#on the right: lucinda what the fuck

[dol--blathanna]

Lucinda what is this......Lucinda you could have at least used OWL FEATHERS..........

#i thought we couldn't get any worse than the H&M fits and Yen's boring thanedd dress......and lucinda proved me wrong....... #i am almost impressed. every time i think it can't get worse she outdoes herself #to quote my good friend kat you've gotta hand it to her! (said with morbid fascination) #i just.....lucinda......why......why do you hate me........ #this duo really does illustrate lucinda's costume designing skills if u think about it #on the left: this is just emhyr from TW3. lucinda you didn't even try #on the right: lucinda what the fuck #anti twn #anti witcher netflix #twn critical #twn critique

[newtonsheffield]

I like to think Hyacinth uses everyone being distracted by Lucy's pregnancy to sneak around with Gareth.

One of my favourite scenes in OTWTTW, is when Hyacinth beats some lord with her purse during the failed wedding.

I would love to see a scene where Hyacinth defender her brother to Lucie's shitty family. "Only I get to talk to him like that!" Then tears a strip off them.

Oh I think Hyacinth thinks it’s ludicrous that Gregory’s going to be a dad a few months after he turns 19, but she’s also not going to let Lucy’s Uncle berate him.

So when Lucy’s uncle sees them out, Gregory gasping delightedly when he sees a Star Wars onesie, Hyacinth needs to step in.

“Luce! Look! A little Yoda! We should get this for the baby!”

“And what if we’re having a girl?” Lucy chuckled, adjusting his cap for him.

Gregory scoffed, “Star wars isn’t gendered, Loo. She’ll look cute as hell, right Hy?”

Hyacinth rolled her eyes, “Look… I hope she takes after Lucy. Then she just might be.”

Gregory flicked her ear. “Rude. You’re not allowed to hold my baby.”

“Lucinda!” A voice thundered through the store sharply and a man stormed over, his face furious. “Is this him then?!”

Lucy froze,swallowing convulsively, “This is Gregory.”

Gregory smiled putting out his hand, “Gregory Bridgerton. Very pleased to meet you, Sir.”

The man tutted, “Lucinda, he’s a child. He’s not responsible enough to-”

“I’ve got a job working with my brother, I’m a tennis pro right now and I’m-”

“A tennis pro?! Lucinda, he’s-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Hyacinth snapped, stepping forward. “Gregory’s trying his best in a tricky situation, but he’ll be a great Dad. He loves Lucy, he loves the baby and that’s what matters. Shut the fuck up.”

Unfortunately, Uncle Robert was not put in his place.

#wimbledon au #gregory x lucy #gregory bridgerton #lucy abernathy #hyacinth bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

[extrastranszanepropaganda]

out of curiosity, how old is nana going to be in your rewrite?

Thanks so much for the question!! Since I'm leaning more into her being a magicks user/witch I'm also giving her the whole longer lifespan kind of thing. The plane right now is that she's about Lucinda's age (i.e. probably 94/95) though that would make her in her late twenties physically!

I actually have a lot of plans for Nana in my rewrite!! I feel like she deserves to 'go crazy go stupid', so I've decided that she in fact used to be a tad bit evil in her younger years

As a treat 😌

Like, in her hay day she was a genuine terror. Canonically, Nana has the ability to control objects and bring them to life. So what's stopping her from doing that to deceased humans? (⁠´⁠∩⁠｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡⁠∩⁠`⁠)⁠ 

In my mind, she was doing this all until one day she suddenly disappeared and made a new life for herself, now when she's referring to it it's very "OMG I was crAAAzzyyyyy back in my twenties haha!!!" To which everyone is like "Sureeee Nana okay 🙄/lh" Not many of them were around or alive at that time, and no one really believes it if they do hear about it. It's very "Come on! This is Nana we're talking about! Cookies, cupcakes, and bandaging kids knees are what she does in her free time! You really shouldn't believe everything people tell you!"

Not Lucinda though.

Lucinda remembers cause she was on the front lines. She was her first crush rival. So once they see each other after about 70 years

Lucinda freaks the fuck out and starts screaming

Nobody believes her

Nana is making this face the whole time

Old lady yuri ensues.

#aphblr #aphmau #mcd #minecraft diaries #mcd rewrite #aphmau mcd #diares rewrite #nana ashida #nana mcd #kawaii chan #kawaii chan mcd #asks

[laurancezvahlslefteyebrow]

Y’all wanna hear something fucked up abt my mcd rewrite? Of course you do!

First I wanna start this off by explaining that dreams are very important in my rewrite. Dreams are somewhat prophetic, depending on the person and the context.

For example, relic holders, specifically descendants or reincarnates of the divine warriors especially experienced these prophetic type of dreams. These dreams are usually memories of the divine, or even messages from them to their current… replacement..

For some, these dreams only start after they’ve acquired their relic, like for Garroth and Menphia’s relic holder (trying to decide if I’d rather it be Katelyn or Lucinda). For some, the dreams only get more detailed, clear and frequent after acquiring their relic, like for Aphmau. And for some, the dreams begin even before acquiring their relic, like for Travis, Eseryt, Aaron, and Laurance. (I’m counting Laury even tho Xavier didn’t technically have a relic, not getting into that right now but i will at some point)

Well anyway, ever since Eseryt was a small child, she’s been having the same vivid dream, constantly on the last of the month. It started when she was 5, after being taken the Barton, and they ended when she was 18, after leaving Barton. She’d awaken in the dead of the night, someone calling to her, luring her away with the same gentle yet monotone voice. They’d call her up the mountains that surrounded Barton. She’d climb them half awake half asleep, following footprints in the snow to the same spot each time. A small crater in the ground. There she’d find a woman. She was shattered, unraveling, trying desperately to pull herself back together. She’d mutter to Es, begging for her to help. Eseryt wouldn’t go near her, she was too afraid. Then, the woman would scream and Es would wake up in her bed in next morning, covered in snow.

It was like this until she turned 18. The next time she found herself with the Woman who begged, something in her told her to finally help. She stepped closer, reaching out her hand, and when she touched the woman’s face, her body was suddenly pulled back together and she was whole. The woman then grabbed Eseryt’s wrist and looked her in the face. Eseryt noted her scarred over eye. The one eyed woman whispered “Find her.” and disappeared. Eseryt woke in her doorway this time, a single dagger in her hand.

Ok time to explain all that!!

The woman Eseryt has been seeing is Kul’Zak. Yes, in my rewrite Kul’Zak is a woman and Eseryt is her incarnation.

Her “Find her” is the reason Eseryt left Barton in the first place. For the next few months after that night, she’d wake in the middle of the night to whispers of “find her”. She had to know what it meant.

The “her” Kul’Zak tells Eseryt to find is Aphmau, and it’s reason the forest leads her to Phoenix Drop. Eseryt, however, always assumed the “her” was her sister Cadenza. However, Cadenza being in Phoenix Drop at the time Eseryr just happened to arrive but purely by chance. Probably.

Now, why was Kul’Zak shattered and why couldn’t she fix herself? Well, here’s where it gets fucked up!

In order for Irene to shatter Shad and seal him in the Nether, she needed to use the life force of her fellow Divine Warriors. She couldn’t sacrifice herself otherwise the spell wouldn’t last. Only thing is, she didn’t tell the others that sealing him away would kill them. She especially didn’t tell them it would quite literally rip them apart where they stood.

I should mention that the Divien Warrior’s mortality works slightly differently in my rewrite than it does in canon. I’ll make a separate post about that later :)

#aphmau #minecraft diaries #aphmau fandom #i don’t support aphmau #mcd #minecraft diaries aphmau #mcd aphmau #aphmau mcyt #mcyt #aphblr #aphverse #aphmau au #aphmau rewrite #mcd au #mcd rewrite #minecraft diaries rewrite #mcyt au #aphmau fanfic #aphmau oc #mcd oc #original character #divine warriors #lady irene #irene the matron #shad the destroyer #kul’zak the wanderer

[peakyscillian]

Bend The Rules | Mini - Series | Part One.

Summary: Cillian is unhappily married, to someone who doesn’t care about him, surely he can bend the rules? Warnings: Cheating, drama & smut. Pairing: Cillian x Fem!Reader Part: 1/? Requested: No A/N: I know its hard to imagine Cillian cheating but this is complete fiction and his family is made up.

Bend The Rules | Mini - Series

Part One

Part One

Spotting his name on your schedule for the first four hours of your day, wasn't what you needed after seven days working in a row.

You had got to know Cillian really well over the first two series of Peaky Blinders, being his wardrobe assistant you spent alot of time, fitting him, dressing him and hanging around off set when he was working, it also meant a lot of your time together was in the close quarters of the wardbrobe truck.

The past two months back on set for series 3 had been different, he was always in some kind of mood, always snapping or giving you the silent treatment.

Constantly glued to his phone which was unlike him, you knew he was married, unhappily married if the gossip was anything to go by.

His bad moods were making your work days less than enjoyable, you had warned Lucinda if he dared snap at you again you were refusing to work with him, Lucinda had rolled her eyes and handed you the keys to the storage closet without another word.

You were sending off emails, answering messages when the light tap on the wall next to your desk disturbed you.

You dragged your eyes from yet another email from Lucinda trying to rope you into a few other jobs in any spare time you had.

"Down for fittings today, for the party scene" Cillian was stood hands shoved into his jean pockets, beanie on his head he looked drained.

You stood up, straightening out your skirt "Hi, oh y/n how are you today?" you laughed lightly at his bluntness.

"Oh fucking grand, its like that is it?" He rolled his eyes, you threw him a glare, putting your paperwork away grabbing your ipad to take down your notes.

"You have the attitude Murphy, not me" you shrugged opening the fitting room door, "Right" he sighed following you, eyes taking in your body from behind, the loose cropped black tshirt, the figure hugging satin skirt and chunky boots.

-

Cillian was stood in a tight shirt and just his underwear, you'd been overly professional while he dressed and undressed in the small room, with you trying to distract yourself from checking him out.

