pretty, which isn’t the most appropriate thought for the severity of the ceremony. So, he looks away from blatantly admiring the girl’s aesthetics. The babe is crying for his mother. The boy of five name days is also crying for his mother. Aegon is left wondering why the girl isn’t doing the same. He glances at her again from behind Mother’s skirts, trying to imagine the smiles that could light up her face. He thinks they would be no doubt the most radiant thing he’ll ever see. Aegon was told snippets of the children’s mother, how she is—was—the most beautiful woman in the realm, and thousands of ballads dedicated even at her passing. Surely the woman’s beauty will live on in her daughter.

Teary lilac irises framed with curling, pale eyelashes arrest his cornflower ones, fully making him look away with burning cheeks.

“Where is their father?”

“The Rogue Prince?”

Little Aegon’s ears perk at the title.

His uncle is built from the Smith’s mould of the Warrior. He’s only seen the man a couple of times growing up. With the way he walks, Aegon instantly wants to be like him. The confidence and smugness oozed in waves with every step — he dreams of stomping the bricks of the Red Keep with those. But Mother doesn’t have any good things to say about him. He always hears her grumbling to Father about his atrocities, and how it affects and dishonours his lady wife. Aegon’s little stomps stopped right after overhearing Mother’s words. Guilt seeps into his little body. He doesn’t want to become someone that ignited this much reaction from the members of his family, especially Mother.

“He’s not even with his children. Poor things. It’s like he holds no heart. Look at how they’re shedding their tears.”

True enough, Daemon Targaryen is standing at the back of the small gathering. Aegon inconspicuously tilts his head to look at his once idol. The man looks nothing like the dashing prince the men and women of the court are either fawning over or fearing. There are no tear tracks like his sons nor the devastated look possessed by his daughter. Aegon’s uncle stares at the body with eyes rivalling that of the souls crying for salvation. His eyes hold nothing of the fiery glint of mischief he always carries while sauntering in the Red Keep. The usual manic grin tugging at his lips is reduced to a flat line, almost a frown. As Aegon looks closer, he can discern a sheen of cloudy mist covering the limbal rings of his lilac eyes. What is his uncle seeing?

“It’s time for the cremation.”

The responsibility lies with the husband. The Blood Wyrm is trilling right at the top of the hill with two dragons the size of a house and a little one that looked like it just emerged from its egg, most probably those of the children. (Aegon feels the rising jealousy at how their dragon eggs hatched; his egg turned stone cold after his third name day.) Even with the snake-like dragon emitting noises for his bonded, Daemon makes no move to remove himself from his perch, his hands tightly grasping each other in front of him. The clicking in the blood-red dragon’s long neck increased in volume as the silence stretched. (Aegon heard stories of how dragons resonate with their riders’ pain after having bonded so deeply. Father told him that Daemon’s bond with Caraxes is one for the history tomes. Maybe Caraxes wants to end this suffering sooner than later.) With the husband indisposed despite his presence in the funeral ceremony, the Septon turns to the children with a troubled visage.

“Young Lord Aether, as the heir of Aellara Targaryen’s bloodline, it is with heartfelt humility that we request for you to initiate the cremation.”

Aether, the boy’s name, tenses at the statement.

Aegon feels Mother’s hand on his shoulder.

“Take your time to collect yourself, my Lord.”

The girl takes one hand from their swaddled younger sibling’s head and intertwines it with her twin brother’s. Aether blinks at the contact and meets the girl’s gaze. He crumbles, it appears that another sob is bubbling in his throat. Aegon presses himself deeper into Mother’s skirts. He can hear Helaena whimpering from Mother’s other side. The eldest son of The Peaceful King continues watching the lonely twins. He takes in every tremble in the boy’s shoulders and the wordless looks coming from the girl. It must be extraordinary to have someone share a soul with you in the womb; having to communicate with mere thoughts is a feat in itself.

Finally, Aether separates himself from his sister. Little steps start the cremation. One of the smaller dragons at the hilltop stands straighter than before. The red of the scales only glints once the sunlight perfectly hits the beautiful creature at the right angle. Just like his bonded, the dragon stalks with small, pounding steps until it stands at the bottom of the hill. At the same age as the little boy, its wings cover the entirety of the people attending the ceremony, encompassing everyone under the shade of its protection. It waits for the command. Aether lets out another cry, his hiccups wrenching the hearts of many, even Aegon’s. The dragon leans forward at the sound of its bonded’s weeps.

“Dr—” Another sob. Fast-paced breathing.

“Aether,” the girl calls out in a wobbly voice, trying to calm down a restless babe in her arms.

“I-I can’t do it, Aesira,” he replies while rubbing his eyes.

Aesira.

The Septon intervenes. “My Lord.”

“I-I don’t want to do it.”

“You have to, my Lord.”

Aether cries out. Now, both of his fists cover his eyes.

Aegon sees Father shedding a couple of tears.

“Everything’s going to be alright, Aether,” Aesira’s voice is tiny but it carries through.

At his sister’s words, he takes a deep breath. “Dra—” Aether makes eye contact with the gold-flecked emerald eyes of his dragon. Maybe Aegon is imagining it but the dragon tilts his head down as a form of encouragement for the young boy. “Achilles,” the creature of legend stretches its neck to the heavens, mirroring its bonded, who lifts his chin in the air, “Dracarys!”

And to fire Aellara Targaryen succumbs to.

From ashes we were moulded, to ashes we will return.

“The wild will find itself in the jaws of the beast it created. First delight against first delight. From within, the three-headed dragon sprouts from a bud.”

“Will you stop doing that?” Aegon snaps, nearly breaking the writing tool he has in his hand as he looks up from writing basic words to fix a horrified look on his sister.

