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#this is filed under self indulgent art
t00thpasteface · 2 years
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gift art for @seagoing-nerd and his 20k fic because i go FUCKING INSANE over the trope where an artist gets all their deep dark secrets revealed via unexpected sketchbook exposure. as an artist it's my absolute worst fucking nightmare... ( °Д °;)
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thepixelelf · 9 months
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...............not even close
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isawken · 1 year
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disco elysium and transmasculinity:
i don't want to be this kind of animal anymore
there is no such thing as an inherently masculine trait, only those which we have culturally prescribed to be masculine. muscular, tall, strong, stoic. self-destructive. repressive. angry. unhinged. violent. addictive.
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Disco Elysium markets itself with the tagline “what kind of cop are you?”. to put it bluntly: you get to choose what man you want to be. the actual gameplay mechanic is the game keeps track of your dialogue choices and, among other RPG things, neatly divvies them up into 4 main Cop Categories: Sorry Cop, Apocalypse Cop, Superstar Cop, Boring Cop. after some time establishing your identity you can branch off into 3 other copotypes: honor cop, art cop, and hobocop. These are all exactly what you think they would be.
a supremacist stands tall, immovable, shirtless, tattooed, in the way of one of your objectives, and if you let him he will tell you all the ways your body betrays your degeneracy. all the indulgences you make, with drugs and alcohol and sex, are allegedly clear as day written across your reddened swollen face. you are not a man. you are pathetic. a pair of women reassure his divine masculinity even when he admits his impotence. there’s no denying it: that’s one man of a man right there.
your former detective partner is an eternally scowling pockmark faced asshole. he approaches every interaction with you with a nice solid baseline of aggression. if you choose to put your points into something called “espirit de corps”, you get small vignettes of his previous actions. in one of them, it’s joked that you two are near-marital in your relationship. in some of them, he worries about you. muttering under his breath, mostly to himself, not unkindly. but he certainly never shows that to you face to face. 
two old men play pétanque outside every day by the sea. they have done this for years. they have known each other since they were kids. one is a fascist, the other a democratic socialst. if you’re nosy, you can go to the watchman’s post and find a picture of him, his socialist buddy, and a young woman whose attentions they supposedly both vied for. if you decide to become a fascist, the game gives you something more. your abilities Pain Threshold, Composure, Endurance, Volition, Conceptualization, and Inland Empire take turns showing you tiny slices of a truth viciously stamped beneath the heel of his brilliant boot. a love for his dear hated socialist. and when he dies, that socialist tells you the same. but they never told each other. never even came close. because how could you?
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harry dubois wakes up face down ass up covered in piss and vomit and full of foggy confusion after drinking himself into amnesia. he's tall, he's got giant arms, a proud beer gut, and he's self-destructed himself into literal oblivion. this pitiful bastard doesn't even remember his own name. the first person he encounters outside of the hotel room in which he fucked himself up beyond his limbic system’s reach tells him at some point during his bingeful weekend she heard him scream, "i dont want to be this kind of animal anymore". you don’t know why you said this. but after a while you have some pretty good guesses.
i could talk forever about the unique circumstances of growing up as a girl in modern western society. but i have nothing interesting to say that hasn't already been said much more eloquently. learning to hate my body, learning to be afraid, learning that you need to want to be consumed. the eternal unpacking of all the issues a patriarchal society burdens you with. it never ends. but i've at least reached a point where i've done my base legwork. i know the oppression i've fought. it is nameable. i have labeled each and every patriarchal burden like a so many papers in a filing cabinet. few are going in the shredder, but at least they're known. next to that filing cabinet, i have a big pile of loose papers slowly sliding off a desk with the word "masculinity" in neon lights flickering above them. i want to dive into those papers. but the thought of it fills me with such apprehension. i've always wanted masculinity. i've purposefully adopted affectations to make myself more stereotypically masculine. most are hilariously shallow, and not exactly innovative. i smoked camels for 8 years. i drink my coffee black. i picked up a nice little alcohol habit. i've shoved down more feelings than i would ever willingly admit in the hopes to appear unbothered. I’ve told myself to “man the fuck up” my fair share of times. none of it got rid of my hips or my tits or my anxiety or my painfully high pitched voice. i’ve quit smoking. i sometimes think i should start again for many reasons, but one is in the hope that my voice will drop. just one octave. at least. it’s silly, i know. believe me. i know.
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when harry drags his sorry ass out of that hotel room, he isn't free of his past. he has shadows in his mind reminding him of the things he's forgotten. shadows that still influence his views of masculinity. there is no way to truly escape the bitter leaden paint stuck to the inside of your mind so violently applied by our beloved patriarchal society. there is a hilarious dialogue option where, if you so choose, you can proclaim that you would never let anyone androgynous touch your hair. because the “others” (unnamed) would laugh at you. here we have a man who cant remember his own name, but he is certain that he absolutely cannot under any circumstances have a non-manly haircut for fear of mockery and rejection by his peers. how many coats of that leadened paint must have adhered to his poor, poor limbic system that even when he’s forgotten the concept of money, he still knows about the boundaries of masculinity.
 as harry tries to be a good person (or a fascist or a doom prophet or a disco superstar) he cannot really shake the pieces of himself that make him him. and he meets another bastion of masculinity, kim kitsuragi immeasurably measured, willful, and kind (for a cop), he helps you rediscover the world around you as you try to rewrite your tabula rasa'd self. he is firm, but nice. he lets you make your choices and mistakes. and he only stops supporting you when you start fucking up like, literally everything, and indulging in racism. naturally, there is a lot of fanart of them kissing, and yearning. both are beacons of masculinity, different sides of the same coin. where harry is physically imposing, kim is slight. where kim is calm cool and collected, harry will break down crying after a brief conversation with his necktie. but both are undeniably masculine. i mean, they’re cops after all. what more masculine profession is there?
as kind as kim is to you in your lowest possible state, it can be easy to overlook the ways in which he is not kind. when you tell him you think you really, seriously, need to go to the hospital, seriously kim i can't even remember my name i think i could have brain damage, kim responds with the equivalent of "walk it off" by encouraging you to start working on the case and see if that makes you feel better instead. it is in this light that you recognize which affectations of his are conscious posturing. his fitted jacket and trousers, matching the uniforms worn by air brigades in a past war. his careful collection of tools he keeps in his beloved kineema. his vast knowledge and care for the car itself. looked at in a certain different light- you know the one- you could see these traits being the result of a very careful construction. he found pieces of overt masculinity and decided to subsume them as a defense. a bolstering, a reinforcement of chosen masculinity.
there are so many different flavors of masculinity that the game offers you to experience and explore yourself. you decide whether to value them. you can follow in mister phenology’s footsteps and try to build yourself into a supremacist ideal. maybe that will make you happy. you can also chase after a barely-coded homosexual man, who makes you stutter in most available dialogue options. even if that may make you happy, you don’t get to pursue it. you can think for 20 hours about the "homosexual underground", but you can't join it yourself. you can however join fascism. interesting how harry is more susceptible to fascism than homosexuality. interesting to prod and poke at his masculine limits.
“what kind of cop are you” is a loaded question. harry is rebuilding himself from the ground up as a man. and how funny is it to learn that is inextricable from his profession.
what do you find inextricable from your gender? what of those traits make you happy? what of those traits make you want to throw your fucking shoe through a god damn window and punch the bathroom mirror and scream and scream and scream and scream?
i want to emerge from a hotel room, at my lowest point, and have the power to rebuild myself from scratch. i want a cool man who i maybe want to kiss guide me with a gentle yet firm hand. i want to have large arms, and a proud beer gut, and a stupid beard, and i want to destroy a hotel room and drink myself into a beautifully tragic state. i want to have non-political body hair. i want to get stared at for my gaudy tie and green snakeskin shoes instead of my tits. i want become a different kind of animal.
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ellethespaceunicorn · 8 months
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Daddy Knows Best, Part III
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Title: Daddy Knows Best, Part III 
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI 
Pairing: StepDad!August Walker x StepDaughter!Reader  
Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout 
Word Count: 2.5K 
Summary: August Walker and your father were once friends. One mission, a single decision, made them enemies. August decides he needs to get his revenge. And what better way, than to become your new Daddy? 
