#i'm very proud of this idea !! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whumperfultime · 4 months

Text

Tarot-Inspired Whump Prompts

I'm enthusiastic about both whump and tarot and those interests were bound to collide at some point. So I wrote a list of writing prompts inspired by the Major Arcana! Five prompts for each card, so there should be something for everyone. Enjoy!

(Also, if you happen to write anything based on any of these, feel free to tag me! I'd be honored to read it.)

The Fool: Accidental whump. Misplaced trust. Leap of faith. Taking a risk. Falling from a high place.

The Magician: Magical whump. Manipulation. Mind control. A charismatic and confident character. A table full of tools for inflicting pain.

The High Priestess: Keeping secrets. Blindfolded whumpee relying on their other senses. Guarding something or someone. Intuitively noticing when something or someone has changed. Cult setting/dynamics.

The Empress: Gilded cage. Lady whump (if you're into that). Comfort in material things. Gentle caretaker. Whumpee not used to experiencing abundance and safety.

The Emperor: Strict whumper and/or strict rules. Royal whump. Wartime. Stoic leader trying to remain calm for the sake of their team. High security.

The Hierophant: Religious whump. Institutionalized whump. Punished for questioning authority. Pressure to conform. Power leading to corruption.

The Lovers: Yandere whump. Sadistic choice. Forced to watch. Protectiveness. Multiple whumpees, whumpers, caretakers, etc.

The Chariot: Car crash. On the run. Kidnapped and forced into a vehicle. Lost and stranded. Unwanted and distressing thoughts.

Strength: Whumpee turned caretaker or whumper. Monster character. Patient caretaker. Animal attack. Emotional support animal.

The Hermit: Isolation. Sensory deprivation. Neglect. Feeling like an outcast. Going into hiding.

Wheel of Fortune: Bad luck. Time heals all wounds. Long-term captivity. Painful anniversaries. Wrong place, wrong time.

Justice: Whumper being arrested. Detached/indifferent whumper or caretaker. Wrongful imprisonment. Privileges vs. punishments. Shutting off emotions so logic can take over.

The Hanged Man: Stress position. Caught in a net. Restrained and abandoned. Hanging. Standing cuffs.

Death: Grief. Recovery milestones. Immortal whumpee dying over and over. Left behind. Visiting a grave.

Temperance: Drugged whumpee. Personality changes due to trauma. Angel character. Poisoning. Mad scientist whumper.

The Devil: Demon character. Sadistic whumper. Addiction and unhealthy coping mechanisms. Pet whump. Collared.

The Tower: Building collapse. Struck by lightning. Drastic change. A character being overpowered. Shocking revelation or betrayal.

The Star: Bathing (whether this is peaceful or whumpy is up to you). Drowning. Finally being able to rest. Anything having to do with recovery. Dehydration.

The Moon: Nightmares. Lost in the woods. Werewolf character. Illusions or hallucinations. Running on pure survival instinct.

The Sun: Sunburn. Public figure whumpee. Forced to perform. First time outside after being held captive. Heatstroke.

Judgement: Revenge. Sound torture. Deity character. Punishment. Resurrected from the dead.

The World: Endings (positive or negative). Breaking the cycle of abuse. Overwhelmed by choices. Regaining personal autonomy. Closure and acceptance (or lack thereof).

#whump prompts #whump ideas #whump community #whumpblr #this was really fun to make and i'm very proud of the finished result #if i get really brave maybe i'll post a scene or story of my own someday

320 notes · View notes

rad-roche · 4 months

Text

a while back i took a stab at painting garrett in the style of cédric peyravernay, who you may recognise from the dishonored series. it's been some time, so i thought i'd do a paintover to track my progress

here's the original, from about a year and a half ago

#rochedotpng #thief the dark project #thief the metal age #garrett #dishonored #i remember being very proud of that first one #makin progress. i'll tell you this for free: i'm not where i want to be but i'm a damn sight closer than i was #if you have no idea who this is then do i have a smash hit video game series for you #(thief is fantastic)

