tiny plushies

N. BB

Alright, serious talk… I dont know if you know, but I don’t like re-design characters…. (?).

I mean! I like to re-draw them with a better artstyle from my side! I love to see my old shit and re-draw characters/gijinkas/personifications! The changes are mostly in the art style that the desing. 

Re-desing a character or personification is not something bad! I think I dont like to do it because I get attached to the design once I drew it… but I didnt get attached to the design of Nightmare Balloon Boy.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I based his design in his canonverse form- yes- like I usually do… but I found a big problem his mouth, his huge mouth to his little head @m@ and his tiny form that is not so tiny to be a plushie, but not big enough to be a nightmare… at first I didnt care… I just say to myself “his desing is there, now leave the pre-teen there, is not like you are going to use them much"………….. ………….. but hey, guess who need this fuckboy nowwww (??).

I didn’t use Nightmare BB in the AU that much because.. well, his design is pretty fucking HARD to do with the mouth condition… and with the hat I don’t have the freedom to mess with his hair so I was like “eh”… then, the Japanese High School AU happen and I was like  “alright alright… I add all the gang, I can’t leave him behind” and I got the “freedom” of do him more “human” and not so “animatronic”… and I ended up drawing this.

The moment I saw him with a hairstyle and another proportions… I fell love, the love of a creator for their creations [in this case gijinkas- Cawthon own all the fucking franquice I know(??)] and I… wanted to do more with his character, but drawing him is a pain in the ass, you have no idea.

I think I give up at some point with the “consistence of the desing” because aaaaa

I feel frustrated of discover what I can DO with him and I couldnt do it!!!

…. so…. @askbonnieboy kindly kill this fuckboi… now now, Nightmares can’t really die in this verse, they are already dead! this is their purgatory! but that doesn’t mean they can’t feel pain, suffer or get so damaged than, when they regenerate they look a little bit different…

So… yeah pre-teen fuckboi died… because he regenerate and now he is

Full teenager

I hope you understand why I made this change and don’t mind that I re-desing him ;v; /)

Familiar


Pairing: Nalu

Rating: K+

Genre: Friendship and romance

Summary: The tiny stuffed toy was her treasure - a little demon that had helped her through good times and bad. And suddenly there he was, breathing, walking, talking, emoting. And asking for a kiss. 

Notes: This drabble poured out as soon as I laid eyes on <<this>> wonderful art by @liku-bears!

It was probably the only really meaningful gift from her father in recent times. It wasn’t much — just a tiny little demon plushie. It could have easily been lost in thousands of other dresses and jewellery that he had also sponsored for her.

Had it not been for the fact the toy was a small reminder of happier times. And of her parents’ love.

One of her fondest childhood memories were of when they would all cuddle together in bed while her mother told stories. In particular, one of a tiny demon that saved lost little kids, only to be misunderstood by the children’s parents when they saw him with them. Her father would supply the dialogues for the angry people, while her mother would do those for the little children and the demon.

Lucy felt for the demon, and protested, insisting that she would have done her best to protect it had she had the chance. Her mother had been so pleased with the suggestion, that she would weave a Lucy into the story to do just that - and she would get to do her own dialogues. And they would go on and on until Jude reminded them of it being past bedtime.

Storytime had been her favourite way to spend time with her family - it was the one time her father and mother could take a break from their royal duties and spend time with her.

Her mother’s sudden loss had been very hard on her and her father, and his subsequent attempts to cope had really dented their relationship. Lucy, now at sixteen years, still couldn’t remember the last time she and her father had really spoken.

The plushie, gifted to her on her tenth birthday, two years after losing her mother, was a small reminder that despite all the evidence that went against it, her father really did care.

She had taken extremely good care of the soft toy ever since. It had a special place beside her pillow at night-time and was the last thing she saw when she went to bed and the first when she woke up. She would talk to it every day — share tales of her day, people she met, things she learnt. She would laugh with it and cry holding it. It was her closest friend, and had been for years now.

Even if it never had it replied back.

Not till right now anyway.

Lucy, the ever graceful celestial princess of Magnolia, fell rather clumsily on her bum when it — he — suddenly spoke.

“Woah, there! You okay?” came the tiny voice again, as the now animated toy (person?) leaned over the bed to ensure she was okay.

“Y-y-you’re talking!”

“Hell yeah I am!” he grinned. “Finally.”

“B-b-but you’re a toy!”

“Oi, I’m a demon!“ His face tilted to one side. "And you’ve always told me you’re a polite person. Lies!”

Lucy blinked disbelievingly, as the little toy crossed his arms and huffed.

She crawled on her knees back to the edge of her bed to peek at the toy, see for herself if he really was…real.

And while the demon kept his back to her, pouting sulkily, she brought a finger to poke him in the side.

“Hey,” he warned.

Poke.

“Hey!” His back still faced her.

Poke.

“Would you— ” he got cut off as Lucy — in a bid to try and confirm once more that felt had indeed given way to flesh — unintentionally began tickling him.

“S-sorry,” she said, not really that sorry. His laughter was heart-warming.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay,” he said, once he’d caught his breath.

“And what are you going to do about it?” Lucy challenged.

He pouted again and Lucy couldn’t help but giggle.

“I didn’t intend to tickle you, if that helps,” she added.

“You’re mean, Luce,” he grumbled.

Lucy raised an eyebrow. “Luce?”

“Well yeah, that’s what I’ve always called you,” he said, rolling away to make room for Lucy to climb and sit on her bed.

“You were listening the whole time?” she asked in wonder.

“Yup,” he replied.

Keep reading