Chapter Summary: Daddy and Babydoll take a trip together. 
Warnings: pet names (Daddy, Babydoll, babygirl), age gap (the reader is 18, August is in his late-30s), Dom/sub vibes, oral (m receiving), cum facial, cockwarming, unprotected p-in-v sex, cumshot, loss of a parent (mother), dead dove: do not eat 
A/N: This is different from my usual fics. This would be considered dark!fic in every way possible. If you read the warnings and still choose to read, you are making your own decision. No one is forcing you to read this. This is an entirely self-indulgent therapeutic fic. Enjoy! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.  
Dividers by: @saradika 
Support/Reblog banner by me
Spotify Playlist is here. 
Cover Art by me 
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
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“It’s only a couple of days, Babydoll. I promise I will be back before you know it.” I fold a polo and put it in my suitcase on the bed next to a grumpy Babydoll. 
“You’re gonna leave me here with Mom? I might as well be alone.” That little pout on her face gets me every time. And she’s not wrong. Her mother will ignore her at best, and at worse she will try and connect with her.  
Too little, too late. 
“You want to come with Daddy on his trip, don’t you?” I start thinking about what things we could get up to in my safe house. 
And it could make it easier to do that...other thing I had planned.  
“Please, Daddy?! I promise I won’t take up a whole lotta space and I’ll do whatever you say, I promise!! Please, can I go?” She clasps her hands under her chin and pokes out her bottom lip and I am a goner. 
“Whatever I say, huh?” A couple of things come to mind at that moment and I file them away for later usage.  
She bites her lip to hide a smile, nodding furiously.  
I wink at her, leaning down and claiming her lips. Pulling away and smiling at her, I say, “Go and pack for a three-day trip,” I bring a hand down to cup her pussy, moving her panties to the side and dipping a finger in to feel that she was a soaked mess, “You are going to do everything I say, Babydoll. And you will respond with ‘Yes, Daddy’. Am I understood?” 
“Yes, Daddy.” She wiggles her hips to try and ride my finger, but I pull it away and lick it clean as she watches. 
“Don’t make me have to ask you to go pack, Babydoll.” I give her a stern look and she scurries away. 
Soon, our suitcases are in my Escalade and we are off on our small road trip. 
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You wake up slightly as Daddy is carrying you into a cabin under the light of the moon. You keep your eyes closed as you are put into bed and your shoes and jacket are removed. You peek an eye open as you lift a hand to grab Daddy’s arm as he starts to leave. 
A warm hand touches yours, “Daddy just has to make a quick phone call. I’ll be right back, Babydoll.” 
You nod and close your eyes, melting into the plush comforter surrounding you. The creak of the wooden bedroom door shutting is all you hear before sleep claims you yet again. 
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I shut the bedroom door and immediately pull out my cell phone. Dialing a number I’ve memorized, I wait until the line is picked up.  
“Timeline’s moved up. Do it now.” Hanging up after hearing confirmation, I make my way over to the small bar in the living room. 
I pour two fingers of Black Label neat and swirl it around, taking a sip. The smoky vanilla liquid coats my tongue as I savor it and then swallow. Whether it’s the placebo effect or not, I instantly feel calm.  
Sitting on one end of the couch, I throw my feet up on the coffee table. Holding my drink in my lap and leaning my head back against the backrest of the couch, I close my eyes and just rest.  
It’s so rare that I can just sit in silence anymore. I didn’t ask to be a father...figure. Not that I’m upset about Babydoll being in my life, far from it. She's perfect for me.  
I’m terrible for her. But she has no clue about that. And I'd like to keep it that way. 
My sweet little empty-headed Babydoll is ready to do anything and everything I ask her to. If pleasing me makes her happy, who am I to stop her? 
I take a sip of my drink and hear the slow creak of the floorboards in the bedroom. I throw my arm over the back of the couch as the bedroom door opens and Babydoll’s head pokes out. 
“Daddy?” Oh, how I love to hear that out of her mouth. 
“Come here, Babydoll,” I hold an arm out as she shuffles across the hardwood in her thigh-high socks and makes her way over to the couch to sit sideways in my lap, “I thought you were sleeping, babygirl.” 
Laying her head on my chest and wrapping her arms around me, she settles in against my warmth. “I reached over for you and you weren’t there and I got scared.” How is she this fucking adorable? 
“Oh, my sweet girl. I was right here the whole time. I promise you are always safe with me,” Safe was kind of subjective, but I went with it, “I’ve got an idea to get you back to sleep, it’ll make you nice and tired.” 
She starts to squirm in my lap and I put my hand on one of her thighs, hooking my fingers in her thigh-high sock and pulling it down her leg. I do the same with the other before I reach over her to put my drink on the table. 
Moving her to the couch, I kneel between her legs on the floor and get my hands under her skirt to pull her panties down. The thought crosses my mind how I went through her suitcase and pulled out all the panties she packed. I want easy access to this pussy while we’re away. 
She snaps me out of my reverie with, “Daddy?” 
“What’s wrong, Babydoll?”  
She leans up and runs her hand over the front of my slacks and grabs my dick. “I wanna learn to give Daddy special kisses too.” Did she know what she was doing to me? 
Fuck. 
I bite my bottom lip and sit back on my heels for a second, looking into her pleading eyes. Standing back up, I open my zipper and pull out my already half-hard dick right in front of those pretty plump lips. “You want this in your mouth, Babydoll?”  
“Yes, Daddy. Please teach me how you like it?” Her eyes go wide when my dick twitches at her words, so she decides to go a bit further. “Wanna taste Daddy.” She’s rewarded with another twitch. 
“Why don’t you grab Daddy’s dick and stroke it first, Babydoll?” The moment she has a hand around me, she licks her lips and it threw me for a loop. Up until this point, she has been my sweet virginal Princess, now she wants to suck me off and it turns me on beyond belief. She reverts to using both hands and that little tongue snakes out again in her concentration. I take my dick out of her hands and grab her chin, “Stick your tongue out for Daddy and keep that mouth open.” 
I hold the head of my dick and spread my precum all over her tongue, pushing just the head inside her mouth. “Now, close your mouth around Daddy’s dick with just your lips. No teeth, Babydoll. I’m gonna fuck your little mouth and then you’re gonna see how far you can go. If you have to stop to breathe, just open your mouth, ok?”  
She hums her understanding around my cock and I twitch in her mouth again. I grab the back of her head and move my hips to shallowly fuck her hot wet mouth. She’s doing so good just letting me use her, and I want to fucking cum down her throat any second but I bide my time and just thrust into her nice and slowly. I stop and pull out, a string of her spit still connecting us. 
She gulps in some air and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, looking back up into my eyes. “Can I try to see how far I can go now, Daddy?” It’s like I created the perfect little cockslut. 
“Yes, Babydoll, I want you to show me how deep you can take me. Now, be a good girl and suck Daddy’s dick.” 
“Yes, Daddy.” She takes me in both hands, licking the underside of my dick then taking me in her mouth. I groan in the back of my throat. She gets about halfway and then begins a slow rhythm of stroking and sucking.  
Not the best blowjob, but for a beginner? Damn fine first try. She takes direction well, she’s eager, and she looks so fucking cute while sucking a dick.  
I feel the coil in my stomach tightening. I was so ready to cum down her throat, but her fucking face was so pretty I wanted to mark it as mine. I run a hand through the sweat-slick hair on my forehead before throwing my head back and grunting.  
“Fuck, Babydoll. Daddy’s gonna cum all over that sweet little face...ugh, fuck, close your eyes!” I pull out and shoot rope after rope of thick milky cum over her beautiful perfect face. When her tongue slips out to taste what landed on her lips, I thought I would never stop cumming. 
Slowing my stroke, I squeeze from the base to the tip of my dick, I wipe the last of my cum on her chin. Luckily, none of my cum hit her lashes or eyelids. When she opens her eyes, I smiled at her. I use my thumb to move a bit of my cum between her open lips and she sucks my thumb so sweetly. 
I take back my thumb and place my hand on my chest to steady my breathing. 