"Look I am sorry about that" he spoke up as you fixed the bow tie around his neck, he was intently watching you. You stepped back helping him into the suit jacket, you were waiting for an intern to return with the correct suit trousers. "It's fine, it's been a long week" you shrugged as the door opened, you politely thanked the intern taking the trousers, handing them over. "Yeah it has, you got anytime off?" he commented, fastening the trousers, you nodded "This weekend, have you? you look drained" Cillian frowned, staying silent as you took measurements and pictures, watching as you moved around the room.

"The weekend as well, thanks for the compliment" he finally spoke, you shrugged tapping on the iPad. "Look I'm probably being stupid, but I thought we were friends? You've been horrible to work with since filming started" you handed him back the clothes he had come in. Cillian sighed taking them from you "We were, are friends, just a lot going on outside of here that I don't want to share with you, I'm sorry okay?"

"Just get some rest Cill" you headed for the door, turning before you left "just leave the clothes here, I can tidy them up" You didn't look up from your desk as Cillian walked past to head to his next meeting, you had a whole list of cast to see today you didn't need him distracting you.

- You had been sat in the restuarant for nearly an hour, you were sure you'd been stood up, but you were trying your hardest to give Dean the chance to show up once again.

You were watching the door for your blonde haired date. You let out a small groan as you watched the door open, someone you would rather not be near entered, Cillian with some of the other cast.

Fuck sake how embarrasing you were sat alone, on your first night off in weeks, stood up.

They were being seated two tables away, Cillian caught your eye, giving you a nod, you smiled slightly, picking up your wine glass downing the sour red liquid.

Forty five minutes later you were asking for the bill to pay for your four wines, Dean no where to be seen. You slipped on your coat, it had suddenly turned cold in the evenings.

You left the restuarant head down so you didnt make any more eye contact with Cillian.

- You were stood outside, bag under your arm as you tried your hardest to light a cigarette, you sighed when it didn't work for the third time.

"Here let me" Cillian's unmistakeable voice floated over you, he lit your cigarette with a smile. You brushed away a few stray tears "Fuck sorry no idea why im crying" you laughed lightly.

Cillian had lit his own cigarette "Not a nice guy to stand you up like that", You shrugged "He always does"

Cillian laughed slightly frowning at you "Why do you give him the chance too?" You had downed enough wine that evening to tell the truth, you looked Cillian dead in the eyes "He's a good fuck"

You watched as Cillian inhaled sharply "Fair enough, but you definitely deserve better" he dropped his cigarette on the floor stubbing it out.

"Oh yeah? whos going to give me that then? You?" you smirked giving your cigarette the same treatment.

"Well Im married so I don't think thats wise" he stated, watching as you stepped towards the pavement to hail a taxi.

"Wouldn't bother me" you shrugged, turning to look at him as a taxi pulled up "2A Belfort Road" you told him before you opened the door.

Then you slipped into the back of the taxi, eyes never leaving his through the window.

-

Taglist @cillmequick @gypsy-girl-08 @runnning-outof-time @look-at-the-soul @heidimoreton @queenshelby @being-worthy @missymurphy1985 @cloudofdisney @elenavampire21 @datewithgianni @magicalpieex @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @radioheadgirl @vhscillian @alreadybroken-ts @anotherhitandrun @inkandpen22 @pocket-of-possibilities @lovemissyhoneybee @ysmmsy @otterly-fey @peaky-cillian @lyarr24 @blyanyan @thomasshelbee @seleneshelby @forgottenpeakywriter @allie131313 @flyingjosephine-blog @camilleholland89 @chrisevansangel @lostgirl219 @zablife @lespendy @gotohellandbackforyou @moral-terpitude @midnightmagpiemama

#Cillian Murphy #Cillian x Fem!Reader #Cillian x Y/N #Cillian Series #My writing #Peakyscillian Updates #Masterlist #Taglist #Cillian Requests Open #New Series #Mini-Series

[imagine-darksiders]

Fish out of Water - Chapter 2

Giant Mer!Sunnydrop X Reader, Giant Mer!Moondrop X Reader.

Summary:

Tags, warnings: Mermay 2022, Giant Mermen, Amputee Reader, Amputation, Medical Trauma, Depression, Grief and Mourning, Ableism, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Minor Character Death, Car Accidents, G/T, Giant/Tiny, Explicit Language, Loss of Leg, Mental Health Issues

Story on ao3

------

It isn't until midnight that you make a phone call in the end, and even then, you forgo the police – they'd likely give you a warning for wasting their time. You don't call animal services either – because you highly doubt 'giant sea monsters' fall under the list of animals they're licensed to deal with. And the nearest emergency mental health unit, ironically, doesn't have a twenty-four hour helpline.

So it is that you find yourself wedged into the cramped space between the sofa and the wall, peeking over a cushion and keeping your eyes fixed vigilantly upon the front door with your phone pressed against an ear, worrying at a loose piece of skin dangling off your lip.

Six rings later.... “Ungh... Lucinda, speaking," a groggy voice picks up and mutters down the line.

“Aunt Lucy!” you whisper hoarsely, “Thank Christ – I – I need you to pick me up! Right now!” You wait impatiently with your breath stuck in your throat as the sound of rustling, silk sheets filters out of the phone's speaker.

“Y/n?” comes Lucy's voice again, half asleep and incredulous, “I... Oh, what time is it?”

In the background, you hear a man – Derek, you deduce – roll over and grumble, “Who is it, Luce?”

“It's Y/n, darling,” she whispers back before turning her attention to you again, “My dear girl, are you all right? You're calling at-” There's a pause as you assume she takes a second to check her watch. “- Gone twelve!? What on Earth is the matter?”

What on Earth indeed. You can't be sure those things were even from Earth. Regardless, pondering won't get you out of this cottage and away from the ocean any faster.

“Please,” you whisper, clutching the phone in two, quaking hands so harshly that the plastic creaks in protest, “Please I – I need to get out of here! Something... something happened, Aunty. There are these... these...!”

God, how the hell are you supposed to describe what you'd seen without sounding like a lunatic? “I don't know," you eventually settle on, "But you have to get me out of here!”

Lucy makes a sound of confusion as you crane your head out over the sofa again and eye the windows, searching for shapes moving around outside in the dark. “Damn things are in the bay outside Grandad's cottage! I-I thought they'd kill me! I still can't believe I got away-!”

“-Y/n, slow down, Darling! For god's sake, you're starting to sound hysterical.”

As is your goddamn right after everything that you've just been through!

Gulping down a pacifying breath, you crush a palm against your temple and through gritted teeth, you hiss, “I know. I know. It all sounds insane, but – please, I just need to get away from here-!”

“-But why?”

“God dammit, because of those fucking sea monsters, Lucy!” you snap much too curtly, though you can't find it in yourself to be embarrassed right now.

This time, there's a definite, pregnant pause before your aunt clears her throat and asks, “I beg your pardon, dear, but... what did you-?”

“-MONSTERS!” you cry squeakily, throwing your free hand up in exasperation, “Great big, fucking sea monsters! With-with tails, and – and tentacles and teeth! They, they-!”

A long, loud sigh stops your incessant babbling and you scowl at the sound of soft snickering, followed by a sharp, 'Hush!' from your aunt. Coughing politely, Lucy clicks her tongue and with the patience of a saint, she delicately asks, “Y/n, I'd like you to tell me honestly. Have you had anything to drink this evening?”

Hesitating, your eyes immediately jump towards the window facing the cliff's edge, where you've left several bottles of beer strewn about in the grass.

“I...I only had like... three beers,” you stress meekly, wetting your lips. You're in too much of a state to recognise that you should have just lied and said a plain and simple 'no.'

“Okay,” Lucy starts with another sigh, “Here's what I think you should do. I think you should get yourself to the kitchen, get a glass of water, some paracetamol, and hop straight into bed.”

“I don't need paracetamol, Aunty,” you stress through clenched teeth, “I need-”

Something above you creaks and you freeze in place, ducking your head behind the sofa and craning your neck back to eye the ceiling dubiously. When a further second or two pass without a repeat of the noise, you lick your lips and whisper, “I'm not drunk, Lucy, I-”

“- Of course not, darling,” she interrupts diplomatically, “But you are exhausted. And likely sleep-deprived, and this is the first moment of genuine peace you've had since your dear parents died, God rest their souls.”

For a full, five seconds, you can't quite fathom a thing to say. Eventually though, you blurt out, “I really don't think what I saw is a result of sleep deprivation! Or.. or delayed grief!”

“And how would you know?” she returns abruptly, as cool as a placid lake, “You never went to the therapist like you were advised to do. You took yourself out of the world. You turned the grief counsellors away from your door.”

She must be able to sense the indignant bristling of your shoulders because it sounds as though she thumps her head down on her pillow with a deep and affected sigh. “Look, I can hear how frustrated you are. But... Well, I mean, really, Y/n. Listen to what you're saying. You said you saw...” She trails off, deliberately leaving her sentence open-ended for you to finish.

A hand creeps up to your face and you spend several, sobering moments pinching the bridge of your nose before heaving an almighty groan, dragging your hand down over your nose and mouth, muttering, “Giant... sea monsters.”

Aunt Lucy's prolonged silence is fairly damning.

And okay, yes, you can appreciate that you're asking her to really stretch the boundaries of her imagination, but...

“Will you come and get me out of here, or not?” you finally ask, neither denying nor confirming that you may very well be losing your mind. Hell, you've lost your parents, your leg, your dignity and social standing. What's a mind, really, in the grand scheme of things?

There's a tired hum on the other end of the phone, and you already know her answer before she speaks.

“I just don't think that'll do you any good, my dear-”

Your eyes slip shut and you let your skull thunk back against the sofa behind you.

“- You haven't even given the old place a chance,” she adds, “Now, listen to me. You've had a hell of a shock. You're overwrought. Why, it's hardly any wonder you're-... ah.” She lowers her voice and clears her throat. “-Seeing things...”