117 notes · View notes

cyberscratch · 9 months

Text

Rattman

#GOT SOME NEW MARKERS AND SUCH SO I HAD SOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS ONE #I've been meaning to do a big portal fanart piece for a LONG TIME but I never had ideas... Until now!!#I'm VERY proud of this piece I hope you guys like jt #Fun fact I didn't know how to draw his other leg so UhhhhHh that's why the rubble/garbage is there lol #Anyways I need to draw TOOOOONTOOOWNNN after this #HEEHEE...!#Portal #Portal 2 #Doug rattman #Glados #Chell #Traditional #Guz art #[2023]#The camera quality does not do this justice btw #Also it's inspired by that one drawing of him in the comic btw

267 notes · View notes

robotgirldiode · 3 months

Text

Honeymother

content warning: oviposition, eggpreg

Summary: Cerise prepares herself for a sacred ritual, dedicating her body for her Goddess and carrying the next generation of Her children.

Cerise rose early on the day she was to take her Goddess' blessing.

She had been excused from her day's duties -- other priestesses would be taking her place, for this day and the next forty. But there was much preparation to do, and the ritual took place in the morning.

She dressed quickly, not bothering to tame her hair, and passed through the back ways of the Temple from the dormitories to the Honeymother's antechamber. As she walked, she trailed her fingers along the smooth, waxy soapstone the whole structure was carved out of. She felt it under her fingertips, looked at how it caught the light and almost appeared to glow from within.

Cerise never got tired of the beauty she lived in with her Goddess, and she never wanted to take it for granted.

The antechamber was empty when she arrived, but a small meal had been left on a side table: honeyed flatbread and sweet, tart skyfruit. Cerise ate methodically, not really able to focus on the taste in her mounting excitement. The other priestesses designated as her attendants filed in before she was done, all clad in their soft yellow formal robes.

Tek was the only mellikin among them. She twitched her antennae at Cerise in greeting as she entered. The other two were human -- Dinna, who had received the blessing the previous year, and Summer, who hadn't yet been chosen.

The three of them readied the bath, heating it with a whisper of divine magic, pouring scented oils into it that made Cerise's head swim, scattering the petals of flowers Cerise didn't recognize. She was used to quick showers; this was a level of luxury she wasn't sure she was comfortable with. But it was all part of the process, and all worth it in the end.

Cerise shucked off her robe, hoping to outrun her shyness about her body in her haste, and sank down into the water. Dinna began washing her hair, and Tek took to scrubbing her.

That made sense. Cerise was hopeful that her wife would be chosen as an attendant, and Tek’s presence calmed her like no other. On the other hand, Cerise was a little afraid that Summer was resentful of her for being chosen. Tek, as the Goddess' daughter herself, could not be so blessed, and wouldn't be prone to such jealousy, and Dinna had already been granted the Honeymother’s blessing.

(Just anxious nerves, perhaps. But Cerise swore she could see a tension in Summer's back as she prepared the ceremonial robes.)

"Cerise," Tek said in a quiet buzz. "Are you feeling alright?"

"A little nervous," Cerise said.

Mellikin's segmented eyes were notoriously hard for humans to read emotion in, but Cerise had long practice. The way Tek held her antennae, the set of the plates on her face -- all spoke to devotion and concern. She continued scrubbing methodically with three hands, but she ran the fourth down Cerise's side. The chitin of her hands, striped the same subtle black and yellow as the rest of her, was surprisingly soft, and she had as much practice touching Cerise as Cerise had reading her emotions.

Cerise shuddered in pleasure, closing her eyes. "Tek..."

"It's all right," Tek said. She held Cerise and washed her more intimate areas -- her small breasts, the little fold of her stomach, her hardening cock. It was caring and sensual, and her body responded, but it wasn't a prelude to anything. It was just care and love, expressed as touch.

Finally, the two priestesses doing the bathing hauled Cerise out of the tub. She fought for her balance, wooziness descending on her in the heat and the flower smell and the touch of her lover. They dried her off and wrapped her hair up into a beautiful scarf, patterned with hexagons. The Honeymother's symbol.

There was more dressing, but not much. It would be a little counterproductive for what laid ahead.