“Daddy, I’m tired now. Can we go to bed?” She yawns lazily and the glob of cum hanging from her chin dances.  
I hold in my laughter and suggest, “Wash your face first, Babydoll. Then bedtime.” I take her hand and lead her into the bathroom so she can wash her face and I can use the can. She doesn’t seem to mind me taking a piss, but she isn't covert as she glances sidelong at my dick. I flush, wash my hands after she’s done and we enter the bedroom together. 
I take off the majority of my clothes, then I decide I don’t need to wear anything. We’re out here free from prying eyes, might as well sleep comfortably. And if that makes it even easier access to that pussy, why not? Removing my boxer briefs, I turn to where Babydoll is going over to her suitcase, no doubt to look for pajamas. 
“Babydoll, I want you to sleep naked tonight." I settle under the covers and make myself comfortable. 
“Yes, Daddy.”  
I watch as she pulls down her skirt and pulls off her sweater and undershirt. That tight little body bounced slightly as she made her way over to the bed. Climbing in, she pecks me on the lips and settles down on her side with her leg pulled up. 
I turn to face her and wrap an arm around her waist, pushing her leg up a bit further with my own so I can slide the head of my dick into her tight wet heat. I groan lowly as she moans from the sudden intrusion. 
“We’re gonna sleep with it inside tonight. I want you to just sleep and warm my cock at the same time.” I could feel her heartbeat racing and her breath quickening as he tries to keep herself calm. 
“Yes, Daddy,” She wiggles her hips in the slightest, getting used to the fullness. 
“Stay still, Babydoll. Daddy’ll fuck you in the morning, ok? For now, just rest, babygirl.” I angle my hips and aim for her g-spot and she’s putty in my hands. 
“Daddy, just right there, please? Please please, I won’t ask for anything else. I promise!” I can’t see her face but I can hear how easily she could cry from the tension. 
“Fine, fine. But I’m fucking you to sleep, Babydoll. You better cum for me when I tell you to.” I stay inside her while moving to kneel behind her, fucking into her into the mattress. 
I lean over her, my hands holding her hips as I continuously kiss her cervix with the tip of my dick. Her moans are music to my ears, along with the slapping sounds of flesh that fill the dimly lit room. I can feel her walls start to tighten around me and reach under her leg for her clit. 
“Cum for me, Babydoll. Cum all over Daddy’s dick, babygirl.” I pinch her little clit between my fingers and the dam breaks. 
“Yes, Daddy!” Her toes curl and her core quivers around me. Her warm wetness coats my length and it’s even easier to fuck into her now. Once I hear the squelching sound of her wet pussy, I can’t help but chase my release. 
“That’s my good girl. Just like that...Daddy’s gonna fuck this tight little princess hole til you can't take it anymore. You’re doing so good taking my cock, babygirl. Fuck...fuuuuuuck. Such a perfect little pussy for me to fuck. Shit! Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum. Ugh, fuck!” I pull out and cum all over her ass and back in heavy white stripes. 
I get up to grab a wet washcloth to wipe away the evidence of my orgasm. Coming back, I realize she is down for the count. Wiping her down, she hums but soft snores are soon to follow. 
Well, I meant what I said when I wanted to fuck her to sleep. 
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The next two days are a blur of time with Daddy. The only time he has to go do something alone is the day you left. You wake up and find a note saying that he had to run out. When he comes back, he is in a bad mood and takes it out on your pussy.  
You both load your bags into the Escalade and start your trip home. You sleep most of the trip home, tired from your guts being rearranged. Instead of carrying you in the house, you get a soft nudge to wake up when you are back home. 
"Take your suitcase in, Babydoll. I’ll be right behind you.” He pops the trunk and meets you at the back of the SUV. You pick up your bag and head inside, going straight to your room to drop your luggage. 
It’s very quiet in the house and you wonder where your Mom could be. You check the Master bedroom and the bed is made but she’s not there. The kitchen is empty, and both bathrooms are as well. It wasn’t until something catches your eye in the backyard. 
Something is floating in the pool. Not something. It is someone.  
You go out to the patio, looking into the water you spot your Mother’s lifeless body in the water. 
Before you know it, a blood-curdling scream is escaping you and the world turns black as you’re caught by two strong arms. 
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Part IV
A/N: Well, that was a doozy!!! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Guess I’ll just leave this here and see what y’all think. 
**Tag List** 
@raccoon-eyed-rebel @viking-raider @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @livisss @randomweirdoss @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @mrs-solo-walker [Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁] 
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potol0ver · 9 months
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Horror with the Bros
Mc is into ARGs/horror and make the brothers sit down and watch their favorite series with them.
Very self indulgent because I love ARGs and scare myself more than I should- I finished this at 3 am and all while I was watching Vita Carnas again and I swear I’m not gonna sleep until it’s light out fml-
I apologize if some of the brothers sections are shorter than the others-
TW; none (?), mentions of jump scares of existing ARGs and stuff alike, nothing horribly detailed,
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Lucifer
He doesn’t see why you’d like this. Why would you intentionally scare yourself?
He’d respect the art behind the well developed jump scares and how they’re able to get under someone’s skin.
If you make him watch something like the Mandela Catalog he’d be unnerved by how they use religion as a plot point.
Possibly the only type of horror to truly un nerve him.
You and Lucifer were snuggling down in his bed after you practically dragged him to watch an ARG with you, of course that’s after days of begging him to indulge in watching horror with you.
“I don’t get why you like this stuff…” he scoffs quietly as you set up your computer to watch the Mandela catalog, snuggling yourself into his side.
With a roll in your eyes you hit play on the first episode. He’d hum lowly at the imagery of the uncanny and disfigured human imagery, he won’t lie, that shit is unnerving. Once he realized this had a religion undying to it, he scoffs and gives you a look of “oh really?”.
Why would this be scary to me? I know the truth, hell I was an Angel. I won’t be scared.
Once the cartoons played he started to doubt that thought of his, and once the Angel appeared and spoke in its weird way, you could feel a chill go down his spine. Now it’s your turn to look at him smugly.
“Oh?”
“Shut up.”
Mammon
Good luck dude-
He will NOT make it easy for you
You’d have to puppy dog eye him, make a deal with him about money/getting him out of trouble, lights on constantly, and snuggles throughout.
Take it easy on him please
“You’re lucky I love ya human…” Mammons say’s already under a big pile of blankets in a fully lit room.
“Of course Mams, thank you for doing your ‘First Man’ duty and watch this with me.” You say with an amused smile. For the sake of him you decide to not do something horribly realistic in terms of art and go with the Walten Files.
His eyes widen seeing the first distorted face, and next thing you now he’s clinging onto you like a terrified child.
“You ok Mams? I can turn it off.”
“No no! I-I-I’m ok! I can do this, for you”
“What was that?”
“Nothing!”
Levi
Similar to Mammon, just less bribe-y and more reassuring him you’ll be next to him.
Will try and blow it off like he’s not scared
“Petscop? Is this a real game?” To his disappointment no it’s not. He ties video games he knows to the series. Overall really quiet as he watches.
He gasps once he realizes kids are the pets and what NLM means in terms of the story. Quietly horrified about the implications of the story, so much so he doesn’t even realize he’s holding onto your arm like a life line.
Please just enjoy the moment and let him hold onto you.
Afterwards he’s amazed by the story telling and how they made the videos look like an actual playable game.
Satan
Arguably the best brother to watch ARGs with.
bold of you to assume he doesn’t already LOVE the ARG scene.
He likes true crime, he likes the puzzle like vibe of it. So of course he likes ARGs
Watch the Monument Mythos with him, HES HOOKED.
Will full on go detective mode on it.
Satan grabs the TV remote for what felt like the 50th time of the night. “Ok ok… Dean right? What if he faked the ADA broadcast so he looks better, like…” he rants as you just sit there amused he likes the series so much, but annoyed he keeps pausing it to put pieces together to soon.
At one point when things finally start adding up, he’s quiet and fully immersed. Giving a “I knew it,” or a “hell yeah” when he theorized something right.
Once you finish the final episode he has chills on his skin, prepare for a fan girl like rant about the series.