It's a struggle to even passively listen to the second-hand embarrassment in her voice, though you can understand the root of it.

If word gets out that you're hallucinating giant sea monsters, it'll be yet another blight on the family name.

You'll become known as that seldom-mentioned relative who's shacked up in the 'wacko-basket.'

A cruel judgement, to be sure, but then, the people your parents rubbed elbows with are anything but sympathetic.

“I think,” Lucy continues carefully, “That you need to give it another few days. Go to bed and get some real rest. Breathe in that wonderful, ocean air. If you're still concerned about, hmm, monsters in a few day's time, I'll send Derek down to fetch you.”

In the background, the aforementioned lover groans begrudgingly, only to receive a quick 'ssh' from your aunt.

You hate to say it, but the longer she talks you down, the more doubt begins creeping into your mind and muddling the evening's events, blending reality with fiction and blurring your memory like good whisky.

You are extremely tired... and you've heard the stories of how sleep-deprivation can warp reality... plus, the beers likely didn't help...

Maybe a good night's sleep will fix things...

It's a lie you've told yourself countless times before. 'If I just got enough sleep...'

What a joke.

Regardless, Aunt Lucy is right. There has to be a more believable explanation than 'sea monsters.' You're an educated woman, for goodness sake

It's high-time you started behaving like one.

Slumping defeatedly against the sofa's rigid back, you cut off the muffled argument going on over the phone. “You're right, Aunty. You're right... God, sorry for bothering you so late.”

“Oh, think nothing of it, darling,” she replies, clipped and chipper once more, “You just get some sleep. Things will be all right in the morning. You'll see.”

“..Yeah.” Rubbing at your eyelids, you manage to suppress a yawn long enough to murmur a grateful, “Goodnight. Sorry again.”

“Goodnight, Y/n. Speak soon.”

Your finger hits the red button and there's the telltale 'click' of the line going dead.

Forget the water, forget the paracetamol, forget peeling off the day's clothes and turning off the light, you simply pull yourself around to the front of the sofa and flop face-first onto the squeaking, leather cushions, dragging one of them into your ams and squeezing it so ferociously, you can focus more on the ache in your biceps than whatever mysteries or hallucinations that might be lurking outside in the dark.

------

By the time you pry your head up off the sofa cushion again, it's gone noon the following day, and your mouth is as dry as a roll of parchment.

Shuffling lazily across the cold, tiled floor of the kitchenette, you yawn widely and rub at your eyes with a thumb and forefinger, sparing a brief glance out through the large, bow window that sits above the sink.

As is typical of the time of year, the sky is heavily overcast, and a steady pitter-patter of rain plinks softly against the glass windows. The sea beyond the cliffs is as dreary and grey as the clouds rolling overhead, its choppy waves sweeping in great, undulating swathes from the East. All in all, it's the kind of day that makes you want to burrow beneath your duvet with a mug of something hot and a good, engaging book..

But then... when was the last time you actually read a book?

All you're likely to do is lay on your bed and stare blankly at the ceiling, leaving the proverbial door wide open for your misery to creep in and swallow you slowly, sucking the energy out of you like a tick that will gorge itself on your most terrible regrets until the dreadful thing sits fat and swollen with grief astride your chest.

Dejectedly, your gaze slides away from the window and moves towards the front door, where an umbrella stand waits expectantly alongside its two occupants – one of your crutches, and an old doorman's umbrella, dusty and grey, much like the rest of this cottage's interior.

Perhaps you could go for a walk and get some fresh air.

'Sounds like something someone who has their life together would suggest,' you smile humourlessly to yourself, 'Someone like Aunt Lucy.'

It isn't as if you're especially keen to make an effort to shower, so maybe a stroll in the rain will clear away the cobwebs instead. Hefting your shoulders up and down in a private shrug, you amble towards the coat rack that takes up its stance beside the umbrella stand and tug a tattered, wax coat from one of the arms, pulling it on over yesterday's clothes. You don't know who it belonged to, nor how long it's been since anyone washed it. Maybe you'll throw it in the washing machine when you get back....

Then again, maybe you're more likely to toss it onto the pile of clothes that are slowly accumulating next to the washing machine, but that never quite make the journey inside the drum. Laundry is relatively low on your list of priorities, after all.

Stuffing your hands into the warm pockets, your fingers brush over a strip of smooth, cool plastic. Absentmindedly, you fish the object out and glance down at it, quirking your brow at a small penknife laying in your palm, a cheap and unimpressive little thing, the kind you'd probably win in a Christmas cracker.

Without any real humour, you quirk your lips up and snort. Grandpa was definitely a fisherman. This thing's only use is likely to cut the line if it gets irreparably tangled.

After sparing the little kitchenette a lazy once-over, you drop the penknife back inside your coat pocket and although your belly rumbles, you elect to grab a meal upon your return.

Pulling open the door, you wrench your crutch into one hand and stuff it beneath an arm, then swipe the umbrella up as an afterthought, just in case the downpour gets a little too heavy.

Perhaps, as Aunt Lucy said, the ocean air might do you some good.

But recently, you find yourself lacking in optimism.

--------

The winding cliffside path meanders and curves with the dreary landscape. You trudge along it, as aimless as any vagabond who ever wandered over the Earth. Nowhere to go, nowhere to aim for, nothing to do. One foot in front of the other, your head bowed against the wind and drizzling rain.

Down below you, out of sight, breakers crash ceaselessly against the cliff walls and it takes a considerable amount of willpower to keep yourself from peering cautiously over the edge, half expecting to see two pairs of gigantic, luminous eyes staring back up at you from within the water's murky depths.

Flipping up the collar of your wax coat, you duck your face further inside it and tear your gaze from the distant ocean with a shudder. You've barely taken two more, hobbling steps before a flash of yellow blips at the very edge of your vision.

You swing your head around fast enough to give yourself whiplash and very nearly end up tripping over your own feet to see...

… Nothing.

Nothing but a bleak, barren sea of grey lays out in front of you, and scanning the waves as they roll and crash in the current yields no results either.

Huh. “Still seeing things,” you inform yourself dismally.

It's slow progress, limping along the cliff path, but eventually, after another twenty minutes or so, you come upon a rusted, brown sign. The words have long since been eroded away by inclement weather and the unending march of time, but the image above them is unmistakeable.

There's a small, white arrow pointing left towards the edge of the cliff, and beside it, a simple graphic that depicts a flight of stairs.

Sure enough, upon glancing over at the cliffs, you spy the top of a metal railing jutting out above the grass right at the precipice.

Once upon a time, you wouldn't have even batted an eyelid at the prospect of attempting those steep, cliffside stairs.

Now though, you despise how your heart thuds anxiously in your chest and you can't stop yourself imagining your prosthetic slipping out from underneath you and sending you tumbling down the stairs to crash onto the sand far below.

Perhaps its defiance, perhaps its a blasé attitude towards danger that only emerged after the death of your family, but you suddenly find yourself pointing your shoes at the steps and hobbling over to them.

The biting wind whips cruelly at your face as you stop right at the edge of the cliffside staircase and peer down them. A wide, silver-sanded bay stretches out below you, hemmed in by sweeping cliffs on either side that protect it from the wind.

Conveniently, a silver, rain-slicked railing follows the path of the stairs, and it's with just a smidge of trepidation that you move your clutch and umbrella into the same hand and grip the rail tightly with the other.

The journey down is slow-going and undeniably as perilous as you'd expected it to be, but eventually, after a task that would hardly be considered arduous for someone with both of their legs intact, you find yourself down on the sandy beach, inhaling a lungful of sea-salted air and gazing around at the rolling dunes, each adorned with their spiky tufts of marram grass.

The tide has slowly begun to creep back in, eating up the beach inch by inch. But you, like the vast ocean, are in no particular hurry. You've still got time.

Wearily, you toss your crutch aside, exhale through your nose and flop yourself down onto the slope of a dune, letting your head thud backwards against the silver sand, heedless of the grains that'll no doubt be making themselves at home within the strands of your hair.

After letting rainwater plop steadily onto your closed eyelids for a time, you click your tongue and lean up to stuff the umbrella handle down into the sand, creating a rather unorthodox yet effective shelter from the rain, at least for your upper half.

Droplets patter softly on the canopy overhead and you finally, finally sink into yourself, letting your elbows and knees slump until they're flush with the ground.

You're tapped out - lost to the comforting brontide that grumbles moodily in the distance and the roiling waves sloshing up onto the beach.

You don't even notice a flash of silvery scales that slip noiselessly from a clump marram grass and weave down the sand dune towards you. A pair of eyes - red as the blood that pumps through its veins – lock onto the tantalising patch of warmth laying amongst a wasteland of cold sand and rock.

A forked tongue sneaks out from behind two, slender fangs and tastes the air.

The adder is still a bold young snake, not yet accustomed to the dangers or even the presence of humans. The source of heat in front of it shifts ever so slightly and the snake rears back at once, stilling in place and watching warily to see if there is to be any further movement.

When the mountain of warmth remains safely motionless, it slowly eases itself out of its tight coil and slinks a few inches nearer.

Wholly unaware of the serpent behind you, you think nothing of raising an arm to rub at your eyes, only to jump out of your skin when something issues a vicious, threatening hiss at your back.

Rolling over onto your side, your gaze lands unexpectedly upon a pair of red eyes and you go utterly still, trapping the breath inside your lungs lest the slightest expansion of a chest provoke the serpent currently staring you down.

And then, all at once, the adder pauses, and looks up, it's knife-like focus drawn by something above you.

The snake recoils with another hiss and your head snaps around at a sudden cacophony of splashing that comes from the waves, much, much too loud to be just another breaker crashing upon the shore.

You hurtle up onto your elbows at once and very nearly jab out an eye with one of the umbrella's prongs. But the sight you witness gallumphing towards you from the ocean surf and up onto the beach makes a poke in the eye or a snake bite seem the least of your worries.

It's like watching a terrifying sunrise in fast-forward.

