#ITS BREAKING ME OUT OF MY ART BLOCK BY FORCE

[meatcatt]

Once brilliant Fount of Knowledge, the source of all there is to know, now lay shattered.... Crushed under the weight of it's own contradictions.

[matamisin]

*sad beat-boxing*

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fanfic.

six.

[five] [six] [seven]

empty tomorrow of its sorrows.

Plopping down in a swivel chair after getting ready for the day you scroll on Instagram. Humming a quiet tune as you check your own following on your art account. It has been a while since you stalked yourself, you wanted to see if there were any new accounts that had followed you since the last time you scanned through it. 

The first person on the top of that little list wasn’t who you were expecting. Smiling you clicked on his account. Viktor. 

You go through his stuff like you hadn’t done it a million times before after meeting him. You were actually about to go meet him at the cafe.

Seeing him on Saturday shocked you, you didn’t think it was his scene. It really wasn’t but his friends kept him company. You would’ve too if you weren’t running around, helping your friends and making sure they weren’t getting too drunk. You tried to speak with Viktor whenever you had the chance though. 

Now going through his following you see a familiar name that makes your heart drop to your stomach. A mutual with the art account, m.herald2077. Viktor knows him?

M.herald2077 didn’t block you on your art account? Wait. 

That���s right, he got logged out of this account. You were on the phone with him when it happened. He couldn’t remember the password and when he blocked you on everything you couldn’t get yourself to unfollow this stupid account that wasn’t being controlled by anyone anymore. 

“Is he Ma?” You whispered, standing up from your spot and beginning to panic. They have similar accents. They could be related?

No, his highlight is labeled Ma. That’s what you called him. They have to be the same person. A lump builds in your throat. You couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to. They were the same person. 

Tears stream down your cheeks as your chest heaves. You grip at the skin, practically clawing at it. The memories flooding in your head. 

“Why would you say that?” His voice breaks and you wrack out a sob. “Ma, I swear! It wasn’t me, I promise! My friend- ugh she took my phone while I was in the bathroom, I’m just now seeing these messages!” You cry out, pleading with your friend to trust you. “How would she know such… private details I told you?” He asks, holding back his own tears, rereading the words on his screen that had come from your account. 

“I had vented to her, I was upset for you and I just. I thought I could trust her! It’s so not right what I did. I’m sorry! But I swear, I would never think those things!” You stammer, the other line goes quiet. “I don't think I can’t trust you anymore… I’m sorry but wow. I- I gotta go. Live a nice life.” And before you could say anything the phone hung up. 

Leaving you to wail, crying into a pillow as you had just lost one of the closest friends you’ve ever had. 

“Sh-shit.” You squeeze your eyes shut, the liquid from your eyes dripping right down the flesh of your face. You open your phone back up, going to the old account. You knew he’d never see it. You typed out a long, long paragraph. Apologizing, explaining what you never got to over that phone call. Rubbing your lips together, the screen gets blurry at moments when your tears built up, forcing you to blink them away.  

You read it over numerous times before your shaky finger presses send. You close out of it. Staring at the time. 

Now you have to go see Viktor after this discovery. Your heart tightening. You felt like throwing up. How could you look him in the face and not tell him you hurt him the way you did years ago. 

You didn’t know what to do. You could cancel on him. Avoid the cafe for the rest of your life. Switch your chem class. Never see him, protect him from you. He’d never know. 

No. You couldn’t do that. He doesn’t deserve you to treat him horribly twice in his life. Maybe this can be a redo. He’ll never know it was you. And after this semester if you don’t end up having classes with one another again you can go your separate ways and never speak.

Not hurting either person. 

Hopefully.

You grab your backpack, slipping it over your shoulders. You wiped the wetness off of your face. Sniffling to try and hide the evidence of crying.

Viktor takes a sip of his hot, roasted black coffee. Tapping the table as he focused his attention on his laptop screen. Looking over the rules of the Chemistry project he and [Name] had to do together. Figuring out a set plan for the two.

Beside his device was an iced coffee, the cup covered in condensation. With that there’s a cherry danish sitting there. He had also grabbed multiple creamers and sugars that you could put in the cup yourself since he had seen you do it a few times. 