The third child of the King blinks away the stupor that clouds her eyes. Her fingers are twitching on the tabletop, the army of ants bringing crumbs of honey cake going around her still appendages. Helaena is always doing that — being creepy and staring at something for too long. Aegon caught her looking through him but most likely never seeing him at the same time for she was too busy mumbling things under her breath like the witches he read from the fairy tale books in the royal library. It never fails to drop a chill down his spine. It doesn’t help that she appears to mirror the dolls she receives from the court ladies for her name days; with those wide, soulless eyes of glassy blue and clothes elaborate, pieces of thick material sewn together to accentuate the ruffles and gems. So, while Aegon wears disdain clear on his face, Helaena simply stares and stares, huffs for a moment, and goes back to guiding the ants to their destination and giving them more honey cake crumbs.

What an oddball.

Days spent learning lessons with Helaena are always bathed in silence. Or heavy murmurs coming from his sister. Yet both of them have certain quirks that will make their Septa place a hand on her forehead. Aegon is too restless. Helaena is too out of it. Both of them never finish their work for the day, so it keeps piling up on the tabletop of the study. Today is the same as always. Except that there is the prospect of The Keep accepting three permanent residents at the end of the moon.

One moon after the funeral of The Rogue Prince’s lady wife, the question as to where the children should be warded is brought into the light. Apparently, Prince Daemon Targaryen disappeared without any note, only leaving on dragonback and leaving behind large prints on the ground. The children aren’t orphans but in all rights, with a dead mother and an absent father, they are considered as such.

Mother expresses her worry each time she visits the nursery, exchanging hushed whispers with her handmaidens. They were children, she says with brown eyes that carry too much emotion for a Queen. Father, on the other hand, asks Aegon and Helaena, Aemond being too young to understand, if they would ever like it if there are more children for them to play with. Aegon thought that there are more than enough children for him to share his dragon figures with; Mother is pregnant with his youngest sibling after all. Father dismisses that with a light laugh that Aegon has never seen. Your cousins need a home, he says with a reminiscent sheen covering his words, they’re children born from the sister of someone I will always hold dear. This dearest someone is the beautiful blonde woman enclosed in four gilded frames at the atelier of the castle. Her portrait is the most extravagant among the rest and it glows right when the streams of light hits it perfectly.

To preserve the memory of King Viserys’s first wife, The Red Keep is open to welcoming her niece and nephews, never to be sent to the jaded regions of the Vale.

“Do you think they’re going to play with us?” Aegon asks with his eyes set on the letters of the common language he was assigned to follow. He hears Helaena whisper something in the wind. “What was that?”

Like somebody catches her sneaking her hand in a jar of newly baked treats, Helaena stops. She keeps his gaze on the table, following the scuttling of the ants. “I hope she likes ants”

Aegon knits his eyebrows. “The girl?”

Helaena nods.

He then laughs. “What girl would like insects?”

His younger sister purses her lips. “A friend.”

“Well, that’s boring. And gross. And weird.”

Helaena keeps quiet before continuing her little conversations with the ants.

The scribbling of a writing tool against the stiffness of the paper fills in the silence. Until his sister once again opens her mouth in a dreamy drone for a child of four name days, “Hearts are cradled within the palms of the abandoned.”

She’s holding the babe close to her chest again.

Aegon stands beside Mother’s seated form in the nursery, her hands once again seeking solace on the swell of her belly. He remains the only child that has to be present while the others toddle with the wetnurses. But that doesn’t stop him from being restless. Aegon keeps on fidgeting in his spot, only stopping when Mother slightly pinches the skin of his upper arm in an effort to make him as still as a five name day old boy can be. The jut in his lower lip is apparent as he looks at the children of the same age as him. The both of them are a little shorter than him but for some reason, little Aegon doesn’t have the heart to meet their eyes. This is not the time for you to be shy, Mother tried telling him moments before the handmaidens escorted the new residents to the nursery, where they will be settling in since they’re not at an age where an entire bedchamber is given to them. Aegon spots new mattresses on the floor and another crib for the babe.

“Hello, young ones,” Mother greets them with a good-natured smile.

“Your Grace.” The girl crosses her ankles and curtsies in a grace that puts dancers to shame. She notices her brother not paying any respect to the monarch sitting in front of them, so she nudges him at the side, eliciting a loud groan from him. The boy bows down with one arm on his heart and the other behind his back, but not before glaring at his sister at the corners of his eyes.

“Your Grace,” the boy mumbles, which earns him another dirty look from the girl carrying the babe.

Mother’s smile slightly grows at their manners. It pleases her. They straighten when she waves a hand. It’s an action that showcases Mother being a Queen in every way. Aegon doesn’t like it. It means she’s dismissing him away. “Aesira and Aether, am I correct?” The both of them nod. “I hope your visit to the King comes out fruitful.”

Aether nods while Aesira adjusts their little brother in her arms. She’s the one who answers Mother. “Uncle is a kind man. We deeply apologise for making you wait, Your Grace; he showed us a beautiful model of Valyria and we exchanged stories that took up most of the time.”

“How do you like the model?”

A spark lights up Aesira’s eyes. Her shoulders lift in purely concealed enthusiasm. Her brother snorts a little before painting a smile on his lips like he finds this sight a constant in his life yet it never fails to amuse him. “I find it intriguing, Your Grace. It’s a subject I will always find myself drawn to.” She looks down at the small tuft of hair peeking through her brother’s swaddle. She carefully tucks it in, making the babe squirm and nuzzle into the crook of her neck, his tiny hands gripping the material of her dress. “The model must have taken so long to assemble. I notice it’s not even finished yet.”

Mother nods. “When I first saw it myself, I thought it was a marvel that the King’s passion radiated from. You can ask one of the Maesters to lend you more books about it.” She then fixes her attention on the silent Aether beside Aesira. “What about you, little Lord? Has anything captured your interest? Is it not the model?”