There's a face – a terrible, familiar face that you've only just convinced yourself can't possibly exist.

The sea monster from yesterday's hallucination... One of them anyway. The first, exuberant one is dragging itself up the beach towards you in great, unsteady gallops, heaving its body along on colossal arms that kick up a maelstrom of sand as they go.

There's no time to get yourself up and run, the creature is upon you in terrifying seconds.

With a scream, you throw yourself down onto your front and cover your head as the beast comes crashing to a stop almost on top of you.

Using its forward momentum, it brings a monolithic arm down from the sky and slams into the sand directly between you and the snake, like a hammer striking an anvil, and the resounding boom that shakes the ground underneath you smacks your heart straight up into your throat. That certainly hadn't felt like a figment of your imagination.

Raising your head at the collision, you peek up at the wall of bristling, scaly flesh that keeps you separated from the adder. All around you, the world grows inexorably darker, whereas in contrast, your own face turns ashen as the leviathan's torso curls itself over you until its vast throat nearly presses down on top of your head, forcing you to flatten yourself against the sand on your belly for fear of being squashed.

And then, it growls.

You've been inside a thunderstorm before. Actually inside a thunderstorm during a trip up north to the mountains... When that thunder rolled, the sound wasn't above you, it was beside you, all over you, swallowing you in a deafening roar that rattled your bones and shook out your ear drums.

You're immediately reminded of that harrowing experience when the beast's growl rolls over you now, passing overhead like an earthquake through an immense throat and exploding from between its baleen teeth so loudly, you have to clap your palms over your ears and screw your face up, letting out a comparatively pathetic bleat of alarm.

But through the cacophony and chaos, through the terror of having this growling, snarling beast bearing over you like a mountain, one though sticks to your mind like the sand sticks to your rain-soaked clothes.

When the snake raise its head and reared back, you came to an awful realisation. It hadn't been looking at you. It had been looking at the creature hurtling towards it.

And if the snake had seen and reacted to the sea monster, then that means....

“Oh god,” you whimper, twisting your head over one shoulder to peer up at the quivering frills sticking out of the beast's neck above you, “You're real!”

If this thing is real, then right now, you're in real trouble.

Heaving yourself up onto shaking elbows, you whip your head sideways, seeking out even a glimpse of daylight. You find it instantly, there beneath the monster's shoulder, you can see the open beach.

You only have a tiny window of opportunity...

The umbrella and crutch lay somewhere behind you, and in a moment of desperation, you begin shuffling around on your belly until you're facing the gap and throw out an arm, wrapping trembling fingers around the first thing they come into contact with and dragging it along with you as you crawl on your stomach out from underneath the beast's shadow.

Hitting the open sand, you let a fleeting burst of relief slug you in the chest when you realise you've grabbed the crutch. You can't imagine you'll be able to get very far at all without it.

Adrenaline fizzes through your brain as you shove yourself upright and make a mad scramble onto your feet, tears springing to your eyes when your scarred thigh hums in protest. Biting down on your tongue to distract yourself from the agony in your leg, you begin to limp as best you can away from the behemoth at your back.

You'll have to circle around to the stairs when you can, but for now, you're far more preoccupied with putting as much distance between you and that thing as possible.

The uneven beach leaves you stumbling with every other step, but you still haul the crutch out ahead of you and use it to propel yourself as swiftly as you can towards the cliff walls, but before you can even make it halfway there, the growling, spitting creature falls eerily silent....

But not for long.

The quiet is broken almost right away by a sharp, urgent trill.

“Fuck!” you choke through gritted teeth, unable to resist risking a glance over your shoulder.

Ah. Perhaps it was foolish to look.

Silver scales slip away to safety over a sand dune and your stomach bottoms out as you catch sight of the real threat, its head now raised in your direction and its white, bulbous eyes fixed unblinkingly upon you.

Within the span of another second, you see it shift, and that's all the incentive you need to unleash a frantic shriek and whirl around to face the cliffs once more. The stairs are out – too far away – the creature is sure to cut you off before you can even get close.

Perhaps though... perhaps there's the slightest chance... somewhere in these old cliffs...

There!

Set within the crumbling rock like a narrow maw, you spy a hollow, naturally formed by thousands of years of erosion from the sea and the wind. God, you hope it's large enough.

All you can think to do is lurch unevenly towards it as the ground beneath your feet begins to shudder with the swift approach of something massive.

“Come on,” you urge yourself between ragged breaths, “Come on!”

The hollow draws gradually nearer, at the agonising pace of a glacier, but the sea monster?

You're only ten feet from the entrance.

A tremulous croon beats at the air around your head...

Five, shambling feet.

A blast of heat from rancid breath licks at the nape of your neck.

With a last, desperate cry, you throw yourself and your crutch through the gap in the cliff walls and tumble forwards into a pool of icy water that had been left behind by the sea.

Shocking cold bites at your skin and you let out a shrill gasp, yet you waste no more time in scrabbling forwards, deeper into the tiny cave, and not a moment too soon.

With meagre seconds to spare, the beast careens to a stop just in front of the entrance you'd disappeared into, causing the walls of the cave to shift and shiver from the force of a titan colliding with them.

Whipping around onto your rear, you shove yourself backwards, splashing through the rock pool until your spine hits the furthest, damp wall, and there, your escape comes to a grinding halt, gulping down desperate lungfuls of air in a cold, dark hole.

Your gaze lifts belatedly to the entrance of the hollow and meets the huge, white eye of the sea monster outside.

Startled, you yelp again and the eye retreats all at once, giving you a better view of the beast's face. It cocks its head to the side, squinting an eye halfway shut as it inspects your hiding place for a moment, then, to your utmost dismay, it brings one of its webbed hands up to the entrance.

“Go AWAY!” you shout at it, drawing your knees up against your chest as two, slender fingers worm their way through the gap and enter the cave with you, probing around near your shoes and splashing in the water, seeking you out.

The creature outside whines and its fingertips come close, far too close for your liking, mere inches from finding you in the darkness. Miraculously however, they don't seem capable of venturing any further inside. Grunting in what you can only imagine is frustration, the beast slowly withdraws its hand, only to replace it immediately with the opposite appendage.

Fortunately for you, the same outcome occurs.

The cave's entrance was barely narrow enough to allow you passage, far too small for any more than two of a leviathan's fingers to reach in and scrabble about uselessly for you.

You don't let yourself relax at this revelation though, and you likely won't until you're back in your familiar, land-locked city without a coastline in sight.

Cold, wet and trapped, you're forced to keep yourself pressed up against the wall behind you for what you hope doesn't turn out to be hours.

Surely it'll lose interest once it realises it can't reach you.

Surely to god...

Please.

"Leave me alone...” you croak hoarsely, burying your head in your knees and feeling the dread of hopelessness eat away at your empty stomach.

It's difficult to have to come to terms with a truth as enormous as the one waiting for you just outside this cave.

Eventually, as the sky outside starts to darken, the creature seems to finally realise that its efforts are in vain and that you won't be coaxed out by its warbles and dulcet hums. Whinging deeply in its throat, it pulls its fingers from the gap and replaces its hand with a soft, yellow snout, exhaling warmly into the hollow.

You flinch when the hot breath washes over you, easing your shivering, if only just a little.

“What do you want from me?” you hiccough weakly, hardly bothering to raise your head. As you expect, the beast only blows out one more, suffocating breath before it draws away and settles itself down on its front, facing the entrance, chin propped on folded arms.

You might have imagined it, but when it lets out a soft whuff into the sand, you could swear it sounds downright dejected.

You feel as if you've sat here for hours, shivering with cold and keeping your eyes shifting periodically between the darkness of your knees, the colossus stretched out across the beach outside and the distant seashore that drifts closer and closer with each passing hour.

The tide is steadily coming in.

You're running out of time.

And still, the beast lingers.

Once or twice, you're slapped with a sense of false hope when it suddenly heaves itself up and disappears from view, but just as you start working up the courage to creep forwards and take peek outside, you immediately retreat back to the far wall when the beast reappears from the sea, each time carrying a new 'gift' in its grinning maw.

One by one, they're inexplicably dropped in front of the entrance to your hidey-hole. First comes a series of pretty scallop shells, then an entire bucket's-worth of samphire, followed by three unfortunate mackerel, and most recently, a rusty, European number plate.

You can only watch on in befuddled disbelief as the beast uses the very tips of its fingers to push its treasures inside the cave before it pulls away and lets its chin drop to the sand again, warbling at you expectantly.

It has to be perhaps the worst attempt at luring prey from its hole that you've ever seen.

You certainly won't be budging any time soon, not for love nor money.

The cold has seeped well into your bones by the time the sea reaches the cave's entrance, sloshing against the cliff walls and creeping steadily higher.

A sneeze begins tickling at the back of your nose and before you can stop yourself, you're lurching forwards and belting out an explosive, “ACHOO!”

Outside, the sea monster gives a sudden start, raising its head and flicking its rays towards you inquisitively.

Swiping at your nose, you give it a weary glare and sniffle, “What're you looking at?”

In response, it cocks its head to one side and its chest expands with an enormous lungful of air, deflating again in a rumbling croon.

Clicking your tongue, you merely avert your eyes in response and take to rubbing vigorously at your arms in the hopes that friction will instil a little warmth into your paper-thin flesh. The old, wax coat provides some respite, but it was meant to keep the rain off your back, not to keep you warm as you hunker down for hours inside a bitterly cold rock pool.

Something shifts outside, and you shoot a glare up to the monster, seeing its large, blank eye pressed to the gap again, zeroing in on you.

“Ugh,” you scoff wetly, “Why are you still here?” There's no real bite to your tone, only a marrow-deep exhaustion intermingled with tired resignation - a sad concoction to be sure.

You've finally begun to accept that this thing isn't going away any time soon.

And just like that, as if the Universe itself is dead-set on proving you wrong, the creature's eye snaps away from the entrance and it shoots up onto its elbows, glancing around, fins quivering so rapidly that they seem to blur at their edges.

