Ask prince Artemis and Solaris acc ▶ @prince-solaris
🥝 Pronouns are she/her
🦚 INTP personality
🎗🧩(biologically) autistic
🇩🇪/🇺🇸 Ich spreche etwas Deutsch
💕(bold means current) Fandoms ➭ The Outsiders Thomas the Tank Engine, Star Wars, Harry Potter, Bluey, HTTYD, Transformers(TFA/TFO/TFRB/TFRBA/TFWFC), Sonic, MLP, Wild Kratts, Hello Kitty, Tinkerbell, Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit, Dandy's World, Hetalia
🌺 Safe space/area‼️
🤢 DNI ➪ immature people | Heterophobia | Furryphobia | anyone under 12-13 | NSFW BLOGS | ABDL BLOGS | DARK/PROSHIPPERS | RACISTS/SEXISTS/ABLEISTS |
Both Dru and Gru, Bratt, Lucy, Fritz (love him), Vector, Nun-Chuck, Wild Knuckles, Scarlet Overkill. Robert Gru.
KING BOB ‼️‼️‼️
Love dear little Agnes, but I love all there. Still, Agnes.
Songs? Uh, I have no idea 🥲
Vector, Bratt, Gru(back when he was a villain) and Maxime Le Mal
All of them, maybe?
Kyle.
Between the characters? Gru and Lucy, Maxime as Bratt (Tumblr got me liking this ship)
Gru, Lucy and the gorls; I like their dynamic :3
For DM3, Dru is actually the older brother. Gru's son secretly calls Maxime for villain advice when he's older (as he finds out about the family business).
Theory for DM5: Robert faked his death, Maxime breaks out of prison and teams up with the past enemies of Gru. And it's literally an endgame battle.
Yes, just no art of em yet 🥲
A few. Dru(familial), Maxime and Valentina(platonic/familial), Bella Bottoms(platonic), Lucy Wilde(platonic/familial), Agnes, Lucy and Edith(familial).
Can't think of it.
Gru family mansion in Freedonia (I like history, and the Sistine Chapel is very historical so when the place was based after it, I loved it).
DM, DM3, DM4, Minions, and Rise of Gru
I love Lucy's coat, blue is a favorite color of mine.
Hard, very hard to choose. Probably Vector, Dru or Agnes (Agnes mostly because I'm the youngest in my family, with Dru it's because I act a bit like him). Vector is just me sometimes.
Theatre cup from DM3
None surprisingly.
I don't know what name I'd have, but I know I'd be short like Bob, with (two) hazel green eyes, and, thats about it.
I'd take inspo from my dear love for otters and make it into my suit. I don't know for my villain name. I'd have a lot of stunning guns, and I know I'd live in a base that is hidden by water.
Bratt, he seems to be a fun guy (other than the childish personality). Besides, I'd get good music during heists.
Neutral, but probably villain.
I'd love to cosplay as Margo, Dru or Lucy.
ABSOLUTELY, I LOVE THE GORLS! THEIR SWEETHEARTS 🍪🍪
Could the theory of the FSM being Ras' master be right? I mean, since Wu KNOWS Ras' Master, he'd obviously know his dad (no shi). But the one about the Overlord, and how Wyatt says the user asked a trick question; it's gotta be the FSM (or a hint).
Same goes for if the master exists before time had a name ─ what is the FSM's title at the beginning of the pilot? SIMPLE. Either Ras' Master IS the FSM, or it's someone who is absolutely going to surprise us.
Warnings: hinted smut(in part 2), dark side, stockham syndrome, both are possessive shits, Force being used a little badly. Sith are possessive, cynical lovers, man. That's hot. A bit of sadism; and a lot of toxic one sided love. Referenced explosion and killing. Lightly. They're so toxic later on.
Extra: Kael's species is custom made by me, and will be explained at the very bottom.
Kael was never a fan of crime bosses. Yet the door hissed open, revealing a skeevy underboss Weequay with greasy skin and a gaudy nose ring. Flanking him were Twi’lek enforcers hauling a large shipping container. That made his skin crawl.
None of them looked like they wanted to be here.
At the base, the Twi’leks dropped the crate with a rustic, sharp metallic clang. The underboss planted a foot on top of it. "Payment from the daimyo," he said, flashing rotten teeth. "He says this makes things square between you and him." He nudged the crate with his boot.
With the job done and the crate delivered, the underboss turned and strutted off.
───
The crate hissed as its seal disengaged, opening with a reluctant wheeze. Inside — curled tight, her lekku draped like wilted ribbons — was a blue skinned Twi'lek thin, scarred, silent. She squinted into the harsh hangar light, eyes glassy with exhaustion.
"Are you my new.. master?" She squeaked out, nearly looking more perturbed by your mere gaze. "I.. I'll be good for you. I'll speak when you need me too."
