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YOU'RE AWFUL! (I LOVE YOU!)

» private, canon-divergent, & focused on s2-s6 characterization » sideblog. follows from @paradisecursed » beta editor

RULES & ABOUT. / ART. / HCS. / PROMPTS.

petah... the horse is hohmy god petah what're ya doing with that horse!!! @aeinsof

#mother of flies .#art .#ཐིཋྀ aeinsof | kromer. as sweet as arsenic; sugar to the point of sick.#old drawing but dogshit yuri loose in the hospital #i love crossover shipping. like. what's even happening here guys.

cheaphalloweencostume

“oh so only your hyper specific interpretation of this character matters? no one else gets to have theirs?” yes precisely. now go my flock peck them clean for their insolence 🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

#isms .#gestures helplessly

inbox call!

#ooc .#if multi specify :]

dumptykey

𝐈𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦– not in a way he likes. Now with… whatever IT is looking at him, Ikuto begins to realize that it wasn't as small as the dim lighting made this creature out to be. He was thinking of a raccoon or fox at best. Those things are all over these parts, and with how its eyes were lowered how was he supposed to know it's the size of a fucking horse?

His breath seizes in his throat. It's looking at him in such a particular way– like how a cat sizes up an unknowing mouse. A look he knows all too well when his old Guardian Character, Yoru, brought back all sorts of strays, and well… when Yoru's feline influence made Ikuto do the same when he saw something he wanted.

The violinist's phone steadily lowers from his ear. Whoever is on the other end begins to ask what's happening, but Ikuto hangs up. Hopefully, some of his cat-like reflexes are still ingrained in his muscle memory.

The creature lunges, flying towards him– but Ikuto steps back into his hotel room and slams the glass door shut. Flicking the lock and shutting the shade.

Nope–!

He is NOT fucking with that. He can't release his breath yet though... Only send a silent prayer that he's still able to move with such flexibility, but every part of him is screaming this isn't over yet.

lovedrain

BANG!

The blinds swayed from the impact. Something big was knocked to the ground. A shriek, like some horrific mix of a hissing roach and an indignant old woman, punctuated the crash. A rustling like a thousand beetles was quick to follow, nearly muffling the snarling, chittering...

...Mumbled curses of a voice. Incoherent, but deliberate. Intentional.

A new sound: buzzing. Wings that roared loud enough that they must've belonged to the biggest dragon-fly in the world, and yet not so loud that they masked a peculiar, whirring hum. It sounded like the twinkle of stars. A bright light grew outside.

And grew.

The room turned green --

BOOM!

-- and went white with the sound of shattering glass.

#dumptykey #ic .#thread .#v0 .#obligate HEEEERES CHRYSSY etc etc #had more to this but wanted to give ikuto a chance to react to chrysalis exploding his door before i did thaet :3

aeinsof

euhg. yeuC K. GEUHG . @lovedrain

it was like living in a dream, every little fragment you desired easily slipping within reach. you would’ve wondered if you were dreaming weeks ago, would’ve asked one of your subordinates to pinch you just to check, yet the reality of it all was too much to outright question. there was no need to look a gift horse in the mouth, after all.

you were sure at least that this world’s sinclair would be too cowardly, too trapped within the confines of his shell to try soaring beside you - but there was nothing stopping you from setting another on this path, of opening your embrace to one that was more receptive to your methods.

this one at least had some bite to his words, just enough conviction to make it all worthwhile. you were already smiling over the fire, the smoke leaving a lingering pain in your lungs that you refused to acknowledge - yet his own fire almost made you choke.

and just like a fire without oxygen, he burns down just as quickly. the turn away, the admittance to weakness, to some inadequacy, it’s a promising lure. ‘too good to be true’. too easy. and yet-

you didn’t quite care about the risks. about the lingering sense something wasn’t right. nothing about what you were doing was ‘right’ anyways; not by the standards of the world around you. but that was fine. that was okay. you can change it all for yourself, for the better.