Finally, wrapped in a silk robe and leaning on Tek for support, Cerise faced the door to the Goddess' bedchambers, adorned with a simple trio of hexagons picked out in gold against the ebony wood. She stepped forward, and knocked once.

The door swung open.

She entered, trailed by her attendants, head straight forward.

Kzaia, the Honeymother, looked like her children the mellikin, but she was unmistakably a goddess. Tek and her siblings were built to human scale; Kzaia was nearly eight feet tall. Tek's eyes were beautifully iridescent; the Honeymother's were so radiant, unreal rainbows on black, that Cerise couldn't look away.

"Good morning, beloved," Kzaia said, a throaty buzz, a sound that shook the foundations of Cerise's soul. She smiled -- not what a human would call a smile, but the pleased, loving expression particular to her insectoid form.

(It was one she wore often. What would a goddess such as the Honeymother have to be unhappy about?)

"Good morning, your radiance," Cerise said, bowing her head slightly, then back up to look Kzaia in the eyes.

Kzaia wasn't wearing any clothing, as was her usual. Her torso was humanoid, without breasts but with the curves of hips, and with four slender arms that nevertheless looked strong. She stepped forward, crossing the space to Cerise in three strides. Kzaia's wings were folded, but they fluttered slightly as she walked. Cerise had to tilt her head up to hold her gaze.

"Cerise," Kzaia said. "I have chosen you to take my blessing. Do you swear now, before your Goddess and your sisters of the cloth as witnesses, that this is what you desire? My gift to you, to this world, can only flourish if accepted with a free heart and a clear mind."

They were words Cerise was familiar with, a rhythm she had heard when she had attended a blessing previously.

"Yes," she said. "More than anything in the world."

Kzaia reached out a single hand and cupped Cerise's cheek. "Beautiful," she said. "Then, let's begin."

Cerise was led to the bed in the center of the room. It was circular and very tall; tall enough that Cerise would have had trouble climbing into it on her own. Kzaia just picked her up (Cerise let out a squeak of surprise) and set her down on the edge.

"Tek," Kzaia said. "The jelly, please."

Tek stepped forward, holding a small wooden bowl carved with a hexagonal motif. Kzaia took it from her and handed it to Cerise. Tek smiled at her before taking her place with the other priestesses bearing witness.

Cerise looked at the quivering royal jelly in the bowl. She was used to the stuff; she was one of many priestesses who ate a monthly dose of it to treat different ailments. In her case, it reversed the awful effects puberty had taken on her.

That was the strongest memory Cerise had of Kzaia. Meeting her for the first time, a wild half-starved runaway girl, face covered in shaving nicks because blood was better than hair, requesting asylum in the temple because her family had ensured she had no other options save death. Kzaia had come out to meet her personally, spoken to her, called her by her real name. Then she had stepped out of sight for a moment and came back with a small blob of clear jelly on her fingers. She explained what it did, asked if Cerise wanted it even with the responsibilities it came with.

The changes hadn't been instant, not like the flashy magic that some said other gods had. But they had saved Cerise's life.

This jelly looked a little different, and Cerise knew it would act immediately.

She swallowed it in three mouthfuls.

It was a stronger taste than the usual jelly she took, a sensory overload that flooded her mind. The heat in her cheeks spilled down her throat, into her belly, into her groin.

Something was changing, inside her. A temporary renovation, something that would sustain her for the weeks that she would bear the Honeymother's blessing, that would make her suitable as a vessel. It also spread warmth outward, upward – a tingling in her limbs, an electric thrum in her cock. She felt herself harden again, almost painfully.

"Show me," Kzaia said after a moment.

Cerise wanted to respond, but her body would only moan. She untied the robe with shaky hands and slipped her arms out of it so she was sitting on it like a blanket, fully nude before her goddess. Her head was too full of heat to worry about what she looked like.

"Beautiful," Kzaia said, taking Cerise's length in one hand.

"Nnnnnn," Cerise said. "My goddess..."

Kzaia continued stroking her gently, sending lightning directly to her core; with her other upper hand she played with Cerise's breasts, adding thunder to the lightning. Her lower hands gripped Cerise's ankles firmly.

"You're going to be such a good vessel for me, aren't you?" Kzaia asked.