Every time the little bell rings from the front of the cafe his eyes would flicker over. Hoping that it was you even though you said you weren’t going to be there until 7:15. The same time every day. He checked the time, it was 7:14. 

And there you are right as it hits 15. You were rushing inside, wearing a baseball cap that covered your eyes. 

You make a b-line straight for Viktor’s normal spot, climbing into the booth. “Goodmorning!” You beamed, averting eye contact as you pulled out a notebook.

“Goodmorning,” One brow is raised as he observes you, you wouldn’t lift your head up as you immediately start to jot things down on the paper. “You seem… in a rush?” He inquires, sliding the iced coffee over along with the cherry danish. “Weren’t even going to order anything today?” Your movements freeze in place as your orbs land on them. 

You weren’t going to get yourself anything. On your way over you kept telling yourself you didn’t deserve to treat yourself like you normally do. You ogle at the nourishment in front of you. Tears build at the sight. Viktor watches how your face seems solemn. Your mouth stuck shut but your chin was quivering. A single tear falling down your left cheek. 

You were quick to wipe it away. Replacing your sad expression with a forced happy one. “Thank you so much!” You give him a close-eyed smile. “I’ll have to pay you back when I can!” You let out a raspy laugh, taking a bite of the cherry goodness. Since you lifted your head, he could see how puffy your eyes were. They were also red and a bit irritated signifying that you had been crying recently. 

“Why would you pay me back?” He cocks his head to the side, his eyebrows knitted together. He was worried to say the least. “I um,” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Because you didn’t have to do this! I’d feel bad not paying you for this!” You tell him, avoiding his gaze once again. 

“[Name], it’s what friends do. I don’t want your money. Plus you got me that coconut puff the other day. Should I pay you back for that?” His hand goes over to yours that was laid on the table. You shoot your head up. “No! I wouldn’t take your money even if you forced it into my hand!” You tell him with an angry expression and he chuckles. 

“Exactly. See. You’re not giving me anything for this either.” He pats the top of your hand before going back to his laptop. You stare at him for a few moments. Thinking about how you didn’t deserve this. 

You didn’t deserve an ounce of kindness from Viktor. 

You picked up the danish, slowly eating it. It would be rude if you wasted it. 

You notice the sugar packets and the little creamers alongside the iced coffee. You smile down at it. How’d he know? You open the lid of the drink, ripping open the first packet. Viktor peeked over to you. He pondered on what was wrong. Wondering if he should ask or not. But at the same time you clearly did not want to talk about it. You seemed like the type that if you wanted to you would’ve already done it. 

“So, you know our project? For Chem?” He speaks up, mentally cursing at himself because that’s what he chose to say? “Oh, yeah! What about it?” You close the lid of your coffee, taking a drink of it. 

“Well, I was thinking we should get that started. Maybe this weekend?” He offers, your gaze hardens a little bit before you smile.

Viktor takes note of every movement you make. How your demeanor is frequently changing. Like your mind is fighting with itself. “Sounds good! If we go to my place I’ll tell my roommate to not bother us for a few hours!” You snicker, knowing you literally will shut Powder out and tell her to go somewhere with herself for the day. 

“We could go to mine, I don’t have a roommate.” He shrugs his shoulders, wanting to make it simple for the both of you. “Oh that’s even better!” You gleam and he smiles. “Let’s do it on Saturday then, maybe around 1?” 

“Perfect.” You nod your head. 

You get a text from Viktor as you’re heading off campus, it was 2 pm and you had just finished your last class of the day. You look at your screen for a moment before opening the message. 

—------------------------------------------------

vik.tor_e- meet me outside science building in ten minutes?

love.[name]3- ok, im like two minutes from it 

vik.tor_e- i’ll be here 

love.[name]3- why’d you say in ten minutes then!? Lol

vik.tor_e- wanted to give you time >:(

love.[name]3- so silly :P

—-------------------------------------------------

You laugh at the boy, shaking your head as you redirect yourself to start heading to the science building. Picking up your pace now that you know he’s already there. You wondered what he could want to talk about.