bloodied metal touches the back of his neck, fingers settling in a loose hold over a carotid artery. you can’t feel his pulse through the gauntlet of course, but the warmth is familiar enough. the hold doesn’t last, the hand slipping under his chin as you pull him close. the burning bodies had far more warmth than this, steel threatening flesh like a knife to a hostage-

“then learn.” hot breath against his ear. claws forcing his head back up, back to attention, back to stare at the funeral pyres.

lovedrain

Centuries of practiced restraint was the only thing stopping her from breaking the glamour and cocooning the whelp then-and-there for daring to lay a hand upon her. Dominance was this one's way to show love, she reminded herself, to bend and break. A queen must bide her time; play the long game. She'd get her just reward in the end. Besides, there'd been ponies that'd humiliated her worse than this.

She instead dulled her anger by musing on how utterly pathetic the object of this prey's affections was. Though 'he' trembled, wide-eyed as her claws tickled 'his' nape, 'he' could only swallow as his body pressed itself hungrily into her touch (almost enough to break the skin, without her even trying). 'His' knees buckled, practically melting into her as she yanked 'him' around. Hands that'd been clenched before now reached for the warmth of her armor - but hesitated to embrace her.

She would gag if she could get away with it. At least the hilarity of how this utter freak of a human couldn't win the affections of a real sopping wet wretch soothed the nausea bubbling in her abdomen.

It's a thought that didn't get a chance to bring much relief before steel claws snatched fistfuls of 'his' hair. An involuntary gasp escaped 'him' when 'his' head was violently yanked upright, and the blinding red of a purifying inferno colored his wide rabbit eyes.

It was an effortful act to conceal how utterly annoyed she was with the sight. Fire hardly made interesting set dressing, and the heat left her wishing for the pleasant humidity of a fetid swamp. What was far more grating, though, was the fuel for the pyre. She could make out the bodies from here.

What a waste of love, she mused idly. Next time she had to - ugh - play 'errand boy', she'd wait until she had had her fill to sound the alarm on more... what're they called. Prosthetic users? A bit of a mouthful. She could come up with a better name.

'He' expressed no such thoughts. The way she held 'his' head up made 'him' wheeze like a dying animal. 'His' fists were tightly clenched again, and every part of 'him' trembled in her grip. She could feel goosebumps on 'his' skin through her gauntlets if she paid attention.

A few tears rolled down 'his' cheeks - a je ne sais quoi to complete the performance.

"Teach me," 'he' sneered begged, then screamed - "TEACH ME! What am I not seeing?!"

#aeinsof #ic .#thread .#v0 .#ཐིཋྀ aeinsof | kromer. as sweet as arsenic; sugar to the point of sick.#throws up in my mouth a bit.#ask to tag cw #bad cw #< - yea that works.

aeinsof

"... okay." the reactions were so strange to see - if you weren't staring at such a strange amalgamation right now, maybe the strangeness would've scared you. as it was now? it was funny. maybe if he was here, he'd get mad about it - he was always touchy about that stuff after all. 'you can't be me, i'm me!' sounded like something he'd yell...

the bugs were upset now- that wasn’t good. you hadn’t meant to disturb them. as for the skin it wore... maybe it’d be best now to just let it be. he didn't want to talk about it, so you weren't gonna push this time either. you still couldn’t pick up on just what exactly it was doing other than playing pretend - did it want to play? was it bored? you had remedies for that-

you got up and walked away without another word, shuffling through a box in the other room for a bit. you’d been collecting things, storing them away in nooks and crannies whenever you thought he’d not notice - you came back with a torn up box in your arms that occasionally rattled. ‘reversi’ was barely legible on the top.

you’re not even looking at him while you lay the board out. black pieces on his side, white on yours, naturally. not that you expected him to play at all - he never did before, and you were well-equipped to go against yourself. but then again, this wasn’t him, was it? that little bit of hope finally made you look back at ‘him’ properly, staring expectantly.

surely 'he' knew that you always went second?

lovedrain

Okay ended the conversation, but there was something in the way he said it that bade 'his' frown to twitch. 'He' didn't push it, whatever was bothering 'him'. 'He' simply sat back, allowing his shoulders to sag. A golden glower followed him out the door.

