#well it's implied

[pukner]

ik this isn't scoops era steve but idc ⚓🍨

[rainy-day-wizard]

"Bittersweet memories" I wonder who he's thinking about...

(if you saw my hand in frame, no you didn't, your mind is playing tricks on you /sar)

[ginhaku125-offical]

Random shit because yeah. I think the twins are very friend shaped

Experimenting with my Forsaken artstyle because I want to make it more Roblox-like

Also I drew both of these on my phone at college lmao

[maid-of-heartisms]

Day 27

Answer the question, Dave.

[sunnynwanda]

requesting a hero and villain oneshot that involves helium balloons and squeaky helium voices

Birthday

Warnings: language, miserable Villain (I feel represented). That should be it.

"Villain?!" An overly excited voice rang through the air, reaching an off-pitch crescendo by the end of the last syllable, and then came the swishing noise of an inhalation.

"You have got to be kidding me..." Villain mutters under their breath, but it's too late to escape. Hero has found them... again.

Today has been... challenging, to put it lightly. Never in their life could the resident criminal have predicted Hero's reaction to their birthday. Nor could they have prevented it.

When they mentioned their genuine birthdate on the files the first time they got arrested, they could not fathom the absolute disaster it would unleash. Villain had been doing their best to avoid Hero at all costs because their idiotic opponent woke them up at midnight with a loud alarm screaming bloody murder to wish them an early happy birthday. To say that Villain was pissed would be an understatement.

"Haaaappy Birthday to youuu!" Hero sings in a squeaky voice, the effects of the helium quite prominent in comparison to their usual deep voice.

Hero was determined - Villain had to give them that. Determined to drive me fucking bonkers, Villain thought.  

"Shut it, you damn chipmunk!" They snarl, irritation quite evident in their voice.

Not that Hero gives a damn, as they continue screeching in their annoying off-pitch voice. "Haaappy Birthday, dear Villy, happy birthday to youuuu~"

"Oh, for the love of god..." Villain cannot contain the low groan that escapes them, their eyes rolling into the back of their head.

They are entirely done after being subjected to the aggressive celebration of their birth all day long. It's barely afternoon, and they have already received the midnight message, a monstrosity of a cake first thing in the morning, several bouquets of flowers, presents weapons of all kinds and a bunch of ridiculous birthday gifts, including a teddy bear that sang in Hero's voice and Villain couldn't take it anymore.

So, when Hero comes up behind them on their favourite rooftop, their only safe spot in the whole city, Villain snaps, "Enough!"

Hero flinches, not quite daring to sit beside them, "Vill-" They try, but Villain cuts them off, their frustration spilling over.

"Enough," they snarl, all of the pent-up anger bubbling up to the surface, revealing thoughts they'd never share with Hero otherwise, "I hate my fucking birthday, okay? Just stop!"

Villain sighs, running a hand over their face and shutting their eyes in an attempt to calm down. They half expect Hero to get mad at them for not appreciating the effort, but Hero does not. Instead, they sit beside them on the edge of the roof, speaking in a quiet voice tinged with sadness. "I know."

Villain freezes for a moment, turning to look at their nemesis. When they speak, their voice is thick despite their best attempt to sound nonchalant. "What?"

"I know you don't like this day," Hero elaborates, their gaze trained on the horizon to avoid meeting Villain's eyes. "I know it was never a special day for you. I know."

They turn their head to glance at their opponent's profile. Villain is already looking at them, searching their expression for any sign of pity. Lucky for Hero, they find none. They still don't speak, so Hero continues.

"I just wanted to make it feel special for you," they whisper, anticipating another wave of anger to hit them, but this time, Villain does not lash out at them. Instead, they offer Hero a small smile.

"Thank you," Villain mutters, still stunned but no longer as frustrated as before. "Just please don't ever sing in that god-awful voice," they add with a chuckle, making Hero snort.

"What, you don't want to join?" They ask, lifting up the helium balloon. Villain glares at them, but there's no bite to their tone when they respond.

"Never in a million years. Gimme that!" They demand, poking the balloon and letting out a relieved sigh that it's gone.

"I'm not that bad," Hero snickers, narrowing their eyes at Villain, who sends them a look of utter disbelief. They shake their head, a flicker of disappointment passing through their eyes. "Okay, fine, I suck at singing. Sorry for ruining your birthday."

"Trust me, you did not," Villain assures, tilting Hero's chin to hold eye contact. "This was the most infuriating birthday I've ever had, but it was the best one too."

"Happy birthday," Hero repeats, this time in their natural voice. Somehow, that makes them sound more genuine than the helium voice they had been doing all day.

Villain pauses, pursing their lips as they think for a moment. "I have a gigantic cake and a mountain of presents to unpack. You wanna come over?" They suggest, feeling sheepish yet hopeful.

Hero cannot contain the grin that stretches from ear to ear, excitement dripping from their tone. "Yes!"

Villain chuckles, shaking their head at their beloved nemesis. They might not like their birthday, but they do like Hero. And if a celebration of Villain is what puts that grin on Hero's face... Villain can manage.