Perturbed by the change of demeanour, you straighten up, hugging your knees closer to your chest.

With its eyes blown open wide, it heaves its bulk around to face the ocean opposite your little bolt-hole, and in doing so, it shifts to one side, allowing you to catch a glimpse of the crashing waves beyond.

“Oh no...” you whisper seconds later, brows pinched achingly across your forehead.

A colossal shadow rises out of the distant sea, blood-red pupils burning like twin suns on the brink of going supernova.

'Oh good,' you can't help but bitterly muse, 'Because of course the second creature would be real as well.'

With the yellow leviathan's back to you, you wonder if now is the only opportunity you'll get to beat a hasty retreat, weighing up the risks of drowning in here against potentially getting eaten if you dare to set foot outside.

Eyeing the newcomer warily, you don't expect to be given a sudden pause.

… Something's not right.

Despite having eight legs to haul itself along, the colossus is moving drunkenly, its head lolled to one side so that the fin atop its round skull hangs limply down to its shoulder. It makes its way up the beach at an unsteady tilt, aiming for its yellow counterpart, who has grown still and silent as a mountain.

The vast tentacles are sluggish in their attempts to drag the rest of the creature out of the briny depths, and upon a cursory glance at the foremost tendril, you can't help but notice that it, unlike the other seven, is being held aloft, out of the water, curled up against the creature's torso.

Uncertain, you scan over the limb, only to let out a tiny gasp when your gaze lands upon the enormous gillnet made of twine that's wrapped around and around the tentacle, keeping it trapped and bent in on itself at an angle that has to be awkward, even for such a muscular appendage.

In spite of your many, many misgivings, you forget to stop yourself from wincing at the sight.

And then, just as the last of its rear tentacles pull themselves up into shallower waters, the beast teeters forwards and starts to topple. All at once, the yellow creature's fins plaster themselves back against its skull and it bellows out a shrill, sharp screech, springing into action and bounding off across the beach. However, it's too late to keep the paler beast from crashing down into the shallows like an enormous redwood tree, sending a violent tremor across the ground and casting ripples through the water you're sitting in.

You have to wrench yourself out of your stupor with a visceral jolt, realising that both creatures are now distracted. Your path is momentarily clear.

This could be your best and only chance.

Setting your jaw, you swipe up the crutch that has sunk into the pool at your side and use it to haul yourself upright. The thigh strapped to your prosthetic hums, and both legs threaten to buckle out from underneath you after such a long time spent curled up in the cave, but you simply grit your teeth and push on, lumbering towards the gap in the cliff walls.

The odd trinkets are left behind to be swallowed by the tide.

It's tricky to try and hurry through ankle-deep water, and each footstep splashes freezing droplets of the sea onto your bare leg and sends goosebumps racing up and down your spine.

Further down the beach, the monster that had cornered you has reached its downed companion's side, fretting and uttering pitiable cries, all of which you steadfastly ignore as you limp towards the staircase, hugging the rocks and refusing to spare even a single glance over your shoulder.

You don't need to know, you need to go.

With your eyes glued to the slippery, metal railing that runs up the cliffs, you don't see the yellow behemoth's head turn to look in your direction, nor do you see it stretch a hand out towards you, fingers splayed, as of a sinner pleading for the Heavens to answer their desperate prayer.

But you do hear its sudden and choking wail of distress, a howl so shrill that it spears you right through the chest and leaves you faltering in your steps.

It's the closest to human the beast has ever sounded...

Just as you splash to the bottom of the stone stairs and plant your free hand on the railing, you cast a final, reluctant glance behind you, locking eyes with the first creature and feeling your heart sink into your stomach...

You berate yourself for looking.

The leviathan's hand is still out-stretched, as if it could span the length of the water-logged bay and bring you back within its grasp. It's baleen teeth are on display, but the corners of its once grinning mouth are now twisted into an unmistakable frown fraught with anguish, calling out to you wretchedly in that strange, haunting croon that reminds you of whale-song.

It doesn't want to let you get away, but it won't leave its companion's side to fetch you.

… Loyalty? From a beast of the deepest, blackest parts of maritime myth?

Your crutch thwacks against the first step...

“I'm sorry,” you hear yourself whisper, absently shaking your head and drawing away.

Gradually, the first creature's hand lowers to the ground, its triangular fins laid so flat against its head that you couldn't be sure there were fins there at all if you weren't already aware of them.

It's pale-faced companion lifts its chin from the shallow water and for one, fatal second, your gaze flicks down to meet its own.

It's massive torso expands and contracts with each breath it pulls into rattling lungs. It isn't unlike seeing a mountain breathe. Those blood-red pupils never waver, watching you warily from beneath drooping eyelids that blink in less-than-perfect tandem, notably fatigued.

It must have exhausted itself trying to escape the gillnet.

Your fingers are growing numb on the freezing cold railing.

Worrying your lower lip between your teeth, you reluctantly allow your eyes to break away from that wild, mistrusting stare and travel down the length of its torso until they land upon its trapped appendage.

You look to the net, sealing your lips together when you notice the very distinct rivulets of scarlet liquid dribbling down off the limb and plopping into the sea below it, marring the dark, grey water like ink drops.

You can hardly believe you finally have freedom at the tips of your fingers and you're faltering. Just because of a bloodied net. So what if one tentacle is caught within thick, sharp twine? The beast still has seven others to work with. You wish you would have been that lucky...

A lump grows slowly in your throat and you find yourself peering down at your own prosthetic, the very same extremity that this monster had returned to you yesterday, unprompted, unasked.

Once again, you raise your eyes to both creatures, the first, and the second, the one with the sunnier disposition, and the one with the nocturnal characteristics.

“Oh, come on,” you growl at yourself, giving your intact leg a jerk as if to get it moving, even if the rest of you is hesitating, like an idiot, "Now is not the time to grow a fucking conscience."

Those things are not your responsibility. What the Hell are you expecting to do anyway?

Help?

This is bigger than you.

So, much bigger than you.

Tipping your head back to stare up at the sky, you peel your lips apart and heave out a long, hollow sigh. "Is a little sense so much to ask for?"

Raindrops patter dully on your upturned face, and it soon becomes clear that this is the only response you're ever likely to receive from on high.

"I must be out of my mind..."

Cautious as a doe stepping out of her thicket, you draw your crutch off the bottom step and place it back in the water at your side, turning to face the pair of sea creatures, both of whom are watching you just as closely as you're watching them, one hopeful, the other guarded.

You know without a doubt which of the two you can relate to more.

#fnaf #sunnydrop #moondrop #security breach #merau #mermay #mermoon #mersun #giant/tiny #g/t

[milllkaa]

"Childhood"

Ah well, it wasn't quite what I wanted, and it was a lot shorter… But I don't have much time for comics right now… and I honestly don't have the energy for it hahaha. But I'll definitely keep drawing them.

Oh yes, FUCK YOU LUCINDA

#dark pictures anthology #dark pictures the devil in me #the devil in me #tdim #granthem du'met #hector munday #my art #artists on tumblr #doodle #and again #fuck u lucinda #UwU

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

Part 2 of Liochant focused rewrite, this time focusing on the fact that he is a skilled combatant, has no known past, and honestly no real certified looks. I acknowledge the fact that he has a minecraft block figure but so does Lucinda and we all know that that isn't what she looks like, the afro latina queen.

Since almost all of Liochant is up to interpretation, I have decided to abuse the fuck out of it. Which brings me back to writing a baseline background for him.

Liochant is from the desert part of Tu'la and much like many of the inhabitants of that area, has tattoos which he covers up as they are uncommon in Ru'aun. The tattoos are all inscriptions of protection and power, ones that bring him strength when needed and are beautifully done. All symbols of a warrior which hint at his skill.

Liochant is an incredibly skilled combatant, making the Dragon Ward despite the fact that he was "not to be trusted." In armor, he is a few leagues below Katelyn and Garroth, probably on par with Travis, who spent his entire life fighting imps. Without armor, he is on par if not better in some areas than the two knights, for wearing heavy metal armor in a desert is a death sentence, so one has to be as fast as a viper. In a fight with Katelyn he can certainly do some damage, especially if he is using khopesh his native weapon, with the fight most likely ending in a draw, with wins and loses on both sides but favoring Liochant. With Garroth, it truly is an anyones game because Garroth is sturdy, protected and has reach but Liochant is smaller (5'10 compared to Garroths massive size) and is fast.

Though, I do have to point this out that he has never fought without armor in Ru'aun yet. Liochant's goal is to not be feared but accepted.

Now the reason Liochant is so great is because he grew up in a temple of Menphia until he was 7, when the King of Tu'la invaded the deserts and burned down all temples for he is the only God to be worshipped. Soon after, the selfish Tiger King set up places for his personal entertainment, one such being a gladiator pit. A place to throw thieves and criminals to fight for his pleasure. Eventually, a starving 12 year old Liochant got caught stealing bread, and he had to choose to fight or be executed.

Liochant got better and better and moved higher up into the fighter ranks, each level coming with its own turmoils and benefits but unlike some of the other warriors, he wasn't treated to the same level of finery as he was a marked follower of menphia (when you reach 6 in the temple, a sun is tattooed onto your back with ink that makes it grow with you for Menphia is the furious sun). So, regardless of how skilled he was, he wasn't a worshipper of the king, but that still doesn't mean others didn't like him.

He did mange to hold onto his culture throughout, still managing to get tattoos despite the scars and learn. Many of the funders for the fight would "rent" a gladiator out, and he was smart, not intelligent, but smart. Eventually, he escaped when he was 20 and headed to Ru'aun, wanting to see what he could do to right the wrongs.

Essentially, my goal is to make him a character foil or counterpart to Garroth that I will go into later.

Ooo can’t wait to hear more.

#I love it when you mash keyboards and tell me stuff #aphmau #aphverse #aphblr

[wr0temyway0ut]

Hey dude hey, okay so I want to know about so so many of this but pretty please tell me about king boy alex who’s having lots of emotions 🙏🏻

Thank you for the ask Kyleigh!!