"Yes," Cerise breathed. "Please."

Cerise closed her eyes, but there was a mischievous tone to Kzaia's voice. "Please what, my beloved?"

"P-please," Cerise said again. "Please fill me."

Kzaia stepped back. The lack of touch felt like ice in comparison to the heat raging under her skin, but Cerise stamped down the disappointment and looked up at her goddess. Kzaia held one hand to the folds between her legs, buzzing in concentration. Soon something began to emerge.

Kzaia's ovipositor came out slowly. It was smooth, tapered, and glossy black like her eyes, with a little forked tip. Despite having attended before, Cerise had never gotten a close look at it.

It was nearly as long as her forearm, although not quite as thick. Ordinarily, the size of it would have made Cerise a little nervous. But all she could hear was the jelly whispering to her, smothering her anxiety in a thick layer of lust.

"Please," Cerise said. "I want all of that inside me."

"Lucky you," Kzaia said. "I want that too."

She stepped forward and grabbed Cerise's thighs again, forcing them apart a little roughly. With another hand, she reached under Cerise's cock to her hole, dipping a finger in. Cerise realized with a start that there was a puddle on the robe underneath her. She wasn't just dripping, she was actively gushing, and Kzaia's finger went in with no resistance.

It was an odd feeling, something that would never happen without the jelly. But it felt so correct, and even a single one of the Honeymother's fingers lit her brain up like a firework.

"Good," Kzaia said. "You're ready."

She didn't hesitate at all. After all, why would she, when she knew what the jelly's effects were, when she knew how badly Cerise wanted to be impaled? And so she lined up with Cerise's achingly empty ass and thrust forward in one smooth, deliberate motion.

Cerise shouted, and the shout became a moan. The soft lights around her fuzzed and the edges of her vision went grey. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before, like nothing she could possibly describe. She felt like she was being unmade, remade, perfected.

“Good girl,” Kzaia said. She stayed buried halfway in Cerise, the only motion the occasional slight twitch of her hips. The soft vibration of the Honeymother’s voice, the sincere warmth of her praise, was almost as intense as the ovipositor inside her.

One upper hand stroked Cerise’s cheeks, breasts, the sensitive spot beneath her jaw. The other softly teased the underside of Cerise’s cock, and was already sticky and webbed with how much she was dripping. The lower pair still gripped her ankles, tight enough to excite her, not quite enough to be painful.

And Kzaia’s eyes… they were deep enough to fall into.

Kzaia fell into a steady cadence of thrusting into her, and Cerise's breaths became irregular as if there could only be so much rhythm between the two of them and Kzaia was using it all up. She might have spoken, she couldn't really tell, but if she did it was just gibberish. Words were no use to a mortal body trying to process the divine.

Cerise keened as she reached her first climax, spurting thin clear come onto her belly. Kzaia paused, scooped it up on one finger, and popped it into her own mouth.

"Only fair, beloved," she said, the edges of her voice a little ragged in a way Cerise had never heard before, a slightly mortal edge of lust to the godly presence of the Honeymother. "After all, you took some of mine."

Seeing her offering accepted by her goddess in such a way almost sent Cerise over the edge again all on its own, but when she started going again, harder and faster this time, it was a certainty.

Cerise lost count. The orgasms didn't quite blend together but lost their sharpness; they were just high tides in a regular cycle of divine pleasure. There was no marker of time passing, just the waves of bliss and the feeling of Kzaia inside her, until she heard a voice.

"The first egg is coming," Kzaia said. "Do you want to see it?"

Cerise struggled up to her elbows. Her eyes took a second before she was able to see anything other than stars, but she wanted to see this, she needed to see it.

There was a bulge at the base of Kzaia's ovipositor, slowly moving forward with each thrust. It was about the size of a fist. Cerise's eyes widened.

Something happened deep inside Cerise, a movement she couldn't quite process, and suddenly Kzaia fell forward, almost to the hilt, bringing that egg right up to the entrance. Cerise didn't know how there was enough room inside her for the entire ovipositor, let alone the egg, and surely her opening wasn’t wide enough for it to…

The egg popped inside her with a sudden jolt, and the world went white with pleasure.