Asmo
Mc don’t you know stress is bad for your skin?
Will refuse a horror movie or ARG because of it.
Eventuality will agree to look into an ARG/horror series that doesn’t have horror imagery or jump scares.
“Welcome home? Awww this looks cute~” Asmo will sit there and compliment the cute style of it while watching an analysis video of it.
Gets slightly creeped out at the realistic eyes but other than that he loves it. Even gives his own mini theories. Like how everyone potentially got put into the site/show, how Wally is the only one who says “goodbye” instead of go back.
Over all surprisingly loves it and will wait for an update with you.
Beel
Is down for anything really
If you’re having fun, he’s having fun type of guy.
Although not really into horror, if you like it so much he should to right?
“Vita Carnas? Isn’t that science terms?” He eats watching it at first, but slowly loses appetite due to the nature of the series.
Admits the creatures are really cool and well put together, likes the undertone of the story book pages.
But once he feels that you’re getting scared by the Mimics (let’s be honest who wouldn’t?) he turns into his demon form instinctually. Once you flinch by the realistic puppet the creator made he charges at the TV and breaks it.
“Oh… shit sorry…” Beel says with a wide guilty smile.
Maybe watch something you won’t get jump scared by next time.
Belphie
“Are you trying to give me nightmares?”
Will reluctantly lay on your lap while the series plays
It can’t be to scary so he should be able to sleep through it, right?
“Skinamarink? Sounds like a garbled word…” he says before seeing how the movie is directed.
Already hates it.
Hates the premise the kids are stuck in a horror land.
Hates the voice the kids are hearing.
Is wide eyed watching, slightly backing into you while keeping his eyes on the screen like something will jump at any moment.
When it’s done he’ll be sad about what happened to the siblings, definitely not thinking about Lilith- and in return you’ll have to snuggle him to sleep for a month.
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labrxnth · 8 months
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Prison Break- Part 3 (Leon Kennedy x Reader series)
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
CW: Death Island spoilers, suicidal tendencies and thoughts
WC: 1812
Summary: Flash back chapter!
Tag list:
A/N: This is so self indulgent, my birthday and hometown make an appearance whoops.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* : 。゚☆. ───
30 June, 2013
Leon sat down at his desk, rubbing the headache away at his temple. With Simmons now gone, the D.S.O. had to do some major rebuilding; both physical, hiring new staff, and metaphorical, public relations. He dug through his pocket and found the makeup compact that he had stashed yesterday.
His hands turned it over, wondering about his life and hers, if it was really worth pursuing, and if it was fair to a potential partner for him to still be caught up with Ada. He wondered if she would stop being “the one that got away” for him and if he could let go of her. It was either that, or stay alone for the rest of his life, that he was sure of.
It wasn’t Ada’s fault, Leon was mature enough to put all the hurt she caused aside. He knew that she did what she had to for her job, just like he did. They were two sides of the same coin, destined to never be together.
The stack of papers hitting his desk took him away from his daydream. Leon looked up to see a woman with glasses and a business suit. Hunnigan’s hand was still on the stack of papers she put on his desk.
“Read up,” She said. “This is your new field partner.”
Her words caught Leon off-guard.
“Partner?” He asked. His finger brushed his bangs out of his face so he could read the file correctly, but Hunnigan’s hand wouldn’t budge.
“Partner,” She replied and grinned.
“What? You got tired of having to deal with me so I need a babysitter?” Leon retorted.
“You could say that,” She said. Leon went to grab the papers, but her hand held them more. “Promise me one thing though before you look at it.”
Leon’s eyebrow shot up at the request, but nonetheless he nodded.
“Don’t judge them until you meet them,” Hunnigan almost pleaded.
At her words, Leon sat up in his chair more. “Now you’ve pique my interest,” He chuckled and gestured for her to take her hands off of the papers.
Hunnigan took her hands off the stack and Leon almost immediately swiped them. His sly blue eyes darted around the page, his eyebrows knitting as he read.
“She doesn’t look like-“ he got cut off by Hunnigan staring at him. He grumbled and read the paper more, soaking in your name and age to his memory. From the looks of it, he would be babysitting- something he didn’t want to do.
“She meets all the requirements, physical and recommendations,” Hunnigan said, her eyes piercing Leon’s.
“Who’s giving her a recommendation?” Leon asked, not looking up from the paper.
“Me,” she replied and smiled. “Don’t beat her up too much, you’ll walk away with a bloody nose,” she added, chuckling.
Leon looked up from the paper and she was gone. Maybe it would be good to have a constant in his life, someone that he could rely on. One of his hands fiddled with the compact while he kept reading your file. You were a normal person up until 2005. As soon as he read the words that followed the date of January 31, 2005, he knew he wanted to meet you and pick your brain.
January 31, 2005: Umbrella Factory contained outbreak. Casualty: 1
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* : 。゚☆. ───
31 January, 2005
You were an art student studying at University of New Hampshire. Sure, it wasn’t your first pick, and the main campus in Durham would’ve been better, but your family convinced you to stay one town over from them. You needed to get out of your hometown of apple orchards, racists, and pumpkin patches, but wanted to appease your parents at the same time.
So you settled for the next town over in a mini campus.
You were making your way back to your apartment with a tray full of iced coffee and cold brew for you and your roommate, who’d been feeling under the weather lately. She had taken a trip with her biochem class to the Umbrella factory right on the river yesterday, and came back with a slight fever.
This morning wasn’t any better, she was barely response and refused to go to class. She never missed class.
You opened the door to your apartment and was met with a chilling silence.
“Anna?” You called through the apartment, clearing the threshold and putting the tray on the kitchen counter. “I got your coffee!” You said, kicking off your snow boots and taking your jacket off. “I even went to Dunks even though there’s a perfectly good independently owned shop two blocks from here.” You were sure those words would send your roommate running towards you, but nothing.
Nothing.
Silence.
Then a sound, almost like a growling, but not quite. And a squelching sound. Coming from Anna’s room.
You stepped through the hallway, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up with every step and creak in the floorboards under your feet. The sound of ice ratting against the plastic cup echoed through the now daunting hallway.
You wouldn’t call yourself a survivalist by any means, but you’d watch Scary Movie enough to know to be quiet.
Setting down the tray of coffee, you quietly opened the bedroom door. Perched on her bed like a gargoyle, your roommate Anna was hunched over, staring outside the window, twitching.
Your hands quietly grabbed her field hockey stick, the same one that was always leaned up against her bookshelf.
The floorboards creaked under your foot as you tried to scooch closer.
Your roomates head whipped around to the sound and what you saw sent a chill down your spine. Her skin was completely grey, some of it looking like it was separating from her body. Her eyes were big and cloudy, cuts all over her face.
She lunged towards you and that’s when you swung the field hockey stick.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* : 。゚☆. ───
1 July, 2013
You were sitting across from Leon’s desk, in a chair that wasn’t the most comfortable thing ever. Looking over his desk you could conclude that he was either single, or he liked to keep things close to the sleeve; both you could respect. His stuff was laid out in a way that looked like everything had a place, it was a tiny bit messy, but you could tell everything was where it was on purpose.
The door opened and you looked over your shoulder to see the man you be partners with for the foreseeable future.
“Shit, am I late?” He asked.
His hair was a medium brunette, parted to the side so he had bangs and it was creeping down his neck. You could tell he put a lot of effort into his hair with how it was styled and cut. The black leather jacket and dark blue button down complimented his dark washed jeans well and his boots looked like they were prestine. This man definitely cared about his looks, whether only slightly or a lot was still up for debate. The one thing that stuck out to you the most was his gaze. His eyes were blue, like the ocean and the sky mixed together.
Usually, you’d find that stare unsettling, but his carried a sense of friendliness and humor.
“No, I’m early,” you replied, eyes trailing him as he put a tray of iced coffees on his desk. He stuck out his hand to shake and you accepted it. He had a firm, yet relaxed handshake.
“Hunnigan told me your coffee order. Cold brew with a quad shot, oatmilk, and hazelnut,” he smiled as he held out the cup to you.
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you nodded. “Yeah, thanks,” you said and took the cup, sipping on it.