“None yet,” he answers. Aesira once again nudges him. “Your Grace.”

“This is my eldest son, Aegon,” Mother says with something inside her throat, right at the word son. She gestures for him and he takes it as a cue to stand a little closer to her and the pair. Her hands are flat on his shoulders. Aegon prevents himself from squeaking at the weight of them. “He’s eager to have new playmates.” Mother then looks down at him, her brown eyes reflecting his wide-eyed stare. “Aegon, won’t you show him your toys? I’m sure he’s going to find joy in them the same way you do.”

Aegon wants to cry. In the years that he remembers, he has always shared things with others. No moment was purely dedicated to him that was tickling his brain. He counted himself as lucky when Helaena was born because that would mean his toy dragons and soldiers were still his. Those crumbled when Aemond followed two years after his sister. Now, he doesn’t have anything left because if you’re the eldest child, you don’t exactly have a constant thing in your possession. The attention that wasn’t already on him was taken away. Mother never looked at him twice again with two siblings in tow (with a third coming around any moon now), fighting for her appreciation and Father’s glances. With three new children running around the Keep, getting both of those is merely a far-fetched dream. How can he compete with more people who look like the pretty portrait in the atelier?

It takes him longer to answer, the hands on his shoulders weighed more than he can fathom. “Yes, Mother.”

The answer satisfies Mother for the smile on her face is something he sees for the first time. There’s pride mingled in the small pools of her irises, glinting ever so slightly that Aegon finds himself awe in. He wants to be at the other end of that look. It makes him feel like he has done something right at such a young age.

“Now, I will leave you children be. I will retire in my chambers until we sup. Aegon,” she calls out. The little boy can’t hide his pout. “Be nice.”

There are no pats on the hand, no caresses of a mother’s touch in between his hair, and there is definitely no trace of that prideful look Aegon caught a glimpse of. With the flutter that of a butterfly, Mother exits the room, bringing along with her the train of her red day gown. Aegon remains staring at the door, not knowing what to do next but fiddle with his fingers, he’s taken out of his stupor by someone clearing their throat. It’s a high-pitched sound that has him nearly jumping out of his skin. He turns around and finds himself in the centre of an expectant gaze.

“Your mother told us to play,” Aether supplies, with eyes void of any emotion except expectancy. He’s staring at Aegon the way Helaena does it. It jolts him and he nearly shouts for the boy to stop doing that if not for Aesira interrupting.

“Aether, don’t be so disrespectful,” she lightly scolds. “This is not our home. We’re only guests.”

“This is our new home, Sira,” Aether rebuts. “And I want to see if his toys are better than my old ones back in Dragonstone.” Like it’s more of a priority than anything.

Aegon takes a step forward. “I have wooden dragons that we can play with.”

Aether’s eyes narrow. “What dragons?”

“Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes. Though Aemond took Vhagar and he’s never returned it since,” he scrunches his face as if the idea of his wooden dragons being stolen is a rancid thought. Aegon never forgets to throw a dirty look at the young babe sleeping in the older cribs of the nursery. In between Aemond’s pudgy hands is Aegon’s Vhagar. He’s long since given up on taking it from his little brother, seeing firsthand how strong a babe’s grip can be. Plus, his cries are not the sweetest to listen to either — they’re piercing and if possible, can shatter even the thickest of glass. After his attempt at taking it back, Aegon experiences Mother’s anger that nearly made him cry as well. So, now Vhagar is Aemond’s and the other two are left within Aegon’s toy chest, wherein the contents have significantly dwindled through the years. “Don’t bother taking it from him; he can be a bit of a banshee.”

They’re like gems — Aether’s eyes. Aegon has only ever seen such a colour on a lady’s neck, encrusted with the finest of glittering gold, and ears where they are dangling for their lives. They glow under the dim light of the nursery and Aegon doesn’t know what to feel about it. It is reminiscent of how his uncle Daemon stares at the things he finds interesting during his visits to the Keep (before he was exiled, again, as told by Mother when he asked about Daemon’s whereabouts). A little half-smile tugs on Aether’s lips, almost elfish in a way that it’s full of mischief.

“I want Balerion then.”

Aegon feels his world crumble.

“Aether,” a soft voice nags.

He finds himself staring at the pretty girl carrying the babe. Aesira has her eyebrows in a downturned arch, her lips mouthing that she’s sorry for her brother.

“What?” The younger blond boy swivels to his sister. “We’re guests, as you say, right? I think Mother told us back then that guests always have to be attended to by the hosts. Aegon,” he waves at him, “is clearly the host.”

“Mother also told us to be decent and mindful.” Aesira stops glaring at her brother and softens her entire face to make Aegon feel better. “Do you want him to take Balerion from you, my Prince?”

Aegon’s face burns at the undivided attention given to him by the girl. While the violet of Aether’s eyes is startling, all wildfire without calm, Aesira’s is a soft lilac, the serenity upon contact. His little heart pounds away in his chest. The squeezes are enough for him to twist his face in a grimace and one of his hands to cover the area above the racing organ. The sensation spreads from his heart to every part of his body until it reaches his eyes, altering his vision to see this girl in a different light. She’s all sunrays and stardust — so bright that little Aegon has no problem being blind.

“No,” Aegon answers her question after a few minutes of stalling (staring).

“Stop looking at me like that, Sira.”

Aesira giggles. It’s a sound akin to a choir of seraphs. “I think Balerion suits Prince Aegon quite well.”

Aether fixes him with a disbelieving expression. Aegon holds himself so that he won’t squirm because Aether shares the same judgmental mask on Mother when she’s not satisfied with his appearance; always fussing about how his vest doesn’t match with his eyes or how his hair seems unruly to be called neat. It’s akin to being cut open and being spectated. The younger boy shrugs, making a sound at the back of his throat that Aegon likens to a goat. Aether, the dragon’s diet, befits the image Aegon has in his mind regarding this weird boy. “He doesn’t seem ‘conqueror’-like to me. I still prefer to play with his Balerion toy dragon. I look more like a warrior than him.” He puffs out his chest as if his words require him to be prideful.