This au my beloved <3 It's my unhinged poly arranged marriage royalty au (I actually have 2 of those but this one is my favorite).

So basically how it goes is Prince Alexander's parents decide he needs to be married so they arrange a marriage between him and Princess Lucinda (aka Luke), who is trans but not out to his parents. And their whole honeymoon is Alex being like "oh no I can't get to close bc she actually likes me but I'm gay" and Luke being like "oh no I really like him but he must be pushing me away bc he knows I'm not a woman" and then they both accidentally confess to each other and actually fall in love now that they know they're both men interested in men.

But then Alex's parents find out that Luke is a man (and is intent on living as one) and since royals can't get divorced, they decide to tell the kingdom that "Princess Lucinda" has died tragically in her sleep, which allows Luke to transition (Alex's parents are against this part but Luke's parents ended up being supportive so they were kinda forced to go along with it).

But Alex is once again wifeless. So they decide, okay, you blew it with the "princess," so the next best thing is marrying Duke Covington's daughter, Lady Wilhelmina (aka Willie). Alex is planning on telling Willie that he's gay in an attempt to get him to call the marriage off, but he realizes almost immediately how abusive Caleb is and tells Willie "look I will marry you to get you out of there but I need you to know I'm gay and this is my husband who used to be my wife." And Willie is like "thank god bc I'm a man too" and Alex and Luke are like "a man you say 👀 did we happen to mention how handsome you are" and they bring Willie into their relationship. When Willie is ready, they tell Alex's parents that Alex's wife is once again his husband now and they tell the kingdom that Princess Wilhelmina has tragically died in a fire (he was a known arson enthusiast).

Aaand once again Alex needs a new wife bc there are still no heirs (and any made with Luke and Willie would be illegitimate). Alex's parents are running out of eligible women, but they meet Duchess Regina Peters (who runs the estate with her twin brother Reggie, or at least that's what Reggie, who is genderfluid and is also Regina, wants the world to think). And they're like you seem female and eligible will you marry our son. And Reggie's like yeah sure why not, except when he finds out Alex is gay he shows up to the wedding in Man Mode and it starts a riot but Alex finds a way to make the marriage go through anyway (maybe that they put Regina on the marriage certificate idk). And then two weeks later "Duchess Regina" is tragically trampled by sheep.

Alex's parents are exhausted. They're furious. They're 99% convinced Alex has hired a witch to turn all his fiances into men. And they're like fuck it. This time you pick a woman (bc maybe he's turning them all into men bc he doesn't like that his parents picked them.) And Alex sees an opportunity here. Bc back when Luke first came out, Alex's sister had a lady in waiting named Robin. And Robin had confided in Luke and Alex that he was trans as well. And so when Alex's parents say "you pick" he immediately points at Bobby and says "That one." (important to note that he did not consult with Bobby on this beforehand, Bobby nearly chokes on his food). And after they get married, Bobby comes out and suddenly Lady Robin has tragically drowned.

So now Alex has four husbands who are also in love with each other and still no wives, and it's at this point that Lady Julie (Luke's lady-in-waiting who just kinda stuck around after Luke's legal death) is like "You know I'd marry you to get your parents off your back right?"

And so Julie and Alex get married, and after she stays a woman for a year Alex's parents finally relax. And then Julie gets pregnant! And they're so happy that they finally step down and let Alex take the throne. Except... how is Julie pregnant? And when she gives birth, why does the baby look nothing like Alex??

Maybe bc after wedding #3 Reggie mentioned to Alex that he has a friend from school who is a trans woman named Flynn. And maybe Alex decided to hire her as his new royal advisor to give her an opportunity to transition. And maybe just maybe she and Julie fell in love.

And THAT is the tale of King Alexander, his four undead husbands, his wife, his wife's wife, and the royal-ish baby they're all raising together

#this is my favorite au i've ever written methinks #asks #ask games #wips #wip games

[minifrenchfry-kabbit]

Aspiration.

@olivethesecuties

She felt like even more of a space cadet than usual, it was all she could do to keep waning focus on the road, occasionally moving a paw from the steering wheel to dig her claws into her pad, the needle-sharp pain enough to penetrate the anxious haze that clouded her thoughts.

Get it together Katrina.. the last thing you wanna do now is to get into an accident.. not ever, but like.. DEF not today..

Exhaling a slow breath to try and slow the rapid beat of her soul, she flicked her turn signal and smoothly turned her little battered car onto the familiar suburb street, maneuvering as quietly as she could in front of her girlfriend’s house, and cutting the engine.

She flopped back against the driver’s street, hands dropping from the wheel as she turned her head to her mobile on the dashboard charger, reaching for it and unlocking it to glance over her messages.

With a sting, she noticed she still hadn’t responded. She felt guilty all over again for more or less ghosting her lover that morning, not intentionally, but she had so much to prepare and she wanted it to be a surprise..

Curse her inability to focus on more than one significant thing at a time..

She just hoped that Lucinda was home, it was impossible to tell when she always kept her car safely in the garage, and with the daylight, it was as equally impossible to see if there were any lights on inside.

It’d be her own fault if she’d made other plans, she’d closed up the restaurant for a reason.. she didn’t want to work on Valentine’s Day, so it stood to reason she didn’t want to spend it alone at home either.. the whole reason she’d been trying to gauge what she was up to that day.

Gah..! You’re such a freaking fluffbrain Kat..!

Her head dropped dejectedly against the steering wheel with a brief stutter of a honk, the sound startling her from her negative self-talk.

Okay.. you’ve had your little mental beratement.. just get out of the car, and check. Don’t just assume you’ve fucked things up..

Taking a deep breath, she raised her head, snatched the wrapped bouquet of forget-me-nots and roses - (red, burgundy, and purple.. because she was an absolute plant-nerd sap;) from the passenger’s seat and finally exited the car, shutting it after her as quietly as she could manage.

She glanced back to ensure her tail was still slipped neatly through the back of her dress, the same emerald green sleeveless that she’d worn ages back.. she’d thought about opting for something different but if Luci remembered.. this would have much more sentimental weight to it.

And if she didn’t.. no biggie! At least this one shaped nicely to her curves, right?

Before her anxiety could spike up anew and send her retreating back into the car, she forced herself in a march up the pathway, cradling the bouquet to her chest as she carefully alighted the steps of the porch to stop at the door, swallowing thickly and moving a shaky paw out to knock.

“..Lu-.. Lucinda? My geode - are.. are you home..? It’s.. it’s Kat..”

#olivethesecuties #🐈 #яєcιρяσcαтєɗ Ɩσνє (lucinda)

[birlwrites]

what were the other slytherins' career meetings with slughorn like?

the way i had half of this typed out and then lost it 😔 we soldier on

most of the career meetings were pretty uneventful because most of the slytherins know exactly what they're doing - they're going to graduate and become full-time aristocrats. whether they're CONTENT with this is another matter - emma in particular is itching to go pro in quidditch, she just hasn't worked out her angle, and charlotte's considering a variety of masteries because she's uncomfortable with the idea of suddenly having No More School - but they were still uneventful

which leaves barty and lucinda!!!

barty's meeting was straightforward enough in that they talked about potential future careers using runes, slughorn told him babbling would be delighted to help him out with that since it is after all her field of study, and as far as the 'what newts you need to take' conversation, it was literally just 'make sure you get into newt runes. getting an o on the owl is a good idea. take some other classes too to be well-rounded on mastery applications, the traditional supplemental subjects are transfiguration and charms but runes are an inherently interdisciplinary field so you can basically get away with anything as long as you're decent at it and can sell them on it in your application'

lucinda, on the other hand, was basically vibrating out of her seat the entire time, stressed out of her mind at being The Only One in their year who really needs to Do Something Special to be successful in life. maeve has jokingly (she was dead serious) offered lucinda her own set of rooms in the bulstrodes' ancestral home, but lucinda hates the idea of just sitting around all day living off of her best friend So Much. So Fucking Much. so she needs a CAREER and she needs to be GOOD AT IT and her friends don't UNDERSTAND because they are SACRED TWENTY-EIGHT ARISTOCRATS WITH FORTUNES (and barty is. barty. he'd probably gladly live in maeve's house for the rest of his life and his only regret would be that it wasn't regulus's)

so slughorn had 4 totally straightforward very chill career meetings (regulus, maeve, barty, and evan), then BAM LUCINDA!!!!!!!, then 2 basically straightforward very chill career meetings (emma and charlotte)

emma hasn't really. Externalized her desire to become a professional quidditch player to anyone other than evan and like. geoff. house vanity isn't suuuuuuuuper conventional so it's not like it's hopeless (like - can you imagine regulus being like 'mother, father, i shall not become lord black, i am abdicating so that i can play seeker for the falmouth falcons'), but they're not... *un*conventional. emma's not the heir which gives her more freedom but she's also part of a family that is very much In the sacred twenty-eight, unlike, for example, the weasleys. so it would be pushing boundaries for her to become a pro athlete and mentioning it to slughorn would feel a little. embarrassingly optimistic to her

slughorn may be able to connect lucinda with someone at witch weekly, and if she plays her cards right, she could probably get an internship there the summer after her sixth year, which plays very well into both her love of accessorizing and her newfound interest in journalism as a viable profession (thanks geoff!! team dad all the way. even for people who aren't on the team yet)

charlotte can't decide which mastery she wants to pursue (first)

#should i make an inbox tag #dark lord wip

[butterflyintochains]

Schism

Another week in Whistler might just be the thing that finally does Joanna Blackwood in, her boyfriend is in Michigan with Quinn and his family. She loves her family, she really does, but good God they've been insufferable. Her parents have been their usual lovely selves, her niblings are just the best, but her three older siblings are annoying her. To make matters worse, Elias' new contract is still up in the air, and she has to hear about it from her siblings who don't know what the fuck they're talking about. Currently, Joanna is in her room in Blackwood Lodge, her brothers are out biking, her sisters are swimming at the lake. Bored senseless, she grabs her climbing stuff from her days out with the gang, and heads down to the climbing centre. She spends some time on some boulders, before tackling a lead wall, then heads home for some dinner. ''If you ask me, Benning is an idiot, letting these two dictate the discussion like this.'' Edward says.