She could feel it settle deep inside her as Kzaia started thrusting again.

"Good girl," Kzaia said. "You're going to hold these for me so beautifully."

The second egg was much the same as the first, but the third came with no resistance. Cerise screamed, and even Kzaia moaned in pleasure with each egg that she planted deep in Cerise’s core.

Finally, Kzaia pulled out with a splash of come and egg fluid. "Six," she said. "You've been blessed with six of my children. How lovely."

Cerise shuddered. Her cock was a soft, dripping, aching wreck from coming so many times in succession; parts of her were sore that she didn't even know could be sore. "Th--" she said. She coughed, her throat raw, and tried again. "Thank you. Kzaia."

Kzaia held her hips in two hands and bent down to kiss her on the stomach. "Don't try to move for a little while," she said. "You won't need to eat or go to the washroom while you're carrying them. Four weeks while they mature and are ready to be laid. And then you'll need to recuperate for a couple weeks, most likely. You'll stay right here in bed; either I'll take care of you, or when I'm detained, your wife will. Tek?"

Tek came forward again, smiling brightly. Cerise reached one shaky hand out and she took it in two of her own. "Yes?"

"You'll be sleeping in here for the time being. I don't sleep, but I'll be around when I don't have other duties."

She started to explain to both her and Tek what would be required, but the exhaustion caught up with her in a rush. The words were swallowed by white noise as Cerise closed her eyes and fell into sleep.

She dreamed of honey.

#i don't write a lot of smut but I'm proud of this one #I feel like it's very me -- an idea that would be extremely offputting to normies but presented as sweet as possible

62 notes · View notes

fras-redacted-shapes · 2 months

Text

Alright let's go - Ramblings regarding Saga, in comparison to Jesse and "The World"

if anyone feels like expanding on any point please do, I'm gonna leave this text as it is because otherwise it's gonna torment me for weeks

I don't recall in which interview, a couple writers said Casey was developed because Saga needed someone to bounce ideas off of and/or because she needed something to externalize her personality without relying on awkward exposition (or something along those lines).

And that's kind of noticeable if you compare Saga's and Jesse's treatment from a writing/presentation stand point:

Jesse as a character is far more obscure and details about her inner life are limited, while Saga is established and very detailed without relying on exposition.

Jesse, from a technical standpoint, suffers the "new character introducing an audience to a new IP" syndrome if you will.

Jesse's past is presented in vague details and a general sense of direction: finding Dylan who is a stranger to the audience. Her inner monologue is to Polaris and it works as exposition but by Polaris' nature there's no back and forth.

When Jesse talks to a character it is always a one-to-one conversation, and an important portion those are about the history of the FBC, asking questions that require exposition. Not to mention there's no interaction between the main cast other than with Jesse.

Some information can be inferred from Jesse's "epilogue" lines after the end of the game. But that's about it regarding the main text.

And that goes in line with the thematic difference I feel between Control and Alan Wake games - the former (heh) is about The World, the later, about the people in it.

Overall it can feel quite isolated and lonely, or well, mechanical. You have to fill in a lot of info yourself. And I believe the writers identified this and tried to change where they could with Foundation and AWE - with the way Jesse and Emily are far more comfortable with each other as they joke and tease during their dialogue, and getting a deeper look into my beloved Langston's personality (which is quite self-aware because lmao, finally it's Jesse who's at the end of a one-way "conversation").

But Saga's has an already established and rich life before the story and details bleed all through the text.

A partner and friend she's known for years and their history is spoken and written, there's no need to infer and fill in details yourself that much.

Their relationship is detailed enough in "side tidbits" (all of her Mind Place stuffs) and in actual conversations, which often enough involve a third party.

Casey works as exposition for Saga's character but, by virtue of Casey being character apart from Saga, the information is introduced far more organically (and arguably, in a more detailed way).

Remedy also gave Saga a huge advantage Jesse didn't have: The Collectible and Missions menus are hers.

So not only we get to hear Saga's thoughts on the current situation, we also get a sneak peek into her mind and inner life.