Aegon leans forward with his fists clenching at his sides. “I am named after The Conqueror. Of course, Balerion goes to me.”

“... I don’t see it.”

He wilts.

“But just this one time.”

The world is bright again.

Aegon runs to his toy chest and pulls out Balerion and Meraxes, carrying them like potato sacks under his arm. He chooses not to mind the grin of elfish mischief on his new friend’s face. He’s eager to have a new playmate that doesn’t mumble creepy things or cry when they get hit by a little bump. Aegon can tell — Aether is a fun person to be around with. And if Aether is present, Aesira is sure to follow, which means Aegon has something pretty to look at. Maybe he can convince her to play the princess kept in the tower, so he can act out one of his dreams as a worthy prince who rescues the fair maiden from her prison. That way, she can give him a kiss on the cheek as a reward and a handkerchief or piece of her dress as a favour for winning her hand. The thought of it sends Aegon in a rush of excitement.

“Play nice,” Aegon hears Aesira whisper to her brother. He tilts his head like a puppy.

Aether only snickers.

The younger boy, in fact, did not play nice.

What should be a nice game of conquering the territories of the Seven Kingdoms becomes a fight between the two dragons who are supposed to be allies.

It’s a miracle that Aemond doesn’t wake up from his deep nap at the noises Aether makes while trying to make Balerion surrender. But Helaena looks up from drawing random scribbles on her bound journal because of the sounds of wood scraping against wood. She looks down at her journal when she finds nothing interesting. At one point, Aegon’s hand gets included in the fray, biting his lip to not let someone hear his cry for pain. This is a game that his new friend is enjoying; he doesn’t want to spoil the fun.

Aegon matches Aether’s enthusiasm. For all the times his hand is hit and the bursts of giggles Aether did, Aegon manages to pin down his Meraxes toy dragon on the floor. He expects the younger boy to feel dejected but much to his surprise, the giggles only increase. For once, Aegon doesn’t hide that he’s enjoying this roguish scene of child’s play. He doesn’t bite his lip when his hand is pressed between the wooden material, Aether doesn’t either. Their laughter rings out through the nursery that they don’t notice a certain babe’s fussing.

“No!” Aesira exclaims.

Aegon immediately turns his head to look at her.

“Ha!” Aether cheers. “I win! How about it? My dragon can beat any beast as long as I’m the rider.”

He doesn’t pay attention to his new friend’s self-celebration. His hand is limp around the wooden Balerion dragon.

Across from him, Aesira is in tears, bouncing the wailing babe in her arms. “Don’t cry, Daemian!” The babe keeps crying. Aesira is frantic now that the sound increases its volume. Her eyes keep flickering between the babe in her arms and the fussing toddler in one of the cribs. “Shh, Daemian, please. You’re going to wake up Aemond.” Aesira tries everything she can think of — patting the babe on the back, humming a lullaby that doesn’t help, cooing at the babe’s screaming face, and firmly hugging him close to her. Before long, she’s crying with him yet she’s more silent than him. “I don’t know what to do.”

Like a saving grace, a wet nurse barges into the nursery, movements distressed and searching for any mishap surrounding the Queen’s youngest child who is sleeping soundly after finding the most comfortable position, pudgy fingers still around one of Vhagar’s feet. Relief washes her face for a moment until she realises that the cry comes from the newest wards of the royal family. The wet nurse presses a hand on her chest, face scrunching in phantom pain before walking toward the three children forming a triangle on the rug-covered floor. She kneels in front of the weeping little ones, slightly leaning forward to give the girl all her attention.

“My Lady, I believe the babe is hungry,” the wetnurse placates.

“He always cries back in Dragonstone,” Aesira sniffles, “but he stops when I’m the one hugging him. Why won’t he stop now? Does he hate me?”

The wet nurse ruefully smiles at her. “I’m sure that isn’t the case, my Lady. He’s simply looking for his mouth to latch on. See how he presses himself on your chest? That is what babes do when they get hungry. Now, he’ll be as quiet as a snoring sheep once he’s drunk his fill. That is if you’ll let me, my Lady?”

The hesitance is clear on her face. If possible, she pulls the babe closer to her.

Aegon interjects, “Aemond always stops crying after he’s been tended to by his wetnurse. I’m sure it will be fine, A-Aesira.” He bites the inside of his cheek for the first time his tongue ever dares form the syllables of her name.

“Yes, Sira!” Aether cheers with a spurt of energy. “Damy is safe and you can play with us! You’ll be the maiden we’ll rescue in the battle.”

“I-Uhm,” Aesira looks down. “I’ll be with Princess Helaena instead.”

Her brother nods. “Alright. Just promise that you’ll be playing with us next time.”

They join their pinkies together and Aether goes back to facing a bemused Aegon while Aesira shyly introduces herself to Helaena.

“Don’t look so glum, Prince Aegon, Aesira never breaks her promises,” Aether forces a grin. “She’ll eventually come around.”

Aegon begrudgingly looks away from the little girl clad in the simple red dress that seems to outshine Mother. The boys continue their games with lesser enthusiasm than moments prior. This time, it’s Aegon who initiates the rowdier plots by bumping Balerion’s head into Meraxes’s. It garners a smile from the younger boy but it’s subdued.

That night, when Aegon tries finding a comfortable position for him to sleep on his mattress and is left staring at the drab ceiling of the nursery, he catches Aether silently getting up from his mattress to sleep beside Aesira, who insisted that Daemian, their baby brother sleep next to her. It’s only as Aether wraps his arms around the girl and the babe that he realises Aesira’s shoulders are shaking. From then on, the children who unfortunately found themselves in a completely different world, one that’s separate from their own, only have one another against all odds.