The sound of shuffling in the other room permitted her privacy. At once, she groaned and slumped further into the cushions. A hand reached up to massage between her eyes, and then dragged down her face. Too awkward, she thought - too awkward and too close. The line between paranoia and actual slip-ups was razor-thin, and a hungry growl from the core of her was sure to warn her as much.

Bah. She couldn't be so pessimistic - the boy wasn't screaming and throwing her out, at least. That itself was a victory. Now she was more experienced with her morsel's game; a bleeding heart therapist type. Seemed to be aware of something being off, but was likely figuring it to be a bad day or sour mood.

It reminded her a tad bit too much of a certain... ex 'sister-in-law'.

If this were a winged disguise, they'd be buzzing in fury.

He came back into the room, finding 'him' leaning forward, with 'his' chin rested on folded hands as 'he' glared at the wall. The rustle of a box snapped 'him' to attention, and a few owlish blinks were 'his' silent acknowledgment of a game.

A curious change of conversation, but one she wouldn't complain about. A way to defuse tension, perhaps. She could work with that. She'd just need the right moment to 'accidentally' brush their hands together, or simply get close... and, well.

She wouldn't have hunger clouding her judgement anymore, at least.

To her relief, the game was one she recognized. How many unicorn parties had she and her changelings invaded, waiting for her to win one of these paltry noble board games so that she could take a victory lap by feasting on the host's love?

'He' took a moment to examine the set board. Black suited her fine; she'd give the boy that. The board was a dingy thing, hardly something that would be seen in the private gardens she'd grown used to. His white pieces were off-color... and then, him. 'He' paused.

Ah, there it was again - something expectant in his eyes. Attentive, with a tilt of his head. She knew that look.

A test.

And by the way he held his hands instead of fiddling with the pieces, she'd wager what the answer was. 'He' leaned forward and grabbed a piece. Sitting back, 'he' took a moment to enjoy flipping the game piece between his fingers.

A small pleasure in non-pony disguises; this menagerie of useful pieces that her real body lacked. As much pleasure as she took in her magic, there was such a rush to not having to waste precious energy on basic levitation spells. Let her stay fuller for longer.

She let the piece slip between 'his' fingers, letting it fall for just a moment - before snatching it up in a tight fist.

'He' reached back out.

Clink, tnk - a black piece set in the lower right of the center square. 'He' sat back, folding his arms. 'His' eyes glimmered like the sun on bog water as 'he' stared down 'his' opponent.

"Well?"

#aeinsof #ic .#thread .#v0 .#getting your wretched grandma to play fork knite #me frantically looking up reversi is:

Feeds her sugar cubes lala

#fooltarot #ic .#ask .#crack .#v0 .#SHE CANT EAT SUGARCUBES. STUPED.

rpmemegraveyard

Mun talks about the Muse

Send one of the following to ask the mun… (please specify muse for multis)

✍ Favorite thing about writing the muse? 👀Favorite thing about the muse’s appearance? 🌌Favorite alternate version of the muse? 💕Favorite ship for the muse? 💔Least favorite ship for the muse? 💢Something about the muse that annoys you? 😈Worst thing you’ve ever done to your muse? 😂Funniest thing that’s ever happened to your muse? 💡 What inspires you to write the muse? 📷 Favorite picture/screencap of your muse? 📑 Favorite part of your muse’s backstory? 📝 Favorite headcanon for your muse? 😒 Is there anything canon about your muse that you ignore? 🔮 What do you see in your muse’s future? 🔥 Unpopular opinion about your muse? 💭 Favorite memory of the muse? 😩 Hardest thing about writing the muse? ⌨ What’s a situation you’ve always wanted to RP with the muse? 🎭 How similar are you and the muse?

#prompts .