"Speak whenever you wish. I hate slavers. I, was once like you. But for the Jedi. Jedi don't like beings more powerful than them; they kept me hidden." Kael said. "You are not a slave to me, but a caged individual who has been around the wrong crowd. Mongrels I wish to annihilate."
The Twi'lek flinched at the word, her lekku tightening in on themselves. But as Kael spoke, something shifted in her glassy eyes—a flicker of recognition, of understanding. "You were... one of us?" She whispered, testing her legs as she pushed herself up from the crate floor. "A slave, yes?"
"I wanted to save you from another bad master. So, I played pretend with them." Kael tilted their head. "Then I planted a small dentinator on their ship. They'll never see the galaxy again." They sounded a little mad, and proud of themselves.
"You... killed them?" She asked, her eyes widening slightly as she stepped out of the crate. Her thin frame was covered in scars, some faded and some still fresh. Her hands, small and delicate, showed signs of restraints that had been worn for far too long.
"Is that, not good?" Kael asked.
Her head tilted, confusion flickering across her sharp features. "They... they were going to sell me to a spice den." She shivered, lekku coiling tight around her shoulders as if to shield herself.
"I won't be like them. As I was once a slave. You wouldn't believe what many had done once they'd gotten their pathetic hands on me in the under worlds." Kael turned from her. Their eyes were cold, not warm at all, as if they never experienced warmth. She watched the tall, feline silhouette against the harsh hangar lights. Kael's spotted fur, powerful frame—everything screamed predator. But the way they turned, the tension in their shoulders... that spoke of something else entirely.
Someone who had been in her shoes, in her place before.
"They hurt you too," she said softly, more statement than question. "You more." Kael inquired, feeling the fear still within her.
A/N : time to explain what Kael is. Kael is a Bellui, which is a highly Force Sensitive species that looks like an anthropomorphic leopard, but with two small wings on the back. They were hunted down rather viciously during the days of the Old Republic; by both Sith and Jedi (the Jedi will never believe their predecessors were just as bad as the Sith). Kael is aroace, at least when you first meet them. Making this a slow burn, sort of.
The Bellui are powerful, some rumors claim that at one time, they were stronger than the Chosen One. Not many lived to see the full, raw, uncontrolled manner of their Force abilities, as most members of the species barely lived to the final stage.
Bellui according to their legends, could get so big at their final stage in life; planets are the size of grapes compared to just how big they are. The Bellui who reached this stage, and were seen; were called 'Planet Eaters', as they, like Darth Nihlius, used the Force to eat the essence from planets (but Bellui would also then full devour said planet).
Misako and Garmadon happily ready to have their first kiss. Misako leans in, both individuals' heads gently lean against the other; a immediate romantic move. Garmadon looks at her with utter endearment, Misako returns the gaze, she is ready to officially kiss her fiance. The couple leans in, not before Garmadon licked her cheek.
Garmadon: oops.
Misako: 😟
Garmadon is very flustered now, due to his draconian instincts coming out, with a touch of his oni side doing it just as well.
I love @garlicgravy 's post about Garmadon and Misako's first kiss (I think that's what it was).
Synopsis : yandad Knuckles having some binding time with his puggle (young echidna), which involves boxing lessons.
Tw : emotional manipulation, overprotective, other characters are villainized. 🤢Icky do not eat!!🤢
Genre : Fluff / Platonic / Yandere
His rough, gloved hands tangle around with the spines on your head, twisted relatively gently, in a messy lop of quills all outward. Your tomato red quills spiral softly, once he was done, that is.
"Ready?"
"Do I have to learn boxing dad?" The puggle quipped, not meaning to come out snippy. Knuckles' brow scorned, at this—his maw tightening slightly. Too badly his young one noticed. "You will learn boxing, to solely protect yourself—why—are you gonna cling to me like a damned leech forever?" His hands cuffed 'round the younglings' shoulders, if his claws would've been out of the containment of those gloves; there would've been blood already.
"Don't tell me you want that hedgehog to parent you instead—as I'm apparently too rough and vicious for you." He falsely sulked, your face dropped, the tan of your muzzle almost whitening. A gruelling smirk almost tugged at his lip, knowing he had his youngster wrapped around his finger. "I'm only like this, not that I ever AM, because I care for you. Don't be all ungrateful now."
"Sorry. Dad."
"That's better. Master Emerald, you're so damn clingy." Always gotta have your dad breathing down your shoulder. Else he'd lose his mind; by not being able to protect his precious. He always had you plummet the punching bag first, unleash he felt like unnerving you—by going gruesomely vicious at the sand filled bag. It's cover would writhe from every blow he threw at it. "See. Look at this, not even swinging that hard." He gallantly throttled. Mockery swimming outward. "Let me show you." He wailed his fists into the bag, the springs squealed violently.
Oh yeah—now the bag was on the floor due to a gnarly blow as a finale.