Aegon turns away from them, ignoring the abysmal hole swallowing him from the inside out, and gives them the luxury of having their moment as theirs alone.

if you want to be added to the taglist, just reply or send an ask !! mwa

#— rory's passages 🌼#— family line | hotd ☀️#aegon ii x oc #aegon x oc #hotd x oc #hotd x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x oc #aegon ii fic #aegon x reader

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fleshdyke · 1 year

Text

new equo design + more info under the cut

equo’s story takes place in some sort of magic au some time between darkstalker and the main arc, somewhere around 1200 years after darkstalker was defeated. in this au, magic is a vague and widely defined concept separate from animus powers, and it’s a pretty normal thing and considered a gift. witchcraft is possible, but it’s considered very taboo to talk about.

equo’s father was a seawing and her mother a nightwing, and he’s the result of a failed attempt to resuscitate the nightwing population via hybrids. the idea was to raise hybrid nightwings on the mainland so they would grow up healthy and take them back to the volcanic island once they reached adulthood, but not all of the dragonets were found, and equo was one of the ones that was never brought back. the nightwings had meticulous records of every dragonet, though, and kept looking for her and any other missing nightwing hybrids.

they were raised by its father on a tiny islet in the bay of a thousand scales, hidden in a cave or bushes for most of the day. equo has always loved swimming, and while he was limited to a little cove for most of his dragonethood, she’s very good at it. they’ve always suffered from chronic pain, so he usually prefers walking to flying and swimming over all else, but she can fly and isn’t bad at it. equo’s always preferred meat over plants, no matter how much their father tried to get it to eat a much more plant-heavy diet like most seawings have. for the most part, equo grew up on fish, occasionally something else her father brought back like turtle or whale or seabird, but when he was old enough to fly and fend for herself, equo started to regularly hunt passing seabirds as they preferred a “meatier” taste as opposed to fishy like most of the stuff her father brought back. equo had always had an appreciation for the macabre, kept bones from prey as much as possible, and his father always encouraged it. when equo was ten, they set out on their own, at first sticking to the forested fringes of the sky kingdom where she could still regularly visit his father, but slowly migrating further inland and visiting less and less until they were completely self-sufficient.

at fifteen, equo lives in the woods between the sky kingdom and the rainforest, and has built himself a pretty good little home. she’s built her home half out of a cave, with a small coop of chickens and a couple small plots of crops. he’s built it all by hand and prides themselves on how sufficient she is with its talons. they also fashioned themselves leg braces to help with her chronic pain and wears them most of the time. she found a hobby in taxidermy and bone collecting, and spends a good chunk of his time doing just that. their house is decorated with taxidermy animals, wet specimens, disassembled and whole articulated skeletons, rocks and crystals she finds, random bones and pelts and feathers etc etc, tapestries she’s woven by hand, things like that. he’s most proud of his fullbody mounted stag and great horned owl, and has entire shelves of skulls on display. she has a colony of dermestid beetles for cleaning bones, as well as luna moth tents because they’re its favourite insect. she also has two pet crows that were both siblings found on the ground after their nest had been attacked by a predator, and they’re both very much bonded to him.

while equo was hatched on a full moon and granted seer powers, they didn’t manifest in the same way that an average nightwing’s would because of his seawing blood. she also practices witchcraft and necromancy, and is capable of bringing an animal back from the dead as long as the body is in good condition. they use witchcraft to make itself appear different to others, usually in a much more shadowy, fluid-like, monster-y form, but also sometimes can make herself appear invisible. he also likes to make light shows and other unnatural phenomena using his witchcraft, and sometimes even makes potions in a very traditionally witchy way. completely unknown to them, equo’s become known among the rainwings and more southern skywings as a sort of cryptid/monster that lives in the woods. she’s seen as a large, dark, spiny dragon that causes the death of any animals (and presumably dragons) it comes across, with glowing eyes and strange powers that allows him to teleport and be in multiple places at once. ironically, being a witch or necromancer isn’t part of her reputation. they’re completely unaware of the fact that other dragons know of it, much less that they’re scared of her. equo meets tiki after her hawk falls ill and she becomes desperate and seeks out the necromancer in the woods, but their full story is for another post.

#she’s sooo much lighter than he was before #as much as i liked the darker scales it made it much harder to draw them so yk #i do like their new design though. its cool #rambles #art #my art #wof #wings of fire #wof oc #wings of fire oc #nightwing #nightwing wof #seawing #seawing wof #my ocs #equo

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wonderinc-sonic · 9 months

Note

Chameleon owner back again.

Chameleon don't really react to sound as they don't have ears. Now they can actually hear as they have an inner ear but they do lack an outer ear which means they have a limited hearing range.

They hear mainly through vibration with being able to hear higher frequencies better than lower which is good since most insects make higher pitch sounds. Its actually interesting that they hear higher better then lower since Chameleons normally talk in frequencies lower than human hearing range. They can be stressed out by sounds but its more sudden noises or loud ongoing noises.

If you want something that Espio could be stressed out about, things like flashing colours and being touched by strangers.

Chameleons have ultra sensitive eyes and it can be used against them. While they don't mind bright lights too much, they don't like sudden flashes at all. There are a few prey insects like mantis who weaponise their colourful wings by flashing them at a concentrating Chameleon at it scares them and can actually make them run away.

Espio would definitely get stress out at a rave, probably would amount to either motion sickness or sensory overload.

I mentioned previously that Chameleons can like to be pet but they pretty much have to be pet from birth to get used to it. If a Chameleon isn't used to being touched then even the lightest touch can trigger high stress. It's one of the reasons they only like their owners touching them if they are used to it, there's alot of built in familiarity they can fall back on like scent if the touch gets too much.