The anxiety in the back of your mind was telling you that he had found out. That he wanted to go to your professor and change partners. 

You push the thoughts away once your eyes land on him, he was sitting on the bench right outside the doors. He notices you at the same time, both of you giving each other little waves. 

He stands himself up and you go over to him with a slight nervous expression. “What’s up?” You smile. “I have a list of things to get for the project. I was working on it this morning.” He hands you a paper with a printed list. You stare down at it. Thinking about where to get the stuff.

 “Okay! I’ll get it all before Saturday then.” You sternly say with a positive attitude. “Well, half of it, I’m getting. I put your name by the things you need to get.” He leans in your side, showing you on the paper what he’s talking about.

You take in his scent, half paying attention to him. Feeling his warmth on your arm. You felt like a creep as you snapped out of it when he backed away. What the heck was that?

He goes to say something but a person nudges into you, stopping the both of you from talking to one another. “Heyy, [Name]. Who’s this!?”

Maddie. 

Your jaw tightens, you look down to her. “This is my friend.” You respond, not telling her his name. She squints her eyes over to the boy as he awkwardly stands there. “You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?” She asks him, your breathing hitches. How would Maddie know Viktor? 

“Uh, I don’t think so.” He disagrees and she hums. “I know you, I swear.” She argues. She stares for a moment before shrugging her shoulders. “Oh well, I’ll figure it out.” She giggles. “I just wanted to say hi to [Name]. Bye now!” She gives you a quick, one-sided hug before scurrying off. 

Your face deadpans as you watch her go away. You then look back to Viktor. “Sorry about that.” You force out a dry laugh, clearly not that amused. He can tell you had a distaste for the girl but doesn’t question it. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Catch you tomorrow at the cafe?” He asks. 

“Of course!” You grin, the two of you now going separate ways. 

Once you get to your dorm you sit on your bed, relaxing into it before you get this weird sudden urge to want to paint. Randomly motivated to do this image you have in your head.

You dig underneath your loft bed, pulling out a large canvas along with a bunch of brushes and paint. 

taglist: if you want to be added lmk! @policedeer @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @confusedgemposts @ang3lz-lov3 @almostdrowningdown @corpsepies @obittwo @bakusquadobsessed @ren-ni

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Kinktober Post

Yandere Vampire x Princess in a tower

Kofi: https://ko-fi.com/cherie47467

TW: Mind control, drugging, blood, dubcon

In a dark tower in the woods, is a girl in a white nightgown. Her hands are bound by chains attached to a wall, and her neck is the same. From the looks of the room, she had been there for ages. Her face is thin, and her hair is as stringy as straw. She has waited for her hero to come, but it seems she may die before it happens. That girl was you. A princess who got put into a tower as a sick way to kill you so he can marry another. You wish your life was like one of those fairytales, but that seems impossible.

"Hello? Is anyone in here?" A voice yells, walking up the steps.

You try to make noise come out of your throat, but it's no use. You shake your arms a bit, rattling your chains. Your savior comes into your room, his eyes full of pity. He's the most beautiful man you've seen alive. His hair is long and black, his brown skin is as clear as glass, and his chiseled chest can't even be contained by his white v-neck blouse. Every part of his body is a work of art—especially those enchanting purple eyes of his.

"Oh, you poor darling. I'll get these chains off of you," The man says, breaking your chains with his bare hands. "Can you get up?"

You shake your head no, and he picks you up.

"Don't worry, I'll bring you to the carriage," He says, carrying your body out of the tower and to the outside world.

The sun blinds you, hurting your eyes as sunlight enters your eyes for the first time in a few months. You bury your head in your savior's shirt, trying to block out the light.

"Aw, darling, I had no idea you liked me so much," He chuckles, putting you in the carriage, drawing the curtains on the windows, and shutting the door. "Now that it's darker, why don't we start with an introduction? My name is Roman Beaudelaire, and I am one of the many dukes of this kingdom. I know your throat is too weak to speak, so I shall not force you to say anything."

You sigh and put your head on the sides of the carriage. Your body has never felt more tired.

"Once you're at my estate, you'll be taken care of. Now, rest. You need it," Roman says, his eyes looking more beautiful by the second.