“You know, that amount of caffeine will give you a heart attack….” He trailed off as he watched you suck the coffee down to half empty in about a few seconds. His face was a mix of horror and respect.
“Trust me, I’ve had four of these in a day before. I’ll be fine,” you said, coming up for air after demolishing half of the coffee. You put it down on the floor by the chair leg so you wouldn’t finish it yet.
“Damn, okay,” Leon chuckled and sat down in his chair. “So, (L/n)….” He said. “Not that I don’t think you can handle this sort of work…”
Your eyes met his, your frown almost souring. This time, you had hoped it would be different. Sure, you didn’t look like you could put in the hard work that the DSO did, but you were here.
“If you’re questioning my skills, then yours should also be questioned. Our stories are more alike than you think,” you retorted.
The words came out of your mouth before you could think, and you regretted them instantly. Grabbing the coffee, you got ready for Leon to tell you off and kick you out of his office, but looking up you saw him holding back a… chuckle?
“Someone’s read up on me,” He said, the hitch in his voice from laughter evident. “I take back what I said,” He added and gave you a slight smile.
He handed you a piece of paper, the top reading “Agent Contract D.S.O.”.
“I’m looking forward to working with you, (L/n),” He said, handing you a pen.
“Same, and you can call me (Y/n).” You replied, signing the paper.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* : 。゚☆. ───
“(Y/n)?” Two voices that were mixing together in your mind woke you up. Your eyes shot open and you registered the pain in your body first, the difficulty breathing second, and the cell you were in last.
“(Y/n)?” A familiar voice said again. You turned your head to where the voice was coming from and saw a familiar face you couldn’t quite make out yet.
Once your eyes adjusted, her face came into focus; a brunette ponytail, blue eyes, and a striking red leather jacket.
“..Claire..?” You asked groggily. She seemed to be in the same boat as you; her movements sluggish, her breathing labored.
“Yeah…. Chris is here too…” she said and gestured to the wall behind her.
“What are you two doing here?” You asked between breaths.
“Terrasave and the BSAA are checking out a source for bioweapons,” Chris’s voice was heard saying. “I’m guessing if you’re here, then Leon is too.”
“Yeah.. we’re here tracing a robotics engineer,” you added. Looking around the cell, you saw another person in there. Once you made out his face, your eyes widened. “And what do you know, guess I found him, Antonio Taylor.” You added.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* : 。゚☆. ───
Catch it early on my AO3!
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deepdisireslonging · 1 year
Text
Haunted by the House of Black
What it would be like to feel like you’re being watched… by something not of this plane? Lingering touches that first startle, then intrigue?
Pairing: Neutral gender!Reader x Malakai Black/Brody King/Buddy Matthews/Julia Hart
Warnings/Promises: SMUT, horror aspects, masturbation, voyeurism, oral (reader and House receiving), dub-con, edging (?)
Word Count: 1400
Note: 18+ only please. I’ve got the note on my blog, but I had a 15 year-old reblog one of my fics last week. I am not your mother. I can’t tell you what not to engage with. But please note that interacting with art above your age group can and will get the creator in trouble, even if it is your actions and they had nothing to do with it besides create the art. So please, wait until you’re 18 before reading. For those 18 and older, please enjoy. Heavily inspired by this post, and this, and this.
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Being haunted would include:
·        Moving into your new house. It’s old, but you think it’s sweet and full of character. The first room you sat up was your bedroom.
·        What better way is there to break in a new place but with some self-pleasure?
·        There was the usual uneasiness of being alone in a new space. It grew as you undressed, but you knew it would dissipate after a few nights. You put on your headphones to further block out the house settling noises. All you heard was your favorite music or audio that helps you get into the right headspace.
·        If the air is cool, it’s because your body started to warm up. You writhe and tease your skin in the ways that make your core tingle. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. Release is inevitable when you’re the one pulling your own strings.
·        Just as you focused to reach the end, one hand on your chest, the other between your legs, you felt a breath on your skin. And the sensation of a finger flicking your nipple.
·        You cum, but you ripped out your headphones as the orgasmic quakes cut short. You were alone. Of course.
·        It’s just a new house. It’s just a new house. It’s just a new house.
·        The mantra plucked at your thoughts over the next week. The stack of boxes piled up in your various rooms dwindled. But there was something more.
·        Whisps of air breezing over your skin.
·        The sound of shoes over the floorboards when you were sitting or standing still. Sometimes multiple sets.
·        The sensation of being watched followed around your house. It disappeared any time you spun around looking for peepholes, figures in the windows, or anything else your imagination could come up with as an explanation.
·        Fully unpacked, you set yourself to take a long, hot, self-indulgent shower. The only room in the house without windows. The steam breathed into your lungs, relaxing away the anxiety. Suds washed away the ache in your muscles. And washing your hair gave you an excuse to knead your temples and massage your head to your full desire. Robbed of your former “me-time”, you shifted your hands to your chest. Soon you brought your nipples to peaks.
·        You shifted your hands down, leaning against the shower wall and closing your eyes. The hum overtook your skin.
·        Completion was still a ways away when your eyelids fluttered open. Through the steam and the condensation on the shower wall, you could have sworn you saw eyes. Instead of being terrified, a different type of warmth filled you.
·        Whispers filed like static into your ears. Promises of what could be yours. If you only said yes.
·        A hand smeared through the condensation.
·        Another gripped your hip. Something took a deep breath next to your neck, inhaling the scent of your need.
·        Terror overtook pleasure. You ducked under the water, using it like a shield, and clamped your eyes shut tight. A few breaths later, you opened them again.
·        The handprint was gone.
·        Over the next several weeks, the touches became more bold.
·        At breakfast, a hand rested on the back of your neck, or the top of your head.
·        During your work from home, the trailing of fingers up your legs. Despite wearing your thickest pants, they still felt like skin against skin.
·        As you prepared for bed, lips kissed your back between your shoulder blades. A set of four, all at different heights along your spine. All at once.
·        At night, whispers told you to say yes. They passed wet dreams into your sleep. You woke up with a growing ache between your thighs, and a buzz in your skull.
·        Some days were quiet. Others were filled with quick touches that made you question your sanity.
·        One day they left you completely alone. You almost missed having them. And you said as much… out loud.
·        The next day, the larger pair of hands pined you to a wall as two mouths places chaste kisses to either side of your neck.
·        After a month and a half, you were ready to give in.
·        You began again, searching for the release that had been denied you since moving in.
·        No headphones this time. Just you… and the energies that creeped in. You wandered around your house, palming yourself. You stopped in the dinning room.
·        They waited until you were panting with need.
·        When the first hand smoothed across your skin, you didn’t flinch. Its match joined int the exploration. Another pair smoothed up your legs. A third landed heavily on your shoulders, massaging and moving you to lay across the table like a sacrifice or a meal. The fourth pair of hands, smaller, landed on your collarbone. Not tightening.
·        As one, they all stilled.
·        Waiting.
·        You took a deep breath.
·        “Yes.”
·        The small hands gently constrict around your neck. The others toyed with whichever part of you was closest to their grasp.
·        One hand eased over your sex, flicking its thumb over your most sensitive places. Tightening. Twisting. Curling. Another hand toyed at your puckered hole. The hands on your shoulders held you down as you writhed.
·        It’s so much. Their touch was cool against your flushed skin. Mouths placed wet kisses over your figure, leaving nothing behind. And, under the sounds panting out between your lips, the increased breathing of four other beings puffed. It chilled the air. You wondered if a ring of salt would have prevented all this.
·        Something harder and longer than fingers traces over your lips. You open your mouth and use your tongue. It’s odd working something cold and invisible. But it reaches the back of your throat without choking you. Why would it need to. The hands around your throat tightened as your arousal increased.
·        Another invisible cock slid across your sex, bumping and teasing while a mouth covered your heat. With the movement at your back, phasing through your table like it was nothing, you were soon full everywhere.
·        The arousal that had been building hovered out of reach.
·        No matter how you pleaded around the cock in your mouth, writing in the eight hands that gripped you, they prevented you from cumming.
·        The ghosts were reaching for and end of their own. The more they filed you, the more your energy depleted. Were they taking it from you? Or were they working you that much that you were spent?