Espio would be OK with the Chaotixs touching him and then later on Silver and Blaze but wouldn't be if its someone he doesn't talk with as much. It possible that being touch be someone just an acquaintance would ever be stressful or even repulsive.

BTW I had a headcanons about the Chaotixs living arrangements. In Heroes, the Chaotixs are shown to have those giant overhead lamp in their office and Vector will make comments on their electric bill. I believe that to make up for the lack of central heating, the Chaotixs uses giant heat lamps and electric blankets to make up for it. This means that they have a lower gas bill but a ridiculously high electric bill.

Considering that all three are creatures that hibernate if it gets too cold, I think its a sacrifice they're willing to take.

CHAMELEON LORE 🔔🔔🔔🦎🦎🦎

I studied sound design at uni, and iirc humans hear from 20 - 20,000 Hz at birth, most of us can't hear that high as adults. Just looked up the exacts, and according to the internet, Chameleon ears seem to be best designed for 200 - 600 Hz. That is pretty tiny compared to human hearing range!? Naturally, having alternatives to hearing (vibrations like you said) means they have another sense there, but still!

If my memory serves, sounds from like 250- 500 are Low MidRange. Really important for voices, music (often the first frequency of a note), and normal sounding speech, but all of those have multiple repetitions up the scale that add layers and make your voice sound whole. Interesting that if we took these numbers, Espio can't necessarily hear his own voice very well. I find lower male voices tend to have key frequencies that are below 200 hz. (Of course, Sonic characters aren't gonna follow the same rules as their species in our world lol)

On the bright and flashing colours, I wonder if there's a reason why? I mean most animals don't like flashing lights to be fair, but if you can see UV maybe thats even worse? Frightening Espio with one of those spinning colourful windturbines. He can join me in fearing nightclubs and raves.

When it comes to handling, google says that you have to act a bit like you are a branch, and that you shouldn't touch their horns. Any more places you should or shouldn't touch? In a non creepy way, like how birds shouldn't be pet below their neck.

I acc love the Chaotix heat lamp, but they're broke, so I hope they have enough to run their heat lamp 😭

Thank you Anon, Kecly and Espy!

#thanks for the ask! 🦎#espio the chameleon #chameleon facts for you!#wonderincs #queue

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damnation-if · 1 year

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i’ve been having a really atrociously bad time lately so i thought i’d amuse myself by skipping ahead and just. writing something really fun; this is part of a possible scene you Might see like half a dozen chapters from now if you make certain choices and if your mc ends up being pretty close with Heluur asjbgdfg

(REALLY don’t click on this if you want to avoid spoilers)

You can see a few of the Inquisitors beginning to get antsy, shifting back and forth on their feet and exchanging worried glances, as the gentle patter of rain on the church’s steepled roof gradually becomes louder and louder. One or two of them flinch as a sudden crack of thunder rattles the windows, fiery red light turning the lens of stained glass above you into a hellish beacon for a brief moment.

Their leader must be able to see some of your thoughts plainly on the face of your captor, because he glares darkly at you, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. “What? What is it? Speak!”

You laugh at him, the blood leaking from your (//her//) cracked and dehydrated tongue gurgling as the memory of the carnage of that first night replays in your mind.

“You should run,” you tell him, grinning–you’re compelled to tell the truth, after all.

His first instinct is to sneer at you, perfect teeth glimmering as he snorts contemptuously, but after a second or so he seems to realise the same thing, doubt flickering across his features for the first time since you were summoned here. The woman you’re possessing is trying to scream, trying to warn him… but they’ve weakened her too much in order to make you talk, and you ignore her attempts to regain control as easily as you would a tiny insect buzzing around your head.

“You’re going to regret this,” you add, as another lightning strike splits the sky, “but only for a very short time.”

[[And then the earth trembles…]]

Although that doesn’t seem like an extreme enough word to describe the catastrophic upheaval that breaks out, the Inquisitors all crashing to the ground as something gargantuan strikes the earth outside. The sound of it is a phenomenon all of its own, the groaning of the earth so loud that it rattles your (her) teeth, so loud that you can’t even hear the Inquisitors screaming or the screeching of trees being uprooted and structures collapsing, though you //can// sense it, even through your captor’s shattered eardrums.

Before you even have time to wonder what’s going on, the windows explode violently, obliterated by nothing more than the onrushing of air being forced out of a massive space, the wooden pews splintering apart while the door twists in on itself and snaps in half.

Staring at the sky through the smashed circular frame that once held the stained-glass window, your heart begins to beat madly in your chest as a shadow as deep and broad as night itself falls over the church, though not before you manage to spot one single colour–a pearly, iridescent blue.

//Heluur//…

Your mind can barely process what it’s seeing as the church is abruptly ripped in half, a coil of snake tail so large that it could comfortably fit everyone you’ve ever met in your entire life standing on it sweeping the roof and rafters from the crumbling walls like foam before a wave. The monumental scales glitter ferociously in the sudden light as he pulls back, the sound of his impossibly large muscles thundering in the air above you like a mountain moving.

The air screams under the pressure as his tail completes its circuit and the tip comes up over the now-ruined church like a cracking whip, generating a sonic boom so loud and strong that it flattens what remains of the walls into the ground, crushing the Inquisitors below it.

You think this is probably the only time you’ve ever actually seen the //tip// of his tail.

And then suddenly Malkorath is there, though you can’t even imagine how they’re able to move around normally in these circumstances. They rip the manacles loose from the altar and then turn their face upwards, looking no more disgruntled than they might on any other ordinary day.

“Will you get out of here before the gods show up and start a bloody war already?”

#damnation spoilers #snek big....#RO: heluur #RO: malkorath #cw blood

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lusty-kopfkino · 2 months

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Spider-Man Prompt 4 - The Spider in Spider-Man

Spider-Man acts way more like a spider than people think.