Some people in Saga's life also have a detailed enough history that they stand on their own rather than solely working as Saga's motivation because the story requires them to be at stakes.

Dylan is, technically, a stranger to Jesse, she's clinging to the past idea of him: we are motivated to find Dylan because we're told to care about him. While Logan and Casey are present in Saga's life and we get more details upfront to care for them.

Saga got curious, shit started to go down and we want them to be safe because otherwise it'd be painful for Saga.

Unlike the ghosts that Trench and Darling were to Jesse, Saga gets to actually talk to Tor and Odin. And well, the entire plot of the game is her undoing and confronting Alan's work on her life, rather than cleaning the mess done by the previous administration that are now gone and cannot be held accountable for.

And I suppose that's another improvement in the writing: the Hiss as the antagonist force is basic (and if you've played Mass Effect they're nothing new, and to me they're the least interesting part of the wolrdbuilding). There's not much room to maneuver, so Jesse's got one way to fight them (so far).

Saga could've gone several ways in dealing with Wake, and we see her struggle when she's about to give the Clicker to Alan/Scratch, she didn't mince her words in that confrontation and she had all the right to go even further. And yet she kept it together, unwilling to fully give herself to despair.

AND!

She chose compassion in the end!

And, honestly? Their final conversation is such a good and rich detail.

Saga's motherhood could've remained as basic reminders to the player that she has a daughter who's the victim and that's your motivation girl! As well as her silly jokes because parents do that sometimes teehee.

Saga's compassion is informed by her motherhood but not limited to it. As a mother she knows that everyone needs someone who believes in them unconditionally, as a daughter she knows how good a reminder of your good qualities can be, and as a detective she knows how to gather, read and act on information.

So when she reminds Alan that he had defeated the Dark Presence before and that he can do it again, she's not saying it because she's desperate, and she's not being patronizing due to Alan's loneliness and isolation.

She's saying because it's true.

And she doesn't rub his missteps and mistakes on his face. She knows how to get the point across without being mean.

She needed very little guidance: information to fill in the blanks of her life from Tor and Odin, short and vague phone calls from Alice, and a portal to the Writer's Room from Ahti. (Rose's lunchboxes were technically not necessary but she gets a honorable mention.) I don't know if there's enough information to conclude whether the reminders that helped her find a way out of the Mind Place were sent by someone else or came solely from her own resilience, and either would be neat, but I would like to think there's someone who's been looking out for her the same way she's been looking out for other characters.

And she's not flawless, but in working her flaws I believe the writers treated her with well deserved respect. She's not a caricature and the story has enough characters being tortured, any more and it'd feel cruel and it'd be permission granted by the horror genre anyways (although, to be honest, I believe Cynthia's treatment was a tiny bit too cruel and that's mostly due the last stage of her boss fight).

I love her first conversation with Norman because she's being a bit patronizing (I believe that's the correct word?), but he's like, nope! No dementia here! Not cool you brought it up :]

Her Nightmare Mind Place is as explicit as it gets. And the few times she loses it are not unearned. I love it when she gets frustrated with Rose and her "Oh fuck this", as well as her pained "My daughter is dead because of you. What is wrong with you?" to Alan in the holding cells.

Her biggest flaw is being a fed.

She's an extremely well put together person and integral, rich character. Her pain and suffering are palpable and the developers did an excellent job in showing it without being cruel (or well, knowing where to place the cruelty *cough* the white man *cough*).

And that's, in general, where I'd call attention to the leaps in improvement to Remedy's writing, right alongside the development and treatment Alice got, and the departure that is from Marshall in Control (the one character of color of any sort of relevance to the story, who got the least dialogue or details about her life and involvement despite being part of the old guard, and that gets killed in the end).

I have the same criticism (affectionate) with Control and Quantum Break: the world, its history and other characters are more interesting (to me) than their protagonists.

I wanted to get far deeper into the inner lives of Beth Wilder, Paul Serene, William Joyce and Martin Hatch than Jack's. William's and Beth's specifically, the one who ruined everything and the one who's struggling with the fact it can't be fixed, respectively. Sure I got my fix from the novel, but that is not part of the main text, so my comment still stands.

