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#purple imposter
sparkly-caroline · 5 months
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So I've been watching Demon Slayer for the first time, and it's an actual masterpiece. Oh my god I love everything about it.
And thus, the clusterfuck that is my brain turned Red from the Rodamrix series into a Nezuko. Why? Who knows!
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renagaderex · 6 months
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“Now I’m biggest imposter!!”
This was a request from Miss DNL after my last Papa Indigo pic. I couldn’t deny a piggyback request- Indigo is king of Piggyback.
Indigo always looks so grouchy. He’s got a lot on his plate- but I think he deserves to smile more.
thank you for viewing!
 
art is a © RenagadeRexRider
Indigo and Purple are Among Us Fan characters belonging to Rodamrix
Among Us is a ©InnerSloth Games
do not repost without permission
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lytters · 1 year
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i'm sorry but i will never get over the thought of hitoshi just staring at you at night as you sleep, disbelief coating his face as he memorizes your features, lightly tracing over them with calloused fingers. he can't believe he's made it here, an hero with an actual license, surrounded by people who don't look at him in disgust, and most importantly, laying beside you – the person he's loved for what feels like a million years.
you – incandescent, intelligent, liked-by-all. hitoshi – spiteful, pessimistic, feared.
and yet you chose him. you chose him, when you could have had anyone else in the world, someone nicer, someone stronger, someone better. selfishly, hitoshi is glad you chose him, even if he knows you deserve the best the universe has to offer.
he knows he's not that, but he's working towards it. he'll work towards a future where he's deserving of your love, to stand beside you and bring you pride.
but for now, he'll settle for tucking you closer into his chest, holding you gently. your slow, even exhales warm his chest, and there hitoshi falls asleep – tender love soothing his insecurities silent.
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hiraunia · 3 months
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Guess who made more fanart? This lil' guy!
@crinklytinfoil 's Series The Best Laid Plans of Crewmates and Imposters has been carrying my mental state(Funny considering how dark and fucked it gets) for the past few months so it was only natural for me to make some more, finally getting out those little scenes in my head on to something.
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I know that the uniforms should all be the same but I just couldn't help myself! I just couldn't get the idea that the Emancipator and Parmenides gets special uniforms out if my head, like Parmenides is a special base/mission thing so they get some bulkier, more insulating outfits and the Emancipator is like the best Gaurdien Ship in Mira so they get the cool fancy outfits to signify how important they are. Kinda backwards but I designed the standared Mira suits(Browns) last so I already ran out unique uniform suloetes which is why its skin tight, not what I would typically give to them but the Parmenides ones where already what I would tyically give to an astronaut or whatever but I thought they looked too cool for your average crewmate and Mira sucks so they get the dumb skinsuits. Don't ask why the fancier uniforms are monocolor and basic ones have grey accents, I needed something to make it more intresting.
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So I drew this like a month ago and I kinda hate it but also still like it. I figured I may aswell show it since I did work hard on it. This was atcually drawn traditionally, like I inked it and then edited a photo so I could add the colors digitally which is why its a little more janky than the first doodles and theres ink everywhere. I love Yellow so much, that pose made all the bs I delt with with the ink worth it. Also if you hadn't noticed Dani's design is different, yah I made this a month ago and only realiseds like two days ago that Dani was described with black locs not brown curls! Wish it didn't take me that long to realise that becuse locs are SOOO much eaiser to draw than curls, esspecially shorts curls I hate them so much! Atcually I hate drawing short hair in general, this has been a somewhat tourturous experince for me!
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This is from another tradtional sketch I colored but it was the only doodle I liked so behold! Cyan and Grey being cute together on the way to the tower(?)
I love this doodle so much, it the only one i have of any one with their helmets on and thats kinda a shame becuse I feel like geting rid of the face makes me give them more expressive body language. I've been struggling to make the helmets with the other uniforms look good so thats probly why. The Parmenides uniform have that tall neck that connects the head to the body better but the other two are having this odd bobblehead(heh) effect. I need to experiment more with it.