*I just love the idea of Spider-Man acting more spidery.

I can see him with all or some: fangs, venom, likes dark places, likes being on walls, real webs, spins webs, kills tiny animals, etc.

I've seen people make Peter friends with spiders, and that's cute and all, but I feel like it doesn't fit with spiders; they are loners. (20 out of 50,000 live in colonies) Peter was bitten by the Araneus Oscorpeus, which is a fictional species. I read somewhere that it is a genus of the orb-weaving spiders. They have venom and make "spiral wheel-shaped webs," so that can be what type of webs he is most likely to make, and these spiders are "beneficial to the ecosystem and help control insect populations." I feel like that fits so well into his character; maybe he not only wants to save people because of Ben but also because of his spider instincts.

*PS I got lots of that info from Google, so if it's wrong blame Google (even if it is wrong, this is fiction anything goes)

I see some people make Peter the same level as other spiders(to develop a connection or something?) They probably don't do it intentionally. It always felt wrong to me; I don't like it(but if I want to read a cute story of Peter being friends with spiders it's okay with me; I'll read it).

Spiders are predators, but they are so small that it isn't that important/scary to us; if you made them human-sized, that would be scary. I imagine it to be a lot like cats and pretty much any of the other feline species. I would pet a cat and want to pet a lion, but no way in hell am I going to even get close to a lion.

So I would like to imagine that any living thing that is smaller than Peter gets an instinctual sense of danger when he is really hungry or fighting someone like Spider-Man. Even humans because spiders have eaten other spiders, so maybe anything smaller or equal in size to him.

Ok so anyway, I saw somewhere that if a forest suddenly goes quiet it means a predator is around, so if Peter goes in one the same thing happens. I would like to think that he is banned from going on any stealth missions that have lots of wildlife; not because he is bad at stealth, quite the opposite in fact, but because it would be too obvious when suddenly all the bugs and birds stop making noise.

He would also have really good scary killing intent(based on scariness) so he is really scary when he is mad. If one day he is in a bad mode, which is rare for him, let's just say the bad guys will be in for a bad time(not because of the beating they will get but because of how scared they will be)

I encourage you to look at more things that spiders have/do so you can add it to Spider-Man's character.

#spiderman #peter parker #fic ideas #fic prompt

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r0-boat · 2 years

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Oo requests are open? How about something from the early days in beemas au, either them encountering you for the first time, or keeping you while the old queen is still around?

ooh~

These are just my head cannons about the start of the gear station I tried to leave things really open-ended so other people can make their own little backstory but if you want my take on the story here it is:

I really like the same world as zero is where it's set in a post-apocalyptic universe where insect hybrids are now at the top of the animal food chain and humans are more rare hiding in either small tiny settlements or barricaded cities,

Whether you're living on your own or living in a giant settlement or sitting they find you exploring out in the Wild

Many of the leaders or Elders urge people to stay away from insect hybrids but you were more open-minded.

At this time the twins are merely drones known by being the more troublesome very disobedient to Queens orders and pretty much not doing their Duty. Instead of gathering Stone material for Queen statue number 1,000 they explore farther out from the hive,

Ingo urges his brother that they shouldn't stay too far.

Emmet doesn't care. The hive doesn't really pay attention to them anyway labeling them as troublemakers and ignoring them.

How they meet is generally up to you whether it's a bad meeting or a pleasant one.

They mark this special little clearing as the daily meeting spot. To Emmet and Ingo they've heard rumors about humans but has never seen one you were the same way with insect hybrids.

You learn more and more about one another about old cultures of humankind bringing various human items and telling stories about Humanities past accomplishments. The twins are fascinated by listening to everything. They do the same telling you about holidays and their hives customs. Bringing you food they may or may not have stolen from the queen for you to try.

You wanted to see their hive settlement and who are they to say no.

Well you can't actually get in or close to the hive since the queen has an absolute disdain for humans. So trying to sneak past guards and drones as they make way through the rubble remains of once was a city or town

But you do get close enough to see the main building.

Back at the meeting spot your eyes light up at the fact that their home is in a subway station.

The twins are confused since they never heard of such a thing before.

The next day you come back with books and pictures of subway stations and trains and they were transfixed... something that can go faster than the beat of a bee's Wings is something unheard of to them yet here it wass in front of them.

And these metal boxes travel fast across a wide area carrying tons and tons of people.

"You... Want more?"

Both twins with a pleading puppy dog look in their eyes nod.

And who are you to deny them.

This lasts for a few months or so the three of you getting closer sharing things about yourself and facts about trains.

But they're unusual change in behavior and uh dialect doesn't go unnoticed.

#ro.chatting #beegearstation #LLOOORREEE #submas

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xxlady-lunaxx · 8 months

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I'll protect you! | ShinoMitsu

Theme: Fluff

(Side note: they're already dating 😀)

"SHINOBU-SAN!!" Mitsuri squealed, running over to the Insect Hashira. She tackled her with a hug then straightened up and said, "Can we eat lunch together today? We haven't been able to hang out much." She pouted.

Shinobu laughed. "Sure, why not? Where?"

"Can we do it in the garden at your house? It's always so pretty~!" Mitsuri said enthusiastically.

"Yeah, okay! Me and Kanao just planted a new patch of flowers in the corner! You know the side that had been empty, still?" Shinobu replied happily.

"Mhm! I can't wait to see them, you and Kanao are so good at making them bloom beautifully!" the taller one commented, taking Shinobu's hand. "Do you want to eat now or wait till noon?" she asked, smiling.

"What about noon? We can walk around a little first?"

"Yess." Mitsuri nodded quickly.

"Alright!"