You fall asleep, and when you wake up, you're in a bed with silky red and black sheets. Your old nightgown is gone, and you're wearing a new one that's pastel pink with bows on the sleeves. Its material is soft and makes you never want to take it off.

"Lunch, my darling?" Roman inquires, bringing in a plate of the finest foods to eat. "I brought some of the smaller crabs from the port, fruits, and some herbal tea. I hope you like it."

You touch a crab on the plate, feeling the texture of its body. It's been so long since you've seen the outside world, you've forgotten what some things are and look like. Roman chuckles, sitting on the bed, grabbing a crab from your plate, and cracks a leg for you. The meat looks so delicious and red you want to gulp it down immediately. You grab his hand, scarfing down the piece of crab meat.

"No need to rush, darling. I won't take the food from you. But please be sure to drink your tea. It'll help you feel better," Roman says, enjoying your reaction to the food.

You drink some of the tea, and your body instantly feels better. Your vocal cords feel like they're coated in honey, ready to speak forever.

"Woah, it really did help me feel better," You say, surprised you heard your own voice.

"I'll come back later to collect your dishes," Roman responds, kissing your cheek.

~~~~~~~~~~

For the past few days, you've been eating Roman's food and tea, and eventually, you've gained the strength to explore his estate. You've wandered through the gardens and walked through the library, touching every soft and dusty book. You've even managed to accidentally discover Roman's bedroom when you were exploring the hidden passageways. Admittedly, he escorted you out, before you could question the lack of light in his room, but you'll just ask him about it later when he visits for his nightly chat with you. Hours pass by while you wait in your bed for Roman. Eventually, the clock strikes twelve, and you fall asleep thinking you'll wake up with him on the other side of the mattress.

But you're sleep doesn't last long, as you hear a heavy creak above you. You open your eyes and find a pale creature with long fangs in Roman's clothes holding onto the ceiling. You make eye contact and scream, getting out of bed. You run for the door, but the creature appears before you.

"Please don't hurt me," You beg, back up to the bed.

"Don't you think you should pay me back for nursing you back to health from your disastrous condition? I put my own blood in the tea so your body could heal faster," Roman says, pushing you onto the bed. "Admittedly, the gradual blood loss made me look like a pale corpse, but it's all worth it. I get to have my own princess and soulmate to myself."

"How do you want me to pay you back?" You ask, watching Roman's finger go down your cheek.

"I want you. I want your body and blood," Roman answers, his dry lips kissing your neck. "Whichever one comes first is up to you."

"Blood."

Roman looks at you with his purple eyes, and you feel weak and aroused.

"That's it, relax and let your savior pleasure you," Roman says, slipping your night dress down.

He kisses your shoulder, then penetrates it with his teeth. You moan a little, and Roman plays with your breast. As he sucks the blood out, his dick begins to rise.

"Darling, can you do me a favor and unbuckle my pants?" He asks, chuckling at your horny state.

You do as he says, undressing his lower half and revealing his unnaturally veiny cock. By the time he's done feeding from you, he's returned to his youthful state, ready to get the second part of his deal. He pulls down the rest of your nightgown, letting it fall to the floor, your pussy clothed by white panties. He lays you on your pillow, lining his head with your entrance. He bites your inner thigh, making you moan like crazy.

"That's it, darling. You like having your skin bitten," Roman coos, looking at your damp underwear. "You look ready, do you think so, darling?"

When he looks up at you, your hand is in your panties, getting off to him biting you to the point you don't even notice he stopped.

"Ah, ah, naughty girl. I'm supposed to be the one giving you pleasure," Roman scolds, pulling the hand out of your underwear.

You whine for more pleasure, and he sticks his hand into your panties. He rubs his middle finger against your clit, making you spread your legs.

"Oh, you're ready, darling," Roman teases, rubbing his hand faster so you cum.