·        Between blinks, you began to see the forms of your guests.
·        Three large men, two of which were covered in tattoos. The largest at your head, pinning you down and filling your mouth. The other two lower on your body. The tattoo-less one worked his mouth over your sex. The third, with the piercing eyes you saw in the shower, filling you. And a woman, sliding herself across your stomach.
·        Their forms were see-through, but each thrust and moan gave them another layer of opaqueness.
·        Resigned to wait for them, you let them use you. Moving and humming when you can, you took what they gave.
·        The woman suddenly tightened her grip. She tossed her head back as her body was wracked in shudders.
·        At that sight, the cock in your mouth swelled. A few more desperate pumps followed before it filled you, spilling past your lips.
·        The other two did their best to work you to completion. With two less weights on your arousal, you rapidly careened towards the end. The tattoo-less one came first, drawing away so he could spill on your stomach.
·        Finally, the last ghost refused to fill you until your walls clamped down on his cock. For the first time, you heard his shout twinged with the groan of release. His eyes bored into you as you came, shivering and filled with endorphins to the point where you felt like you were floating. Maybe you actually were.
·        Each one stroked you till you were at ease. Then, one by one, in the order they came, faded out of view with your name as a whisper.
·        The last stoked your cheek before he went.
·        “We’ll take care of you soon, liefje.”
·        You slipped off to sleep.
·        Awakening the next morning, you had been moved to your bed. You were clean and the only ache in your body was the familiar one that followed after a pleasant evening of pleasure.
You hoped they take care of you often.
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silverquillsideas · 3 months
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wip tag
Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.  Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips.
tagged by @nuwildcat and @sunshinesanctuary <3
okay so, since I am both a fanartist and the occasional writer, I'll talk about both lmao
I might be an exception to the "artist with 10000 WIPs" rule cuz I never work with more than 3-4 WIPs and even that is extremely rare, when I'm working on zines or commissions lol. my rule is, if I start a drawing, I'll finish it, since my workflow is pretty fast and I don't like to spend more than an hour or two max on a single piece 🥲
for arts, I only have 2 WIPs currently, and both are called "untitled" since procreate has a gallery view and I don't need to see the names to know which file I'll work on, so I never name them lololol :D
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First is of my OCs, the other is of MileApo (very self indulgent, I know 🥹)
for fics, I have.... uh... 11???? I think???? 😭
going from oldest to newest :
prologue : mileapo
chap 1 : ra and aveda (a very ambitious man suang centric fic, with reincarnation, royalty, political conflict- I started last year even before we got the character names lol. the prologue : mileapo is the first part of this)
tinngun part 3 (continuation of the Uni AU tinngun)
push and pull (Geminifourth, fluff ???)
untitled (geminifourth / heartliming / behind the scenes)
a long way home (mileapo)
untitled (heartliming, new york AU, memory loss and time loop)
what color is desire, if not blue? (north/tinn, angst)
first snow, last love (will you stay?) (geminifourth, fluff and angst)
maybe this is how it's supposed to be (north/gun, AU, currently under work, so, a proper WIP :D)
eclipsed chapter 7 (tinngun, heartliming, northnight, Underground fighter AU, currently working!)
uhhh... I really don't know that many people to tag, but :
@theflowergirl @abstractelysium @athousandbyeol @khathastrophe @trilliastra @bevioletskies @ssuviss @alternatepen @littleragondin @solana-ceae
(only if you want to!!)
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kestrel-wylde · 5 months
Note
Okay so this might be stupid but I'd love to hear more about your TSOT AU of you're willing to share!
OCs, worldbuilding, storyline, whatever you'd like!
I loved the art and music you've shared about it so far and would love to know more!
ooh ty sm!!!! Ok there's A LOT
I assume you're intrigued with the Nimona part so I'll talk about that here
OCs!:
Kestrel:
OK, so my shameless self-indulgent over-powered self-insert, Kestrel.
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He's a primarily humanoid being with the ability to mimic the physiology of other creatures by forming a telepathic bond with them, in a similar way to shapeshifting – called Mimicking.​
He lives outside of the Kingdom with his gryphon family, Cloud-hopper the Moonhide, Etheria the Deadly Bristlespine, Phoenix the Bearded Firefang, Speckles the Hobblegrunt, and Pebbles the Gruntle, who he was raised with but steals various things from the Kingdom.​ This is how he met Meredith (yup)
Cloud-hopper:
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Plot event happened (Mimicked Nimona) and then he gained the abilities to shapeshift freely, like Nimona.
Meredith:
​Not technically an oc, but I sorta adopted her.
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Scientist of the Silver Society - composed of scientists, and magical people.
(Ex)Princess Raina:
Queen Valerin's daughter.
I doodle her a lot but I don't seem to have any digital art of her.
Worldbuilding:
The Kingdom is situated on the island of Tomorrow in the Scattered Archipelago. It's a big island.
It used to be the place where the great Kings of the Archipelago lived – it was a beautiful trading hub and had several villages. Gryphons and humans lived here in peace and harmony. 
After the death of Peregrine (son of one of the old kings), when gryphons were now seen lesser than humans, Tomorrow was abandoned as the tribes lost their unity. 
When Kestrel the Third (long story) became King after hundreds of years, the School of Gryphons was established on Tomorrow, where humans from all over the archipelago could learn to live in harmony with gryphons and train them. 
Kestrel didn’t act as the Kings before did, the tribes weren’t united under one rule, just strong allies. 
Rainfall was in charge of the school and Queen (technically). 
The school grew and became a new kingdom, separated into many villages, a village was destroyed in a terrible fire ‘caused’ by the shapeshifter, Nimona. Nimona was banished by Gloreth, and all gryphons, as if pulled away with an invisible force, vanished over the course of 100 years. 
Gloreth trained an elite group of knights, and the kingdom of Tomorrow was fortified, each village becoming a district of the vast kingdom, with Rainfall’s descendants as the monarch, and Gloreth and her knights’ descendants as the ‘heroes of the realm’. 
The Deadly Bristlespine is the symbol of the monarchy – as Rainfall’s gryphon was one. 
Ballister helps Kestrel modify Speckles’ prosthetic leg. 
Nimona and Phoenix get along well and are both pink and enjoy arson. 
Ambrosius immediately adopts Pebbles. 
Storyline:
Basically, Kestrel goes to the Kingdom to steal some stuff from the Silver Society to create a prosthetic leg for Speckles. Whilst there, the end of the Nimona film occurs (the explosion).
A week or so later, Meredith messages Kestrel saying to come to the Kingdom. Large masses of gryphons are in the Kingdom and the wall has a massive entrance through it. The monarchy was ended and the queen's daughter - Raina, didn't want to be queen. The Kingdom was electing a new Director and it's called the Agency now and a democracy.
Anyways, the point is, Meredith was looking through the Institute's files and found a current active plan involving Jaderoot, where the old Director's (who i very super subtly named Joanne) followers were gassing forests with Jaderoot (which is a funky drug to gryphons) and luring them into the Kingdom. They intend to create a gryphon army to fight against the 'monsters' in the Kingdom.
Kestrel finds Nimona who's trying to come back, but doesn't have enough magic and Mimicks her, helping her channel magic, bringing her back, and also unlocking his full abilities.
The three team up with (ex)Princess Raina, Ballister, and Ambrosius to find out who's behind the Jaderoot plot, and stop them. Kestrel gets kidnapped and experimented on in the process (traumatic). Etheria bonds with Raina; Speckles with Ballister; Pebbles with Ambrosius; and Phoenix with Nimona.
Once the old Director's (Joanne's) followers are dealt with, most of the gryphons leave to their old homes, but many stay, befriending the people of the Kingdom.
Meredith notices a strange movement of magic, almost like it's being sucked off of the island/continent, there are also a few signs of a fight on the shores. Gryphons are distressed and something's up.
Kestrel, Raina, and Meredith leave the Kingdom to figure it out, and stumble into a huge war across the archipelago, with an army trying to conquer it all. They join the Rebellion.