The two walked hand in hand, stealing occasional kisses when nobody was there. They talked the whole way, or, mostly Mitsuri talked, and they took their time to get to Shinobu's house, taking the longer ways. By the time they got there, the sun was above their heads and the two went inside to cool down a little.

"Hi, Aoi!" Mitsuri said, running over to the butterfly girl. "I haven't seen you in a little!"

"Yes, hello," Aoi nodded, give her a slight bow. "Welcome home, Shinobu-San!" She turned to the other Hashira. "Would you like me to make you two lunch?"

"No, it's okay, I have mine!" Mitsuri said.

Shinobu shook her head. "I can take some of the leftovers, it's okay. But thank you, Aoi!"

"No, no, it won't take too long, I promise! I'll make you some-" Aoi started. Shinobu cut her off. "We don't want to over-work you, so it's okay. Alright?"

"But-"

"No, it's okay. You go rest. Is Kanao here?"

"Yes, she's over in the training room. Why?" Aoi asked, giving up.

"Why don't you go watch her? Bring her and yourself a cup of tea, or something, and tell her to rest. You two are still growing, after all. You need rest just as much as you need everything else!" Shinobu advised.

Mitsuri giggled. "Are you still growing, Shinobu-Chan?" She patted the shorter one's head. "Or are you going to stay tiny forever?"

Shinobu rolled her eyes and pushed Mitsuri away playfully. "Shush, I will grow more!! And besides, it's not all about height.."

"Sure, okay," Mitsuri laughed, taking her hand. "Bye, Aoi! See you later!" she called out, as she ran towards the backyard, dragging Shinobu with her.

"Bye-" Aoi said, watching the two. They were cute with each other. Shinobu always seemed actually happy around Mitsuri.

The two Hashira wandered out into the backyard and sat down under the shade. They took their time to settle down, and Mitsuri pointed out the new flowers Shinobu had mentioned earlier.

"They're so pretty! What kinds are they?" she asked, inspecting the flowers closely.

"There's a wide variety of them, actually. But since we planted the ones with similar colors and shapes, they look to be the same kinds!" Shinobu said, smiling. She explained which were which and how to identify them, and Mitsuri listened closely. She was surprised at how much Shinobu knew about all this. Of course, she knew that the Insect Hashira would know a lot about plants, due to her using poison to kill demons, but this was a lot and she was very impressed.

"That's awesome," Mitsuri said, after Shinobu had finished explaining. "I wish I knew this much about something! It would be so nice to teach somebody."

Shinobu smiled. "Yes, It is. But you already know a lot about several things, which is great as well! Exceeding in one subject but not the rest won't help you all that much, but if you do good in all that will help you very much! It's nice to have a specialty, but it's not all about that."

"Mhm! You're so smart, Shinobu-San."

"Thank you."

The two took out the food they had brought and sat back down on the bench, eating quietly. Eventually Mitsuri said, "Shinobu? Can I tell you something?"

"Of course. Anything."

"You know.. how our kind of.. our kind of relationship isn't quite supported here yet?" Mitsuri asked nervously.

"Yes..?" Shinobu said, putting down her food. "Has.. has anybody hurt you because of it?"

"No no- Well.. yes, but it's oka-"

Shinobu pressed a finger to Mitsuri's lips and shook her head. "It's not okay. Tell me who did it."

"It was.. well.. one of the Kakushi. I was telling Rengoku-San about us because he asked, and a Kakushi was there as well. I had been getting Rengoku-San to get checked up and the Kakushi were cleaning up around there. So, one of them overheard me and told me I was bewitched and crazy. I said I wasn't, and Rengoku-San also defended me. But the Kakushi kept going on and somehow, I don't remember, and don't want to, he ended up trying to punch me. He never actually landed a hit but still.." Mitsuri explained.

Shinobu glared at the ground as she listened, and when the story ended she didn't look up for another minute before she sighed. "Oh, Mitsuri.. when did this happen?" she asked.

"Two days ago. But that wasn't the only time people have been like that.." Mitsuri mumbled.

"..oh. Who. I need names and addresses. Oh, and what they did or said, how they did, for how long, if there were any witnesses, if yes then who, and-" Shinobu rambled on.

"Shinobu-San, it's okay. Has anybody done this to you?" Mitsuri asked, cutting her off.

"It's not okay!! And no, interestingly."

"Probably because they're intimidated by you!" Mitsuri giggled, hugging her girlfriend.

"And you were just calling me short!" Shinobu rolled her eyes, but she smiled all the same.

"Yeah well.. you can be short, intimidating, and pretty all at the same time!!" Mitsuri insisted, patting Shinobu's head.

"Stop calling me shor- Hey, did you just say I'm pretty?" the ravenette asked, grinning.

"Oh- Uh- Uh.. yes.." Mitsuri stuttered, flushing. "I meant, uhm.. cute! You're cute! No- I meant, I meant you're beautiful. No.. wait.. I meant uhm.. nevemind.."

Shinobu laughed. "Sure, okay. Thank you! You're stunning always, though. Everywhere and anywhere," she said, kissing Mitsuri's nose.

"Now, back to topic. Can I have their names?" Shinobu asked, taking out a notepad from nowhere.

"Uhm.. what're you going to do to them?"

"Don't worry! It's not going to kill them," Shinobu reassured her, which only gave the opposite effect.

"Don't hurt anyone!"

"Don't worry, I'll protect you!"

"Shinobu-San, it's okay, I swear-"

"No, you mustn't let them do this. Now, please state their names?" Shinobu repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Mitsuri laughed and sighed at the same time. "Oh Shinobu-San.. I won't get out of this, hm..? Fine.."

{Word count: 1111}

:3 this was a req from a lovely personn >:D

honestly i have no idea where this was supposed to be going or where it went so sorry 😃maybe i'll fix it in like 3029

(i originally posted this on wattpad help)

#shinobu x mitsuri #kny #fluff #gxg

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