Nicholas, ever the eldest Blackwood's lieutenant, nods. ''I know, he should just say; 'here's the offer, don't like it, tough shit'. It's what I'd do.''

Joanna feels the fire Elias stoked in her rising, but tries to freeze it back down, she's not called 'Ice Queen' for nothing. She scrolls through her instagram to keep herself busy. ''How do we know it's not just Elias and Quinn being greedy? Wanting more than they're due? It's not like either had a good season last year, is it?'' Her brother-in-law Matthew poses. Which is... simply untrue. Quinn led the team in assists. Elias was injured. And, the team got sick with covid. ''Besides, it's just business, right?'' Lucinda adds. Joanna fiddles with her ring, a topaz and emerald on yellow gold, Elias' most recent birthday gift to her. His ring, their stones, his love. ''You guys know I'm right here, don't you? The girlfriend of one Canuck and best friend of another?'' Edward laughs. ''Anna, you've been with him for two years.''

Joanna furrows her brows. ''And? We live together, I've met his family, we already know we're forever. So, what do you think gives you the right to speak about him like that? I'm going through this stress too, you know?''

Matthew asks, in disbelief. ''Really? How?'' Joanna simply states, because they made each other a promise. ''If he leaves, so do I.'' Nicholas scoffs. ''Oh, come on, sis. This city is your home.'' Lucinda says. ''There will be other guys, Anna.''

With this, Joanna rises, and books an early morning flight to Michigan. ''He's my home, my family, the love of my life. If the three of you can't understand that, I'm out. Mike, Kate, I'll text you tomorrow.'' She goes to pack up for the flight. In silence, she packs her car, and drives back into the city. Staying the night at home.

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

Joanna books in for her flight to Detroit the next morning, goes through security. After a quick breakfast, Joanna gets on her flight, bound for her boyfriend. Perhaps she should've taken this holiday with him all along. She can't understand how her married older siblings can be so... dismissive of them.

She lands in Detroit late that afternoon, and orders an Uber to take her to Ann Arbor. The driver is called Peter, and he's really nice. ''What brings a BC girl to Michigan?'' He asks in the car.

Joanna says. ''My boyfriend is with friends here, I had a fallout with my family, so, here I am.'' After some time of driving, Peter asks her. ''Do you know where he is, Joanna?'' Joanna mentally kicks herself for the oversight. ''No, hang on.'' She texts Quinn.

Joanna Rose: Hey, Q, I'm in Ann Arbor, where are you guys rn? Huggy Bear: Really? We're at my parents' place. 45 Franklin Street, on the lake. Should I tell my mom to get a room ready? Joanna Rose: I already sleep with Elias, Q, we'll be okay.

She tells Peter the address, and he drops her off. She pays and tips him, thanking God for her trust fund. The house is lovely, a nice big lakehouse. All the hallmarks of a hockey family in the frontyard. She's dead tired, and knocks the door. Quinn lets her into the house, it's very cozy in here. ''This place is amazing, Q.'' She hugs him. He leads her through to the back patio, here she's finally reunited with her Elias. ''Hjartat, what... how...'' She leaps into his arms, he holds her tight. ''I've missed you so much.''

Elias kisses her neck. ''I've missed you too, alskling.'' Before the trio are joined, she tells them everything her siblings were saying over dinner last night. ''It just... hurt me so much... they were just insulting you as if I wasn't even there.''

Quinn is shocked. ''And 'there will be other guys'? Has Lucinda met you two? Hell, even Brock and I know you'll be married one day.'' Elias stares a hole in the oak planks beneath them. ''But, Anna, they're your family.''

Joanna takes his hands. ''So are you, and Quinn, and Brock, and Thatcher. You are my family, I choose you.'' Elias kisses her hands, and says. ''I choose you too.''

In time, Quinn's younger brothers - Jack and Luke join them. ''You must be Joanna, Petey loves gushing about you.'' Jack says. Joanna laughs, and relaxes into his arms. ''I can imagine.''

To her surprise, both Tkachuk brothers and their sister join them too. The group hang out, until Ellen Hughes sends them to bed. Joanna climbs into bed with Elias.

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

Over the coming days, the group hang out as young people should. Quinn's family are super nice and welcoming. During breakfast on her fourth morning, she says to Jim and Ellen. ''Sorry for dropping in on you, Mr and Mrs Hughes, I've just missed Elias so much.'' Jim assures her. ''Don't apologize, dear, our door is always open to Quinn's friends. Quinn told us why you're here, I can't believe how insensitive your family have been.''

Ellen adds, backing her husband up. ''You and Elias live together, that sounds pretty permanent to me.'' Luke puts his plate in the dishwasher. ''I think they're jealous, Joanna, they all have normal spouses, you have a Canuck.''

Brady tips his juice glass to the youngest Hughes brother. ''Hear hear, Lukey.''

Joanna laughs, she finds that she rather likes Luke's honesty, reminds her of her younger sister. ''You'd get on so well with my little sister, Kate. She's seventeen, and does not hold back.''

Later that day, Elias and Quinn's new contracts arrive in the mail, and are signed before the group go down to the lake. Joanna has Taryn snap a picture of herself and Elias. Which goes onto her instagram.

@Joanna_Rose: Take this sinking ship, and point it home. We've still got time - Glen and Marketa. With my favourite person on Earth, I love you, Elias!

liked by: @_eliaspettersson, @_quinnhughes, @bboeser, and 250 others.

Replies:

@_eliaspettersson: Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice, you've made it now. My love, my light. I love you, Joanna.

@TessaKnight: Glad to see my bestie is happy with you, Elias! @NucksForever: Love looks good on you guys! @Canucks: Can't wait to have you guys home soon!

@bboeser: My two best friends, can't wait to see you two again.

@Elianna4Ever: Our beloveds! And the Once lyrics are everything, Glen and Marketa are iconic for that song.

@Joanna_Rose: Yeah, we watched Once ages ago, and Falling Slowly is just... the most impactful song I've heard in my life. Glad you stan us, because we certainly do.

@BelieveInBlue: Wait, Joanna is in Michigan with the boys?? Holy shit!

@Joanna_Rose: Yeah, had some family drama, and Elias is my safe space, so... here I am! The Hughes fam are awesome, the Tkachuks are chaotic, but that's fine.

The holiday is healing for her, after the fallout with her family, which will probably not be resolved this side of all star break, she savours this precious time off with the love of her life.

#hockey rpf #vancouver canucks #elias pettersson x oc

[cheesebrackers]

DARK MOON RAMBLE TIME

these questions and theories have been typed down by me in the span of 4 days (4 days of info/questions)

(theory about why all possessors are heavier than gobbers)

This is very random but I was thinking about this and got two vague theories

1 the dark moon shard 2 the fact that it's technically 3 ghosts

1 maybe the dark moon shard has a spectral weight that exceeds the average weight of a ghost. Why would it have a spectral weight? No idea, the dark moon is a confusing thing, but its properties are related to ghosts, so who knows

2, Well, it's always 3 ghosts technically. There's not much to say about that but it could be a possibility

Maybe both

Also it's probably that Nintendo just thought making the bosses have more shit than other ghosts was a good idea and it has nothing to do with whatever I just said but I'm here to fill plotholes

(questionment)

How did he (a strong sneaker) go through the wall with the rotor? Ive seen ghosts go through walls with objects (ex; the 4 slammers in the gloomy manor) but ive also seen some be unable to do so, like that greenie in the old clockworks who tried to go through a door but slammed himself against it because he had a bucket on his head and for some reason that couldnt go thru the wall

(After asking myself what relationship boos and other ghosts are like, later getting two answers somehow)

Another detail i noticed that really doesnt matter at all! The english version says boos dont get along with powerful ghosts, while the french one says they dont get along with any other ghost, MOSTLY the powerful ones

I know theyre under control but i refuse to believe all boos dislike might other ghosts if you I cabt trust the old egg all the time, plus boos are very much sentient beings, so not all of them think the same Psychoanalysis of mario boos

(about boos and nebulospheres/spirit balls)

In english, e.gadd says boos probably got the ability to use nebulospheres from someone, because they didnt just start doing that like its nothing, implying they couldnt do that before (im not calling them spirit balls fuck you) (btw nebulosphere is the french name for them)

In french, its implied they could already use nebulospheres, but didnt do it as much right now

That brings me to yet another question Does the dark moon affect boos? Probably, in the way that they are most likely controlled by king boo instead of just being told orders, as implied by the nebulospheres thing. They werent harmless like other ghosts, but surely they werent THAT obedient.

But im not sure

(this one is older and maybe I've already said it but this is about ghosts and where they may come from)

I've been kinda wondering about something. I settled on the theory that non-humanoid looking ghosts aren't dead people, just made up mfs

But, in dark moon ok, Belinda, Lucinda and Herlinda aren't human looking. That's for sure. No one is shaped like that, it fits the style of the other ghosts

But. They are hinted to be dead, as shown in the haunted towers

There's three pictures, each showing a woman that fits the physical traits of each sister

And now I'm confused. again im very sure nintendo doesnt actually give a shit about logic and just made this shit for fun but listen im autistic

My friend at school said maybe king boo is the core of ghost creation because of a portal he made in the treacherous mansion that caused the "paranormal chaos" (several wave of ghosts in different locations with a timer which you CANNOT FAIL ONCE), but that can't be true, because they have been in evershade valley before kb fucked everything up

#luigi's mansion 2 #luigi's mansion dark moon #luigi's mansion #cheesebrackers says shit #J cant tag all the ghosts can i.