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bonjourxrenae · 2 months
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Some .hack//YGO AU thoughts under the Read More, bc if I don’t breathe it into existence it will NEVER BE………
I'm drawing self-indulgent arts and strips about it... might make it a fic someday...? idk
My partner Quill (@themadcaptain) and I are putting characters in situations again, and we’re here in the hit online MMO The World
*Yuki Kajiura's The World playing softly in the background*
We've really only ever seen .hack//SIGN and between us, we've maybe played 3 out of 4 of the PS2 games (we started replaying .hack//Infection a while back) so our knowledge of the series is vague and limited at best... I'll look into the rest, but .hack is just a large multimedia franchise with SO MUCH BACKGROUND STUFF HAPPENING
anyway, BACKGROUND STUFF (assuming you know nothing of the .hack series):
The World is a fairly standard VR-enabled MMORPG, but otherwise functions as any other MMO does. It was originally created by programmer Harald Hoerwick under the name Fragment.
The story behind The World itself is largely based on an epic poem known as the Epitaph of the Twilight, written by fictional poet Emma Wieland. Hoerwick was infatuated with Wieland, and when she died, he created Fragment in order to immortalize her work. Fragment, and subsequently The World, contains a secret black box project he had been working on: the ultimate AI named Aura. In universe, this black box data exists within the game, but it is unable to be analyzed. CC Corp, the company that buys Fragment from Hoerwick, beta tests it (with beta testing ending early for unknown reasons), and releases an upgraded version known as The World.
Because of the presence of this Ultimate AI, a lot of mysteries crop up in game, and some players are met with disaster as a result (ie. many fall into comas, have their consciousness trapped in game, etc etc.) and CC Corp is trying to cover up these disasters by deflecting responsibility. However, the AI has been aiding hackers within the game in stopping the mysterious corruption in the game's files.
...SO WHERE DO THE YUGIOH DUDES COME IN?
The parallels between Harald Hoerwick and Pegasus are obvious. It would also be really cool to have his dead fiancée have more of a role other than being Pegasus's muse and motivation. (Also, if you've played the .hack games and seen the creatures in game, then you know this is something he would have absolutely created.) I don't know much about Wieland, but it's implied that she was using Hoerwick's research and talents for her own ends, which is fascinating.
I like the idea of Kaiba Corp collaborating with I2 on this game, with I2 selling it to KC... I also imagine KC still having Gozaburo and The Big Five who would be dismissive of the players' concerns about the comas and such, going so far as to delete forum threads and accounts just to save face...
Then we have Seto Kaiba. The future CEO of Kaiba Corp. Current leader of the Cobalt Knights (group of admins in The World working for KC), and this AU's stand in for Balmung of the Azure Skies Eyes (hehe). I imagine he has NO IDEA what's going on behind those closed doors, but eventually learns what role KC is playing in regards to all of this, and vows to put an end to it on his terms. I also like to believe Mokuba is also part of the Cobalt Knights, and is one of the victims who gets his consciousness trapped in the game, very much like Tsukasa from .hack//SIGN.
And Noa Kaiba? Big Morganna Energy... In .hack//SIGN, Morganna was created to oversee the birth of the Ultimate AI, but would ultimately rebel from this purpose, stalling the development of the Ultimate AI and setting off a lot of disastrous events. I imagine Noa would also be, like, the consciousness uploaded into the system - the one who could access the black box data - but could not export it to KC. With his own father abandoning him within the mainframe, Noa is working to destroy the game from the inside out... and he's responsible for trapping Mokuba in-game.
I feel like if one's consciousness can be uploaded into the MMO, I think it could stand to reason that ghosts and spirits can exist there too...
Alright, so there's some background info... and sadly we're a bit intimidated trying to tackle it all, and also trying to keep up with the different continuities between the different anime and the video games... one day, we'll figure it out... and one day I won’t be too intimidated to tackle this story from Kaiba’ POV…
I’ll probably make a separate post about what everyone else’s role is in The World a bit later!!! owo;;
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fereldanwench · 10 months
Text
OC Zodiac/Astrology Color Palette Game
Tagged by @corpocookie and @morganlefaye79--Thank you, bbs! 💙💙💙
The color palettes are here, and you can find future dates for birth charts here. (Also, if your OC is a Night City baby and you didn't already know, you can use Morro Bay as an approximate location.)
Valerie's Birth Chart Colors:
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I'm not much of an astrology person, but I did search her chart a little so here are some traits that I think are applicable (not a part of the assignment, but here's some extra credit, haha).
Keywords for a Libra Sun Taurus Moon: Sensitive taste; love of music and art; cooperative; good business sense; a campaigner for social welfare; sentimental; affectionate; understanding; generous; nurturing; romantic; self-indulgent; ability to infect others with happiness and laughter; vanity; stylish; upper class.
(I'll put the rest under a cut since it's long and mostly for me anyway, lmao.)
Tagging: @ur-friendly-nbhd-cardassian, @clusterfxckedbysirens, @medtech-mara, @valsilverhand, @therealnightcity, and @beammeupbroadway! 💙
Venus, the planet of romance, peace, and harmony, rules both signs of the Libra Sun Taurus Moon combination, giving you an enchanting personality and a remarkably even disposition. Charm, diplomacy, and kindness work to your advantage in life. On the surface, with a Libra Sun Taurus Moon you may seem as restless and high-strung as your fellow Librans, but you always retain an underlying quality of purpose and stability. Your approach to the world is always even, benevolent, and forgiving. With a Libra Sun Taurus Moon, you are very sensual and materialistic, you love luxury and comfort—but you need to be careful that pleasure does not an end in itself. You have many gifts to offer the world, but you always run the risk of lapsing into lethargy and/or overindulgence. As with all Moon in Taurus people, you are capable of assuming great responsibility, and you possess the determination and inner resolve to push yourself to the top of the ladder. But you may be tempted to remain in a pleasing, comfortable, and tension-free environment, instead of one that is high-paced. If you were born with Scorpio Rising, you put the whole force of your personality behind everything you do. You are not a halfway person. Scorpio Rising individuals have an intensity, a dynamism that seethes and roils under the surface. Your willpower and determination are formidable. Clever, creative, and resourceful, with Scorpio Rising, your fertile mind seems to be an inexhaustible source of ideas and suggestions. Your brain behind your cool facade is always ticking away. One of the things you must do is find out how something works, to dissect it, study it, and put it back together so that it works better. With Scorpio Rising, you are usually quietly watching, waiting, observing— filing away information that will be useful later on. Scorpio Rising individuals have a reputation for a sharp temper; the reputation is deserved. When crossed, you can be cruel and biting. You tend to use any weapon at your disposal—from ridicule to playing on a person’s fears. In the heat of that moment, the Scorpio Rising must be the victor. Later, you are remorseful for having dealt wounds, though it is extremely hard for you to say so. Scorpio is the astrological sign of hidden passion; Scorpio Rising individuals tend to have a secret love affair at least one time in their lives, and usually marry more than once. They may suffer more financial setbacks and disappointments than other rising signs; but no other sign is more victorious in the end. As a Scorpio Rising individual you tend to have sharp features, a prominent nose, and large, hypnotic eyes. Sometimes your brows are thick and dark. Your body is agile and moves decisively.
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mortellanarts · 2 years
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Doodle dump of the Kurashiki siblings in a bunch of different outfits because I think about them every single day of my life
(Self indulgent explanation of my thought process for each and every one of these under the cut!)
Okay, the veeery first one I'm just calling a header since it's the third drawing with more color so I can use it to keep my friends spoiler free on other platforms, I'll be ignoring it when saying "first" "second" yadda yadda it doesn't count okay akdhsk
Yes the actual first one is a twewy crossover where Akane's composer and Aoi's her conductor! It wasn't my idea and I don't like thinking about the logistics of that whole scenario, I just really really wanted to draw the cool wings and fashionable outfits and it is yet another way to frame their dynamic that really grabbed my attention. Here's a version without wings too!!
