#fierda ic

[gneerly]

Fierda what is the best part of Ankhou's jacket?

MD: "t-the way it's a-all filled with w-wool, and i-it's too big, a-and it always smells like h-him... it's nice."

[gneerly]

Fierda what is your opinion on nice warm jackets?

“t-they’re the best!! e-especially ankhou’s!”

[gneerly]

♥‿♥ Fierda

♥‿♥: tell us about your crush!

“O-Oh, um, I-I don’t... I don’t really have one, a-a-actually... Um, b-birds are pretty... pretty cool, though.”

[gneerly]

13 & 18 for Fierda!

13: Is there anybody right now you’d like to have sex with?

“U-Um... n-no...?”

18: Are you into dressing up for sex?

“W-what does that even.... w-what does that m-mean.”

[gneerly]

Fierda what is your favorite type of weather?

“a-ah, um... i like s-sunny weather a lot, b-but i also like r-rain because it’s g-good for my plants... i-it’s a little hard to c-choose, honestly!”

[gneerly]

sonneillon for Fierda

sonneillon: do you hate anyone?

“U-Um, n-not really! H-Hate is a s-strong word, a-and it doesn’t feel g-good.”

[gneerly]

Would you rather have Fierda have a pet kiwi or a pet penguin?

"U-Um, kiwis a-are p-pretty cu-ute... m-maybe t-that?"

[gneerly]

Lived long enough to become the villain for fierda the burb queen

i was just talking about this au with chris last night..... B)

A small sparrow perches low on a branch in the midst of an expansive, thick forest. Its glowing golden feathers ruffle in the cool night's air, and wide, unblinking eyes flit this way and that as it scans the surrounding area. Waiting, silently.

The silence is broken by heavy panting and hard footsteps as a small oliveblood stumbles at a run through the bushes and branches that stand in his way. There's fear-- no, there's terror written on his scratched, bleeding face, and sweat makes his hair cling to his forehead despite how cold the temperature is. His breathing is labored and wheezes loudly, and several panicked glances over his shoulder indicate his running is not merely for sport.

The sparrow's eyes fix on the frightened figure below, and slowly, it spreads its wings and takes off from its perch to soar after the fleeing lowblood. Only when it flies ahead and into view does the boy notice, letting out a strangled sound of dismay and tripping over himself in an attempt to change his course. He lands facedown in the mud and leaves, gasping hoarsely while the source of his fear flutters down to land on the ground in front of his face.

"No...," he whispers, attempting to push himself away. "Please. I'm sorry."

The bird's gaze is unfaltering, staring him down without a sound for several long moments until its golden glow begins to intensify. Gradually, it becomes brighter and brighter, and it loses its form to something completely ambiguous-- mere psionic energy, hovering in the air loosely while the olive troll cowers, too frightened to move.

In an instant, all of the energy lunges forward, and as the boy opens his mouth to scream, it jumps into his mouth, down his throat, filling his lungs and expanding. It expands, and expands, and grows brighter and brighter... until the quiet forest is once again smothered in a dark, heavy silence without a living soul to inhabit it.

--

Somewhere far away, in a darkened throne room, you emit a low, satisfied hum, and the bright glow in your eyes fades as your vision and consciousness return to where you physically are. Blinking slowly, you draw in a deep breath and smile, turning your gaze to the figure whose lap you're perched in.

"There we go," you purr, shifting your weight to lean comfortably against him. "I think he's learned his lesson, sir."