"Hit harder wontcha kid..?" He slurred, as your smaller paws patched him up from a grotesque fight with Shadow. A yelling match. Involving you. "Yeah yeah, daddy dearest."
Synopsis : yandad Knuckles having some binding time with his puggle (young echidna), which involves boxing lessons.
Tw : emotional manipulation, overprotective, other characters are villainized. 🤢Icky do not eat!!🤢
Genre : Fluff / Platonic / Yandere
His rough, gloved hands tangle around with the spines on your head, twisted relatively gently, in a messy lop of quills all outward. Your tomato red quills spiral softly, once he was done, that is.
"Ready?"
"Do I have to learn boxing dad?" The puggle quipped, not meaning to come out snippy. Knuckles' brow scorned, at this—his maw tightening slightly. Too badly his young one noticed. "You will learn boxing, to solely protect yourself—why—are you gonna cling to me like a damned leech forever?" His hands cuffed 'round the younglings' shoulders, if his claws would've been out of the containment of those gloves; there would've been blood already.
"Don't tell me you want that hedgehog to parent you instead—as I'm apparently too rough and vicious for you." He falsely sulked, your face dropped, the tan of your muzzle almost whitening. A gruelling smirk almost tugged at his lip, knowing he had his youngster wrapped around his finger. "I'm only like this, not that I ever AM, because I care for you. Don't be all ungrateful now."
"Sorry. Dad."
"That's better. Master Emerald, you're so damn clingy." Always gotta have your dad breathing down your shoulder. Else he'd lose his mind; by not being able to protect his precious. He always had you plummet the punching bag first, unleash he felt like unnerving you—by going gruesomely vicious at the sand filled bag. It's cover would writhe from every blow he threw at it. "See. Look at this, not even swinging that hard." He gallantly throttled. Mockery swimming outward. "Let me show you." He wailed his fists into the bag, the springs squealed violently.
Oh yeah—now the bag was on the floor due to a gnarly blow as a finale.
"Hit harder wontcha kid..?" He slurred, as your smaller paws patched him up from a grotesque fight with Shadow. A yelling match. Involving you. "Yeah yeah, daddy dearest."
༼🐍༽ ☞ : Riddle Brothers + Slytherin Gang x sister! Oc
Tw : tiny mention of bullying, the Slytherin's being overprotective
Genre : Fluff / Platonic
Pairing : Riddle brothers, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, Lorenzo Berkshire, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson x Saoirse (oc)
Saoirse, didn't like the beginning of her second Hogwarts year, everyone around her seemed to avoid her to some, degree. Many of her own house were more - daring. Daring in the bad way; vicious with their vexed actions against her, all because she was the daughter of the Dark Lord.
She wouldn't be like her father, she knew it, she prayed she wouldn't be, it'd be her biggest regret if she ever would become one of his, little posse. Her dark curls flutter to her eyes, as Pansy sat with her in the common room.
"How are you, liking your classes, snakelet?" The sixth year mused, her hands carefully combing at the youngest Riddles' hair. Gently and potentially making small braids, or, something, rather; comforting.
".. Good."
"Good? Usually you're more, elaborate with your words." She rutted, "something, on your mind. I won't tell your, overprotective gits for brothers." Pansy half promised.
Saoirse stayed quiet, her lip a narrow line. Disdainful.
"Snakelet." Pansy ushered, with a drawn sigh, "you can tell me." Almost pleading, gently demanding some answer.
Mattheo's knuckles whiten, though his face, now, had darkened drastically. No longer go-lucky happy. Loathing over their sisters situation, only imagined that Tom was secretly having the same rampage of agitated aromas within the mind as well.
"Those bloody fools best have no idea what'll happen later." He heard Lorenzo scorn aloud, "sure you don't trust us to help?" Mattheo's face went back to cheery, making the common room grow dreadful.
"Oh. Me and Tom are willing to - get our hands a little dirty." He chided, earning some strands of reluctance fueled nods.
"Right, brother?"
"Gladly. My Basilisk could use some extra, nutrition." He would've laughed, truly would, it'd be a horrific noise to leave the Heir of Slytherin's lips.
Mattheo's brow quirked, just noticing the faintest flicker of Tom's lips. A sadistic grin almost flushed onto his brother's face. Amusing.
Saoirse was swept off her hinds when Mattheo clasped ahold of her as he and Tom had walked past her in the corridor. Their friends were nearby, gaping softly. "Mattheo!" She chirped, her lean, youthful arms coiling around him. His hand gently rubbed her shoulder.
"Has it healed."
"Better now. I, must ask - I haven't seen them in the house's common room for - awhile now. Would you two have known where they went?" Her beaded eyes exhilarate, as they both interlocked. "Mhm. We can't say we have," he started out, she wouldn't find out. Not at all.
"Don't fret over your enemies, sister." Tom forcefully assured, making her soothe. "They're gone now, isn't that enough. You shouldn't be worried about where they went."