Ahti and Polaris/Hedron's goals, The Oldest House and all the places and events and phenomenon it connects to is what makes my mind wander. Jesse's involvement with all of them and her relationships with other characters remain only as possibilities at the end of the game.

I would feel far less affection or attachment to either Jesse and Jack if it weren't because of the sibling element. That's my huge bias/weakness there I'll admit.

But with Saga, I do care about her entire world, everything and everyone that surround her. She likes weird, morbid stuffs and romance stories, she's extremely curious which got her in trouble but was responsible enough to go deal with it.

As a new protagonist character that stands right next to a well established one as Alan Wake, I think there's very little Remedy could've done to make her better.

She's just amazing, Remedy and Melanie Liburd deserve so much praise for her.

The only gripe I have about her treatment is extremely petty and it's the same I've had in previous games, which is technical - she could've had more animations that showed her body language given she didn't have as many live action scenes (and also watching some of previous Melanie's work, she's got an incredible voice range for certain emotions that weren't explored in the game). But that's a matter of presentation and technical development.

AND

Remedy flexed the leaps in improvement they've gone through already! I mean, Saga's animation of picking up things anyone???.

So here's hoping they got more plans for her and they include more live action.

#saga anderson #alan wake 2 #me a non-naitve english speaker: hope this doesnt make ur eyes bleed teehee #adhd meds have also vacated my brain as of a few hours ago #gotta go fight seasonal depression now and work on pending commissions #also just wanna put more energy on drawing her in situations #man I have so so many ideas planned people you have no idea #also jfc have you seen melanie liburd??#or listened to her voice #she's got this special kind of timbre - very clear #cannot ignore her - I'd listen to whatever she'd say and and ed up buying whatever she tried to sell me #I'm just the “women” meme I suppose #last petty thought but in a proud way: I kind of feel jealous Saga got more room to display her character traits than Jesse haha #remedyversetxt

45 notes · View notes

notsosecretlyalesbian · 1 year

Text

Lisa Ann Walter as Melissa Schemmenti in Abbott Elementary| 02×20: Educator of the Year

#melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #dailyabbottelementary #abbottelementaryedit #abbottelementarygifs #abbottgifs #abbottedit #my gifs #notsosecretlyalesbian #i'm just very proud i got this one done with all the procrastinating that's been going around #i don't exactly love these but we're okay with that #also i couldn't decide on a quote that'd be funny without context :/#also i have no idea what i did with the colors in some of these so my apologies

262 notes · View notes

stitchy-face · 1 month

Text

✦THREADS OF CALIBREON✦

A new Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Inspired series that encourages folks to engage with the story and helm what character, era, or ealm they want to learn about next for my headworld, Calibreon. 🌿

These votes also shape each months prints, and stickers ✨ We are only at the very beginning, the infancy of my world and its stories. Members now have a chance to decide where they want to steer the story- if you want to cast a vote consider joining along for the tale.

#look at my worldbuilding project boy #no really I'm very excited and proud of this idea #there's so much to tell I do not know where to start #so I figured letting everyone else vote what they want to see would be best #calibreon #headworld #worldbuilding #threads of calibreon

32 notes · View notes

aldcaldos · 7 months

Text

I'm coiled up like the venomous serpent / Tangled in your trance and I'm certain / You have got your hooks in me.

"How is it that Bhaal has two Chosen?" "It is not for me to question my father. Do not think of us two. We are but sides of a single bloody coin, he and I."

anson belongs to @alistairs

#game: baldur's gate 3 #oc: kahlan #baldur's gate 3 #baldursgate3edit #bg3edit #bg3 spoilers #bg3 oc #bg3 tav #gamingedit #videogameedit #the result of 2 million tutorials and endless font tests #what happens when you get struck with an idea but it's full of things you've never tried before #i'm very proud of this actually #specifically blending i've done blending once but never to this extent #don't ask me how many times i'll be reblogging this bc i can't count that high

76 notes · View notes

bookofmac · 2 months

Text

okay okay okay, thinking thoughts

So I find the concept of Names really interesting in Camlann, reading into the extracanonical stuff put on the tumblr is giving me food for theory crafting. The Catacylsm seems to be some kind of return of magic to the world (possibly heralded by the return of The King of the Britons in their hour of need?) and thus people with significant Names have access to something because of it. they fall into the stories of their namesakes; Perry, Gwaine, and Kay are Knights, Morgan is Morgana Le Fay, and we now have a Gwen in Shújūn.