Anyways its 3 am and I need to stop staying us so late! Have a good time of day!
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coolpistachio · 1 year
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meow
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turnaboutsisterz · 2 years
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IS IT POSSIBLE FOR A K-ON AND AN EMAIL PHISHING ATTEMPT TO BE IN LOVE?
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josie-art-josie-art · 1 month
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Since I mainly just wanna prioritize important current-world issue + Palestime stuff on my blog til Monday here’s an art dump for my followers that need food
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nat-of-personifs · 7 months
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Nao
My experiences of imposter syndrome, jealousy, and mostly creative FOMO, put through a metaphorical google translate. Second person practice. A bit of Guardian!Ira lore, as a treat. It’s google translate. Not all the metaphors correlate exactly.
Your friends are always in your thoughtspace.
They trample the garden you see it as with booted feet, behind five locks you never intended for them to navigate. They don’t know it. You let them: they are Active and you are classified as Passive, they are older, and they deserve this space to play in. They deserve the play they were denied while they lived, the imitation of which your own Active mocked you for. 
You would have been like your friends if you’d died earlier, before you met them, before you miscarried your own fandomspirit, because children always become Actives. It’s only fair. They should have lived longer. The Wall has a limit that changes, but there’s always a limit.
Or maybe there’s not, and the In-Betweenness has warped your feelings into Reality again. But this isn’t Reality: that was the first thing you remembered. You exist in the iPad under your pillow on the night you died, but you aren’t in Internet, you’re beyond. Your first friend exists in the pages of the last Wikipedia article they read on their phone, and the second exists in the code of the computer in the hospital on the day he lost his fight.
Maybe you’re the Pattern Screamers Ira manifests in Fiction. You’re surprised your memory, your thoughtscape, was strong enough at all, but the Wall emphasized that you should have woken up to Reality the next day. Sometimes proto-Guardians are just too tangled.
You only had a chance of becoming Passive because you tied your thoughtscape to your friends, anyway. They were marked from the day they were old enough to think: with the scraps of paper that hold their limbs together, clothing labels they cut off and keep, doctor’s offices diagnosing the colors in their brains. They didn’t like the way they bled into Reality–his more obviously than theirs, but no less valid. You would have grown up loving Reality and yourself if it wasn’t for them, but in the old tales, eternal life was the greatest gift to give. Is it worth it, in this form?
Only if you want it. Your thoughtspace is too close to the Wall, and it’s your true body now. Everyone’s an avatar. It beckons. You don’t exist, anyway. You also don’t care enough to terminate yourself. That’s always been the problem, hasn’t it? Reality flowed over you, bland but filterless, and your thoughtspace eroded as slowly as igneous rock.
Homogenous. Silent. Thoughtspaces are refuges, but yours withers with boredom instead of flowering under duress as it should. You pried it open when you met your friends, a platonic love letter never sent. They assumed you were always as vibrant as you became when your minds crossed. It’s how they entered, why they trampled. It’s not fair that they’ve done so much and all you can feel from it is the string in the fabric of your chest pulling tight. You are vomiting emaciated imitations of the colors, even now, where everyone can see, and silently complain of the bleeding as your thoughtspace cuts you with their knives.
You could fight it back with a breath, or count the perceptions it doesn’t warp, or simply stop believing the knives can hurt you. You’re an In-Between, another forgotten mistake of the Wall. You have some defenses. But isn’t it better to bleed? You’re only mistaken for an Active when the colors leave marks on your face, the highest compliment a Guardian can send. Euphoria makes your arms softer (your mother always commented on how solid you were, compared to her looseness) and sharpens your knives. 
It doesn’t hurt, at least compared to the lonely blacks and blues you see rising above the heads of new Actives like halos. Your synesthesia is a dead end, words to colors, so the halos spell out bruises in cues only your thoughtspace unravels. They come apart with the satisfaction of ripping out knit mistakes in yarn. You take their colors too, and pretend they’re yours when you bind together loose papers in the Wall, but it knows your deceptions.