He uses his sharp nails to shred your underwear, and you lift your legs up to your head for him. Roman lines his cock with your entrance and doesn't wait to start slamming the entire thing inside. You scream with delight, gripping your legs. His rhythm is fast and steady as if he's been waiting for you for centuries. He holds your waist, his nails pressing into your skin and drawing blood.

"Ah, please! Make me cum again!" You beg, tears in your eyes, feeling the pleasure high build again.

Roman's pace gets faster, and he leans down to your neck. He bites your neck, pushing venom out of his fangs and into your bloodstream. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you cum all over Roman's dick. In an unexpected move of pleasure, you bite Roman's shoulder, and he shivers in ecstasy. His cock shoots ropes of semen into you, coating your walls white.

"Didn't know you could bite that hard?" Roman teases, licking the blood off your neck puncture holes. "Once the venom is throughout your body we'll have days like this forever."

Your eyes focus on Roman, and you see those purple eyes that enchanted you at first sight. You hug his body, snuggling your head on his shoulders.

"That's right, darling. Relax, I'll be taking care of you. No need to explore beyond my estate's walls," He says, rubbing your head. "You only need to focus on me and how we'll be making some changes to your kingdom."

He kisses you, his tongue exploring your teeth and feeling your canines become fangs. He pulls out of you, cum spilling out of your hole, and pulls the bedsheets on you. He lies next to you on the bed, opening his arms so you can snuggle with him. You gladly move into his arms, and enjoy the feeling of his sweaty skin. You place your hands on his massive pecks, and he laughs.

"And you say I like your boobs," He laughs, his free hand going to your ass. "But, I must say I like this better."

He gladly fondles and gropes your body as you drift off to sleep in pleasure.

[kyoukorpse]

Do you have any tips for drawing?

OKAYY this has been sitting for a while my apolocheese... i thiiink i might have answered a similar ask before (i did in fact) with some drawing tips... so this time i think i'll give some art advice on avoiding or coping with burnout <- guy who has spent most of its 20s with burnout, art block, and building a new relationship around art while working full time

one thing for sure i had to learn was how to trick myself into looking at art as a fun hobby and not more work, and it took a long time but it worked for me. takes some mental discipline, but well worth it. art comes easier when you see it as something fun throughout the whole process, and not more work. you have to want to do it.

don't always force yourself to finish something all in one go, especially without breaks. take breaks to get up, stretch, eat, drink, take care of yourself. you'll associate art with feeling better that way too. also, not everything needs to be done in one day, especially when it's for you. i stopped finishing things in one day a long time ago and it helped me find time to draw even on days i work. i always have time for art if i don't put pressure on finishing it the same day!!

NEVER force yourself to draw if you don't want to, same goes for writing or any creative endeavor. you'll burnout faster by forcing yourself and it'll feel like a chore and you'll grow a negative connection with your art which will make it harder and take longer to heal from. its taken me Years to remind myself of this but now i can come home from an 8 hour shift and still want to sit down and draw after i get home and take care of myself first.

if you feel like you're burning out or there's a creative wall preventing you from doing anything, ride it out. it sucks and it's upsetting, but the best thing to do when you want to make something but just Can't is to let it be, and gain some perspective doing something else for a while. play some games (especially new ones), watch new shows, new movies, try a new craft. Honestly, dabbling in anything new that shows other peoples' creative processes, and doing something new to create something, does wonders for art block. you get a new perspective on things and you'll come back to your creative process with a new lens on things and new solutions as well.

i think this one's most important but oh my god. please. please. love your art. love what you make. be proud of it. i save all my art to my phone and look at it all the time, even older pieces from years ago. find what you love about your art, yeah you'll find mistakes but that's not bad either. learn from them, grow, but oh my god please love the process as much as the outcome too. love the way you sketch things, the way your lineart changes details as you go along, how much the colors make it come to life, and be proud of the end result. loving your art and the time you spend to make it makes all the difference, it's not a chore, it's a form of self expression and that's what makes it all worth it. LOVE YOUR ART.