Hi darling!

Thank you for the request :) It took some time but I had so much fun writing this that I hope it's okay. I had to turn this into a birthday story, especially because I share Villain's perspective and my birthday is looming xD

P.S. I know I've been kinda MIA recently, but I'm coming back.

Love,

Sunny

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy@alltimelowing@lateuplight@surplus-of-sarcasm@betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood @whumpifi @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444 @m4iloblu3

[yuukei-not-active-here]

What if... humans were raised like livestock?

In a dystopian world where food is scarce, it's become a man eat man world. Rich buy and breed different 'breeds' of people for their meals and the poor kill each other for food, though the majority of them are caught and sold to bidders who plan on keeping them as show-pets.

Would it be wrong to imagine kids playing around with each other while being tied to a mast.... from where people come and take them to slaughter one by one-

Would it be too gruesome to imagine humans being bred to have a few specific high-quality organs for harvesting like how we breed plants for fruit and flowers... imagine them being abnormally large or small or disfigured but being called 'good harvest' by the cultivators, and being sold while being labelled as 'Normal variety', 'Dwarf Variety' or 'Exotic Variety' like how plants are sold—

Butchers would have disfigured bodies hanging and organs laid out on platters... while the rich come and buy them....

Would it be wrong?

For them to only ever know the light where their friends will be waiting for them? Would it be foolish for them to wish for the light to take them back home, where they will never be alone?

•-•-•-•-•-•-•

I've had this idea rotating in my head about a butcher shop selling human meat and that somehow evolved into this while I was reading Biology- ... wAIT DON'T GO I SWEAR I'M COMPLETELY SANE--

@tabsters @chodzacaparodia @c00kietin @dokjas-lostselfpreservation I apologise in advance for this... :')

[orsinium-scholar]

Darkness wrapped around the moorlands like a cloak, a forlorn wind howling through sparse trees. Out there in the wilds, the flicker of a torch was a beacon, illuminating a strange scene.

Two orcs, hooded and cloaked, one a woman with an axe slung over her shoulder, eyes darting distrustfully about, the other a powerfully built man, standing firm and proud as he quietly conversed with a tall breton man, also hooded. Under his arm was a bundle of papers.

"-Cannot guarantee this lands ownership is uncontested. You understand even I have limits in what I can do? The world is not yet ready for what you propose. If I pushed too far, people would ask questions..."

"It's a start." Gortwog grunted, dark eyes focused on the bundle with poorly disguised excitement. "A land I can call my own. A land I can defend...I can work with that, build from there...I owe you, Lysandus."

"Yes, you do." the king said bluntly, as he handed over the papers.

Gortwog smiled and held out a hand, one leader to another. The hands of the king of Daggerfall were silken, nary a callus to mar the skin. The light of the torch threw the handsome lines of his face into sharp relief, shone on the silk of his well-trimmed beard...

Gortwog became aware of the wandering of his eyes, and swiftly took his hand away. Something flickered in Lysandus' eyes, an awareness. Gortwog had not been as subtle as he hoped. The warlord held the gaze and tried not to think of the flush creeping along the back of his neck. The king certainly didn't seem...angry about it...

"Send word when you need the favour called in. My orcs will be at your side. We can promise you much, when the time comes and we are people in the eyes of the law. Soldiers for your army. Weapons and tools from our forge. There is...much we can offer you."

Lysandus smiled.

"Of that, Lord Gortwog, I have no doubt. Good luck."

With the swish of a cloak, the king mounted his horse and was gone.

The other orc relaxed and shot him a look.

"I saw that look, Gortwog. And at some scrawny Breton, have you no shame?"

Her voice was harsh, but her warm eyes betrayed her gentle teasing.

Gortwog chuckled.

"A passing fancy, my beloved." he said, relieved to return to his own familiar language. Cyrodiilic was too fluid on his tongue.

His wife grinned, and he knew he wouldn't hear the end of that for a while. No matter.

He looked down at the documents in his grasp. Somehow, they felt heavy in his hands.

"So that's it? After all this work, it's that simple? Just wave the papers about and the land is ours?" She asked, peering closer.

"It's that simple."

"What strange people...Never thought paper would be stronger than weapons."

"This is not a weapon, beloved. With this, no soldiers can come and kill our little ones, no armies can come and force us off our lands. This...this is a shield. And under it's protection, I can finally build us a kingdom."

He paused, gazing at nothing, before letting out a soft, shaky breath.

"Do you...wish to ride home alone tonight, my chief?"

The papers trembled in strong green hands.

"...Ride ahead, and tell my soldiers to prepare to travel. And have a scout sent to the location and see that we haven't been given wasteland. I will...catch up."

He waited until the sound of her horse faded into the distance, until the wind dried the tears on his face. Only then did he turn to make his way to the encampment, hope riding at his heels.

[fourpsych0]

I don't play Dandy's World. My friend does. She likes Brusha I guess.