You can’t keep yourself away from the initiation rites, but newly-rough knife edges point to your arms when you look. The threat is enough. The only defenses your thoughtspace doesn’t block are your legs, and the tightness in your chest, locking together in an ancestral rite that most Actives use far too often. You run, it’s simple. Opposites aren’t attractive to you.
It’s not like you can’t look away, though. Pacing makes you feel like an airplane in a holding pattern, waiting to land, but you’re so impatient. Even the colors can’t help with the twitches and the boredom when you finally fall into bed, still peeling your nails, as your friends sharpen the knives they don’t know they have when they joke that you should have been an Active. Dopamine, as the flickering colors are validated, and cortisol, as you force the self that yearns for them to object to a falsehood you desperately want to believe. 
Your friends have walked longer. Your friends cultivated their thoughtspaces properly, or improperly, depending on whose normalcy you take as the truth–but your normalcy is only whatever they do. Your body is eleven and the youngest of your friends, who say they look exactly the way they did when they died. You haven’t checked. The house you dreamed of the three of you sharing is constantly shadowed, and you put redaction bars over their faces. It’s a remnant from a fandomspirit whose Guardian body could put all your colors into boxes, and leave you barren and Passive as you should have been. But, like her, you can’t bear giving up the bits of meaningless control you have now. It’s why you made the locks.
They were never for your friends: your friends are free to access your thoughtspace whenever they feel the urge to (you dreamed of them visiting you in your lowest moments while you were alive, and blinding them with the colors you bleed), they’re for Ira, when the Wall finally forgives her behind an Old Triumvirate secret.
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malinraf1615 · 1 year
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My Among Us character!
The game version:
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theunknowndoodler · 1 year
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Fun fact!
If somebody was replaced with an imposter, Crimson would be able to tell. Crimson can sense and familiarize the texture of others touch, and their smell
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trop1cal-punk · 2 years
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Dancing in laughter
---------------------------------- Summary: Levithan remiscies on a sweeter time (plationic fic)  Word count: 755 A/n: you totally want more Purpled!hermes au yes you do take it ----------------------------------
It was no doubt to anyone in the Tired crew that purpled was, weird. In the best or worst way all of them were weird. For Herobrines sake, Walibear was literally a man cursed to be some kind of bear hybrid, then there was squid and his stupid height! But Purpled was weird weird. 
Purpled seemed forever cautious yet completely confident. Completely in control yet out of it at every single moment. There was not a moment any of them could remember where he smiled or laughed. 
Except for Leviathan.
It was long before Purpled disappeared. It was just the two of them. The others were always a few years their senior but this was the first either of them had actually hung out with someone their own age. The stars above twinkled as he laughed playing his melodica. Purpled was relaxed, laying on his back, pointing out constellations when he could, describing the stories behind them. It was comforting to just exist with bloodshed for a while.
That's when Levithan noticed something, placing the Melodica on his lap, reaching out, “Hey you got something on your face-”
Purpled sat up, swatting away Leviathan's hand to scrub at his own cheeks with his sweater, ‘What? Did I get it?”
“No you didn't but,” Leviathan squinted, they were freckles. Glowing and purple freckles. Not only that there seemed a slight glow in his eyes. “Do you wear makeup?”
“No? Why would you ask that?” Purpled’s eyebrow scrunched up.
“You have purple freckles.”
“I what?” Purpled stared at Levithan as Levithan stared back. 
There was a beat of silence before Levithan threw his head back, almost rolling down the hill with the force of his laughter. “How did you never know?! It’s your own face Purpled!” 
Purpled then launched himself forward, taking Levithan down with him. The grass under them was enough of a cushion as they rolled down the hill throwing soft punches at each other. One that never really hurt, if they did, the pain never really lasted long. 