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Ok, the second one was the first thing on this file, I was just in a mood™ from thinking about their dynamic in the canon divergent post second nonary game headcanons I have in my head, really wanted to draw Akane in a hair bun and Aoi with an inverted color scheme too, but yeah the idea was each of them off to do their thing and venting about each other, probably to Junpei and Light but I gave up on adding details to the scenario and nearly scrapped it, it's only here because that post about sketchy and scribbly art made it's way to my dash and made me go y'know what I like this as is
Third one was just because I saw this one hairband at the store and immediately thought of Aoi wearing it and couldn't get it out of my head until I drew it, turned it into him and Akane wearing party looks while doing recon or something, Akane ends up feeling uncomfortable with showing skin despite having asked for help picking the clothes out herself, I also really liked how she looks in this her hair turned out super pretty
The last two full body ones are the outfits I imagined for my fics!! I wasn't sure about posting it cause I like to let people imagine whatever they want but I still personally needed to get it out of my head, especially when I started thinking of all the headcanons for the notes, which aren't terribly legible I am sorry for that, like Akane with shorter hair because she had a fit of Not Feeling Fully There and cut a chunk of it off herself to feel like she could still affect things and also fully knowing she has enough time for it to grow back past her shoulders again, and Aoi having pierced his ear himself just out of boredom or discontentment or something, those two things could be smaller fics in on themselves so I needed to draw it, and that was all for the pre second nonary game fic I made!!
The pre vlr one I only drew anything for because I tried before and didn't enjoy the result, so I very impulsively tried my hand at it again
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So yeah that's that! I also made a little comic strip alongside these that I'll post shortly, I genuinely love these outfit drawings two so much, thank you for reading my rambles qwq
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ipromiseimawriter · 5 months
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WIP TITLE GAME
RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
Tagged by @zahnie - thank you omg!!
From most recently worked on to least (roughly): (I tend to be pretty literal with these for the most part, if they don't already have a title)
destiel fix it fic - draft 2: is what it says on the tin. I will get to chipping at the end of this godforsaken series, so hELP ME. I do have a fancy lil summary though (this could get edited later but y'know!!):
“What are you doing? Dean, no–!” “You asked me to stop you. So I’m stopping you.” ( As promised, the Empty came for Castiel when his soul called. When it sang a happiness so profound that nothing else could possibly contain it. But Dean wasn’t ready to let go – and if you were to ask him, he’d swear he had failed Cas one too many times. So when the time came, he sank right down with him. )  Chuck could’ve called it, really. But there’s no biblical preparation for their journey through the Empty. It’s all up to them, now, while Sam and Jack (and friends) race to undo Chuck’s damage to the world. Alternating POV. 15x18 CODA/Fix-It Fic for end of 15x18/15x19 & beyond [15x20 who is she lmao]
destiel theatre bitches AU: an incredibly self-indulgent AU where Dean and Castiel are professors for a theatre department at a (made-up) small liberal arts school somewhere in Kansas. Cas is a new arrival to the department who's making waves (and suggesting some batshit shows for production), Dean's the gruff and well-loved scene shop head/tech professor who doesn't like his toes getting stepped on (jk yes he does), and they're gonna be soooo normal about it (me when i lie). nearly everyone and their mom is in this AU. we have fun here
Welcome to Purgatory: an original work (longform)! a story inspired by my time interacting with SPN/with other horror-fantasy adjacent medias, some characters I've had for 1000 years, and just - fucking around and finding out. I def tried to NaNoWriMo it before, to no such luck, so I just chip at it on my own time. I've got a running tag for it if you're ever interested! (old summary)
Jules Herrick went missing without a trace in the early nineties, and his hunting partner, Simon Villanova, never saw him again. We jump ahead about twenty-five years and realize why he should’ve stayed missing. Victor and Amelia are two childhood friends separated by time and responsibility, reuniting for what should be a normal road trip under less fortunate circumstances - the death of a mutual friend. However, the trip is quickly derailed by a strange pursuer that sends them on the run, and into action.  The people who catch up with them to help are not what they expect. The lives their families have led were kept from the two for safety. But between a rogue demon, its lost hellhound, and a secret organization hunting down the missing man and his cohorts, one question must be asked: What does Jules Herrick want with the end of the world, as they know it?
go catch a sunset (stanford-era dean/the outsiders bullshit): a Stanford-era Dean fic (which has 2 chapters up!) that I sort of use as my lil swimming pool for figuring ideas out? Mostly just speculation and big character thoughts on that very vulnerable time. I'm v much looking forward to introducing both Bobby and Cassie soon, getting some Winchester drama, and picking at those good backstory characters.
mama barracuda (WIP title - eldritch horror type shit): an original work (short story). "There's a monster in the woods, just off the beaten path from Hope's home. She isn't the first to be trapped into position of Keeper for the Barracuda of the Backwoods, but she is the first - in a very long time - to truly understand her. They call her Mama." So essentially - monster collects teeth for her own rotting mouth. Sisyphean effort on the Keeper's part. Symbiotic parasite/mother-daughter type shit. LOTS TO UNPACK.
honorable mention: a bunch of plays and other lil bits that would take me too long to describe <333
tagging: @subtlefires, @disabled-dean , @butchabouttown, @luckshiptoshore , and anyone who wants to play! (this includes all my friends who may see this and go "hey i have wips". give it to me. i want to see it)
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butchsophiewalten · 1 year
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twf questions if you feel like em!
favourite findjackwalten moment so far?
favourite scrapped asset/concept/teaser tidbit?
favourite shitpost doodle we've gotten?
what's one completely self indulgent twf idea you'd enjoy seeing as a fully made scene if you could? (disregarding whether it fits well into the story or not)
Good Questions! Under the cut 'cause it's a little long:
1. This is so hard. I love FindJackWalten. I think my favorite moment would be the Jan 1st 2022 update in general, if just because I have really good memories of exploring all the new stuff with my friends. My favorite individual pages I think would be the first iteration of /sophiewalten and the July 7th version of /jackwalten (with the mounted deer). A close runner up is /rosemarysartroom.
2. THIS IS SO HARD !!!!!!!!!! Honestly I think my favorite teaser is this one of Rosemary that was sent to Waltenews. My favorite scrapped thing is honestly probably one of the former patreon things i'm not willing to share.
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3. Big fan of this one always. I love the idea of really awkward interactions between Jack and Jenny it's so funny to me.
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4. Maybe this is a weird one But I really like the idea of a Bunny Smiles branded Anti-drinking PSA. Like a really cheesy money-grubbing one, right on the cusp of the D.A.R.E. and the Reagan administration's manufactured drug scare. You'd have to be really low-key with it otherwise I think it would feel really heavy-handed and patronizing, but in the perfect amounts I think it could be a really special way to emphasize Felix's greed in all the best ways. Where you're submerged a bit in the capitalistic sludge resulted from all the ways Felix has whored this brand out to recoup his losses. And you're confronted both with Felix's hypocrisy and with this sort of defilement of this project both him and Jack once cared very deeply for.
Connecting to the idea of Jack always hating cartoons and other thoughtless kiddie shit and maybe thinking Bon's Burgers could be better than it, a technological marvel that could be far more sophisticated. And then he dies in a way Felix is ambiguously responsible for and he turns their shared art project into a thoughtless branding machine. That's all maybe too staunchly anticapitalist for what The Walten Files is probably trying to say, but it's an idea I think is really fun.
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kaleschmidt · 2 years
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scott | vance | mort | file | grave , it/he/dial
Art blog is @laplacesdevil
I mostly reblog stuff, but might make some og posts time to time?? normal posts (lie). Sometimes I lurk, though. I'll add more to this post if need be
I tend to tag comfort chars in a pic (most of the time. I kinda forget .), so jic i tag certain characters n not others, that's why
Carrd
My extra tags under cut
Grave's Digs -> normal text tag
TabbyKat Rambles -> my very self-indulgent tkp tag where I ramble everything tkp in. Also my dsaf interps occasionally
Scottify -> my tag where I show off my monthly receiptify. If I remember
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chiisana-lion · 2 months
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i have a good chunk of my art saved on my phone separated into three different folders categorised into 1) school stuff mostly, okay to show family or ppl should they ask the inevitable question of can i see your art when i mention being an artist 2) personal art, relatively okay to show friends or people i probably wont talk to much and 3) extremely self indulgent art for me to look at under my desk in private and giggle to myself (has the most amount of files)
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