Based on Kay's dicussion with Perry if more people can fill in the roles of their stories to more 'to plan' the stories will go, Of course this is not good news if you know the general end point of Arthurian legend (Betrayal, muderer, war, most everyone dead, the 'Glory' of camelot gone). It's inherently kind of a doomsday cult if you stay in those stories, you know where parts of this are going (i'll get back to this)

it also seems like there may be some, for lack of a better term, kin drama going on. There are 900 members of the court and Kay mentions that Peredur is a really uncommon name outside of Wales, meaning there are certain knights who are more common, i assume Lancelot's, Kay's, maybe a few Talisin's, a bunch of Gareth's, and like 50 Elaines like in the legends lol

We also dont have the context for how Names work full yet and neither do our characters. I think theres a lot of answers to be had with Shújūn/Gwen with how it works, how you know other than the buzzing in you're head and desire go through the motions and Follow the Story

Now, where does Dai fit in all this?

Dai doesn't have a Name, and I think theres going to be a point where he changes his name in a major way, but not to a Name, but a Bardic name. In welsh poetic and story telling tradtions Welsh poets, THE OG Bards, will take on pseudonyms tell their stories. This practice stems from the medievil era, but goes forth to today, and many modern Welsh and welsh heritage poets have connections to this tradition (Dylan Thomas' middle name was his great uncles bardic name, Sarah Williams published her work under the name Sadie), I believe it's also a requirement to have one if you intend to perform in the major Eisteddfod, (I am Australian so my experiance of Eisteddfods here is very different so if i'm wrong on that let me know)

Why would he do this? I think Dai is going to, at least try, to write him and his friends a way out.

Much ink is spilt over how Arthurian legend doesnt have an 'orginal text', and as such there are lots of stories that are inherently contradictory; Bedwyr is the best knight, but so are Gwaine, Lancelot, and Galahad. Mordred is some random king until his Arthur's son. Arthur has a sister, no he has two, actually he has three and one of them is an Elaine. This could be used to explain any doubles (are you my Gwaine), as well as why we see a few different spelling varients which are, the very welsh Peredur as opposed to Percival or Parzifal, the anglisised and more boarish Kay as opposed to Cei or Caius (this last one might just to keep Dai and Kay distinct tho). These variations are no more or less 'canon' than any other telling of the story, and so often the writer of a given telling of Arthurian legend is going to have their own bias. But things dont HAVE to end the way they always do, and sometime you need to have someone outside the story you're caught in to tell you a new one.

You are not locked into that ever looming cloud of Thomas Mallory and Le Morte d'Arthur.

Other evidence I have for this is that Dai sings at the begining of each episode, and sings in welsh at that. He also is, to a point our narrator, existing both in and out of the current narative. Also his name is an a lyric of Sosban Fach (a song i would be surprised if it wasn't in the show at some point) 'Dai bach y sowldiwr' which is also not from the text the song was based on. Tangential yes, but i think it's worth thinking about.

I think there is also something to be said about choice in what your name is and how it feeds into the overall theme of identiy, and how that plays into other themes at play in the story, like Transness, Imperialism, and Predestination

TL:DR; While he doesnt have a Name, Dai's gonna give himself an epic bard name and save them all by writing a killer hook to get them out of the story

#if i've gotten details wrong wrt welsh culture im sorry i am australian and a lot of my engagement in my welsh heritage is me doing research #theres only 3 eps out i listend to them an hour ago and im writing this kind of tinfoil i'm so proud of myself lol #this is so rambly im sorry but if people want to use any of this to build ideas off of pls go ahead #camlann #camlann pod #camlann podcast #camlannpodcast #many thoughts; so big so made of foil #if i am right about the kin drama idea i'll be so happy #all the garaths fighting over kitchen duty is very funny to me in specific

33 notes · View notes