Once they had rolled to a stop Purpled was on top as Levithan struggled back smirking. Then Leviathan saw it. It was just a smirk at first, then it bloomed into a grin that stretched ear to ear. Suddenly, he laughed, rolling off leviathan without a care in the world. 
Leviathan felt the first raindrop, he looked up at the sky. Fragile clouds now covered the sky, just enough to only cover a few stars. The moon now looked misty, hazy even. Then another and another. But this rain was warm. It felt almost like liquid sunshine, although it was the middle of the night. 
Leviathan was so busy admiring the rain, that he hadn’t even noticed the way Purpled look away in shame. He only barely heard Purpleds apology, “I’m sorry, you probably don’t like the rain.”
Leviathan gawked at him, “Why are you apologizing!?”
Purpled shrunk into himself, “Whenever I laugh, it rains. Usually, people don’t like the rain.”
Leviathan was dumbfounded, “Were you always able to do that? That's so cool! Can you control the weather? Can you?” 
“You, like the rain?” Purpled asked, looking equally dumbfounded. 
“Purpled, Have you ever danced in the rain?” The rain was letting up. As much as Levithan loved star gazing, (the overworld stars were always more pretty than nether stars in his opinion), he loved the rain a bit more, and his friend actually enjoyed himself for once. 
“No? I never really liked storms, they give me a- AH” Purpled yelped as Leviathan pulled to his feet. Leviathan laughed almost maniacally as he spun Purpled as fast as he could. “Levithan! This isn't dancing!” 
“I can be!” Leviathan got in between laughs.
Then Purpled smirked, “Then two can play this game!” That's when purpled planted his feet on the ground, gaining control and spinning Levithan. Levithan screamed. 
Then he felt his feet come off the ground. “Purpled!” He was going to yell at Purpled until he heard him laughing again, and the smile returned. The rain was now a downpour soaking the both of them. 
They spent the rest of the night chasing each other through the rain, attempting the splash each other through the puddles forming. 
Now the memory was bittersweet. Purpled had been missing for god knows how long. Leviathan had lost track of the days and months long ago. Leviathan knew he was probably six feet under. So he clung to the one thing of his he still could from Purpled, his laugh.
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muutos · 11 months
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i have roxanne wolf brainrot hjkl
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renagaderex · 6 months
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A crisp memory
Another (kinda) request that I couldn’t help but think when I saw the prompt. Fall and its leaves and crisp cool air always bring up good memories. And it certainly does for many- maybe even a family of purple beans. 💜💜💜
They need a happy ending.
thank you for viewing!
art is a © renagaderexrider
Indigo is an Among Us Fan character belonging to rodamrix
Among Us is a ©InnerSloth Games
do not repost without permission
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chirpycreations · 2 years
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So, I got sick for about a week with this awful bug going around and that gave me the time & reason (blame my older sister for trying to chuck out half my story notes) to re-read An Imposter's Fate and... it's fun.
It's a very fun story in a way Lost Children just isn't. Lost Children feels very serious and dark (because, well, it is) while An Imposter's fate is goofy with lots of fluff. I re-read all 5 published & 8 unpublished chapters, and now I really want to finish this story.
I haven't uploaded anything yet, I'm still deciding how I'm going to upload it (new fic, clean up the old or just add on more chapters to the existing one). For now, I've typed out all the chapters I wrote well over a year ago, and I'm in the process of updating it, because this fic was written on the 2020 vs of Among Us (Yes. I was actually here for the hype train and not 2 years later to the party as I am with everything else >> )).
In the meantime, here's the new character references. I'm feeling a lot better today, so hopefully in the next couple of days I'll start work on writing some new chapters. I had a very fun idea with a broken water pipe ;)
Original fic link for anyone interested (beware the spelling errors ;) )
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coining-and-stims · 2 years
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Purple imposter gender
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A flag with horizontal lines going from purple, dark purple,blue, pastel black,blue, dark purple and purple with a circle drippy that contains white eyes
A gender relating to purple and imposters or the purple imposter in among us!
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grapejuicegay · 1 year
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