[aro-laurance-zvahl]

Trans Garroth??👀👀

Anon I love you for asking me about this one. (Also cw for transphobia and outing, I love making bigotless fantasy but it’s not what this calls for)

Trans Garroth is one of my personal favorites I’ve come up with, and I love it so much because it just makes sense.

It flows so nicely with Garroth’s character. The runaway prince vibes and the hiding his face and also the trauma he has with his family just.

Him being stealth, the people who know being limited (and also dead, rip Malik and Matilda) because from his experience with his father he feels that is how it has to be.

Zane maliciously outing him at the docks (or at least attempting to, unsure if Garroth would’ve told by Aphmau by that point cause I’d like that to be a sweet scene but Zane doing this feels more accurate and also him potentially ruining that sweet scene? I’m torn) when he spills Garroth’s background. The fucking RELIEF Garroth would feel when all of that doesn’t change how Aphmau sees him, and her being determined to keep him away from his bitch family that does care for some reason.

Also I know I’m a broken record but it could really be used to make the betrayal arc make sense. Instead of the illusion being Aphmau kissing Laurance, it’s Aphmau outing him to Laurance and showing them being assholes about it. This means Zane can swoop in and manipulate Garroth by giving him basic human respect (something he’s NEVER gotten from blood family, and something he’s always wanted). Call him the right name, use the right pronouns, display his former actions as Garte forcing his hand. Of course he’s always seen him as his brother, but Father is just too narrow minded and too powerful but with this plan, with his help, they can stop him. Take him down and he’ll be free to be himself.

And of course I still have to make tie in Garroth’s true fatal flaw of loyalty into this, so that’s exactly why he stays behind. He thinks they don’t care about him or truly see him as he is, and he knows he is breaking one of the strictest boundaries he has by doing this, but he will betray his own self respect to let them escape.

I also have this like. Edges on the side of crack running gag in my mind of Laurance noticing Garroth taking his minor transmutation potions (fantasy HRT) and of course he gets a bit worried Garroth is taking drugs or something but he manages to always bring this concern up to the few people who know so he keeps getting brushed off. Talk to Aphmau who says she knows what it is and it’s fine and maybe to ask Garroth instead, talk to Azura because they have history but she just laughs and says Garroth would never jeopardize his ability to protect, goes to Dale who nervously laughs and says Garroth is a good man and escapes that conversation, go to Lucinda with one of the potions and accuse her of being his supplier only to get laughed at because that’s fucking hilarious. That stunt leads to Aphmau tearing him a fucking new one though, fully deserved

Anyway I just. Love trans Garroth. My favorite part is how it really changes so little

#minecraft diaries #mcd #garroth ro'meave #mcd garroth #trans garroth Ro’Meave #transphobia #outing

[y0urlittl3ang3l]

Headcanons for MCD characters??

This will probably be super long so..have fun??

Garroth is the main character

Garroth is 6'6

Laurance is 6'1

Dante is the shortest of the trio at 5'11

Aphmau and Aaron are side characters

Fuck it, Laurance is Irene's descendant instead of Aphmau

Garroth and Laurance have a lot of homoerotic moments, while friends and while they're more than friends

Garroth is super fucking strong but he holds back a lot to avoid scaring the citizens

Laurance never misses the chance to try and get Garroth to snap when there are one too many brawls popping up around town

Garroth is way better with a bow than with a sword, but he's pretty aggressive while fighting so it works out for him a lot

Dante is basically Garroth and Laurance's son

Garroth is super warm, and during the winter everyone in the guard tower likes to sleep in his bed because of how warm it is

Laurance's alcohol tolerance? What's that?

Laurance's eyes glow in the dark

Garroth honest to god did not know what sex was until he was 23, barely understood any dirty jokes thrown his way

Whenever Dante has nightmares, he always asks Garroth to tell him stories about O'Khasis to help him fall back asleep

Laurance was Garroth's bi awakening

When Laurance had first seen Garroth without a helmet he froze in his spot from how pretty the blonde was

Garroth is a damn good cook, will only cook on special occasions though

Garroth used to get into brawl fights all the time when he was younger

Laurance has and still does bring wild animals into the guard tower claiming they're his pets

When Garroth is angry angry, literally everybody is scared too scared to try and calm him down

Garroth ran away but he didn't fake his death, when he went to Phoenix drop he did adopt a new name and changed up his appearance from under his helmet though

Dante once asked Garroth for a Dog, so now the guards have a shared dog who's name is Sprinkles

Laurance has fallen from many high places in his life time

Garroth has always been there to catch him

The boys went out to the hot springs together once and Garroth swore he'd never go with them again after they stared, very obviously, at his chest the whole night

Garroth doesn't enjoy drinking, on the rare occasion he does though he'll drink a few glasses of sweet wine

Laurance and Lucinda flirt, like all the time, and it makes Garroth super jealous

And because of how jealous Garroth was he'd be super fucking aggressive towards Laurance, which confuses him a lot but he thinks it's hot nonetheless

Like they could be sparring and Garroth will have Maurance in a position where he can kill him and Laurance will say shit like "Are we about to kiss?" Or " You look really hot right now."

Whenever Garroth's having a bad day Laurance will kiss him all over his face until Garroth is giggling and smiling

Garroth would protect Laurance and Dante with his life, they get shot at? Garroth will take the arrow. They almost get stabbed? Garroth will take the blade. Any harm that comes to them, Garroth will take instead

Garroth and Laurance have explored each other's bodies before, no further explanation

Garroth and Laurance would be the type of couple where one would make out with the other in the middle of town square while the other one will be too embarrassed to even hold hands in private

Garroth is so fucking PRETTY- All the women of Ru'uan are Jealous is his beauty

It was long thought that Shadow Knights didn't have a sex drive, until Laurance became one and somehow came back hornier than when he was alive

Don't ask me how Laurance being Irene's descendant would still lead to him being a shadow knight. I don't know either

Garroth can easily carry Dante and Laurance around on his shoulders

Garroth has separation anxiety and starts to hyperventilate when he can't find Dante and Laurance, he's getting better though

Dante and Laurance occasionally break into song, and while Garroth doesn't particularly like it he does indulge them and sings along

Laurance has absolutely no filter at all and will literally point out what he thinks people insecurities are if they're bothering one of his friends

Dante is the top Garrance supporter, KC being right behind him

Garroth is bad with words, so when he wants to show his friends he appreciates them he makes them flower crowns, the other guards think it's so cute

Garroth is a really good drawer and he has a notebook full of drawing of mostly Laurance and Dante, though there a few of the others

Garroth has multiple scars all over his body, the place that has the most is his hands though as he constantly scratches at them and picks at the scabs

Garroth used to be abused by Garte and has multiple scars from it, the most prominent one is the scar going down his eye from when he got mad at Garroth for messing up(part of the reason why he refused to take off his helmet for so long)

Dante and Laurance like sleeping in Garroth's bed because his warmth is very comforting, so more often than not Dante, Garroth and Laurance can be seen sleeping together

Aaron is the chill friend who helps Garroth with stopping Dante and Laurance from doing stupid shit

Aphmau is just a kind Baker who came to Phoenix drop along with KC

Sometimes Garroth feels like he's one inconvenience away from absolutely losing his shit

Dale is Garroth's father figure and often goes to him when he feels lost and needs advice

Laurance sneaks off at night to bathe in lava and it freaks the fuck out of Garroth

Laurance has held Dante over the fencing on the balcony of the guard tower before

Dante will always, and I mean always call out Laurance and Garroth whenever they have homoerotic moments

When Laurance and Garroth were having their bet about, Laurance used to deny going out drinking with Dante to find out more ways to get Garroth to take his helmet off

Because of that Dante has said and I quote, " And now we can't go out drinking because you can't stop thinking about Garroth's helmet."

Laurance's theme song would be 'Street Fight' by Adam Jensen and no one can convince me otherwise

Laurance is super flexible and it pisses Dante off whenever he uses it to his advantage during twister

Laurance flirts with everyone, but when it comes to Garroth he'll flirt so much harder, Garroth isn't phased by it anymore

Dante has great intuition and is super good at reading body language, so if thinks someone is lying he'll go and tell Garroth about it

Brian and Dante are good friends

#minecraft diaries #mcd garroth #mcd laurance #mcd dante #headcanon #garrance #gay shit #aphmau

[random-ruaun-traveler]

entry #56

so. i’m out of the cell. time to recap.

i was sitting in my cell, minding my own business doodling on my notepad, right? Logan is sleeping, and Lucinda is just trying to figure out how to make some kind of pain medication or potion to help with him.

suddenly there's a shit ton of noise coming from up above ground, and the noise starts getting closer and im recognizing it as werewolves and more coming down the stairs, and not just werewolves. Lucinda isn’t paying any mind to this, Logan is waking up from the noise and i’m the only one now paying attention.

now i’m seeing like 4 people being held captive by the werewolves and i’m just thinking "great, more company. these werewolves sure do like their kidnappings.". i’m assuming they’re going to put these people in like the other cells they have, but i assume wrong because now they’ve pulled me out of MY cell and put like the 3 men in it, placing me to side where all of everyone's stuff is. Lucinda is paying attention now because they’ve put the one woman in the group in Lucinda and Logan's cell and Lucinda is just staring at me. because what the fuck is happening.

werewolves are paying no mind to me now, and i’m starting to realize that i can just. walk out. the werewolves threw my stuff literally towards me in order to put away the other group's things, so now heres my chance! i pick up my stuff, slowly mind you, and the werewolves just don’t care. i’m looking towards Lucinda like "do i just go???" and she’s staring back basically like "yes??? i guess??". so i just grab the rest of my gear, dig into Lucinda's bag for a healing potion and i just. walk out.

and now i’m probably developing hypothermia because it turns out these werewolves LIVE IN A FUCKING WINTER TUNDRA. FUCK ME IN THE ASS.

#its so odd being out of the cell #after like… almost 4 months now #but maybe i’ll go back to my normal self now that i’m out #outsider pov #aphblr #aphmau #aphverse #minecraft diaries