okay that was my sentence i hope you liked it. (:

[all-things-skylanders]

Custom Skylander: Pumpkin Spice

The first of the custom Skylanders in the Twin Skies project, this is Pumpkin Spice! (Art by @soda-tab-society)

Pumpkin Spice: Life and Fire Twin-Type skylander

Catchphrase: "Spice it up!"

Concept: A Twin-Type Skylander, the form's of Pumpkin spice are both a sentient pumpkin creature, and the living flames of a Jack-O-Lantern.

Origin: Pumpkin Spice was a recruit to fight against the forces of evil, but when caught by the forces of King Kaos, he was scattered across the multiverse, reforming as a two in one spirit, able to hide within his armored pumpkins or burst forth as a flaming nightmare. He has a fun loving personality, a prankster who loves to startle and mess with people. He takes great delight in battle, using his lack of self preservation in order to use his flower bazooka to its ultimate capabilities.

(As usual, if you would like to take part in the Twin Skies project, just DM me or join the discord through the link provided in my pinned post!)

Stats and Upgrades under the cut:

Stats:

In Life Form:

Health: 320 (Level 1) 960 (Level 20)

Power: 40

Speed: 50

Armor: 68

Critical Hit: 40

Elemental Power: 25

In Fire form:

Health: 320 (Level 1) 960 (Level 20)

Power: 70

Speed: 65

Armor: 35

Critical Hit: 50

Elemental Power: 25

Life Form Upgrades:

Core Abilities:

Primary - Pumpkin Bomb: Pumpkin Spice shoots a slow moving pumpkin from his Bazooka that will explode if it doesn't hit anything after a few seconds.

Secondary - Vine Snare: Pumpkin Spice summons a pumpkin patch on the ground in front of himself. Any enemy that steps on the patch will be stunned for a short amount of time, taking minor damage. If the enemy would be defeated by taking the damage, then they will not spring the trap. Only one trap can exist at a time.

Upgrades (ordered by cost to purchase, Twin-Types get less upgrades per path):

700 - Tertirary - Pumpkin Meteor: Pumpkin Spice causes a massive pumpkin to fall from the sky and land in front of him after a short delay.

1200 - Ripe Pumpkins: Pumpkins fired by the Pumpkin Bomb are larger and deal more damage.

Upgrade Paths:

Path 1 - Snare Master: A mastery of Snares and Patches allows this version of Pumpkin Spice to ensare many more foes!

2200 - Tri-Trap: Pumpkin Spice can have up to three Snare Traps on the ground at a time.

3000 - Infested Traps: The traps are infested with dangerous bugs! The traps deal twice as much damage and stun for longer.

Path 2 - Pump-Pain!: The Pumpkin Meteor isn't big enough for you? Then let's get crazy!

2200 - Watch Out, Dinosaurs!: The Pumpkin Meteor is larger, hitting a much wider area, and dealing slightly more damage.

3000 - Seed Poppers: When the Pumpkin Meteor hits the ground, it leaves behind three Pumpkin Seeds. When a Pumpkin Seed takes damage, it will explode, damaging all enemies around it.

Soul Gem:

4000 - Enhanced Orange Armor: Pumpkin Spice's Armor increases by twenty while in Life Form, and he heals a small bit of HP every few seconds while in Zones that boost the Life element.

Fire Form Upgrades:

Core Abilities:

Primary - Flamethrower: Pumpkin Spice fires a continuous stream of orange flames that deals rapid close range damage.

Secondary - Flame Jump: Pumpkin Spice leaps forward into the air and crashes down in an explosion of flames. This deals high damage, and Pumpkin Spice takes 10 damage doing this.

Upgrades (ordered by cost to purchase, Twin-Types get less upgrades per path):

700 - Tertiary: Blazing Ring - A circle of fire pops up around Pumpkin Spice. Enemies that touch it will take damage and be knocked back, and it will block projectiles. The ring shares one healthbar, and if any part of it breaks, the entire ring will be destroyed.

1200 - Spark Path - The Flame Jump leaves behind a trail of sparks and flames that deal lingering damage behind Pumpkin Spice.

Upgrade Paths:

Path 1 - Spicy Jumper: Pumpkin Spice never skipped leg day! Watch him bound to and fro, dealing massive damage in his wake.

2200 - Blue Jump: Hold the Secondary button to charge blue fire around Pumpkin Spice. Release the button to perform the Blue Jump. The Blue Jump deals massive damage and knockback, and Pumpkin Spice takes twenty damage.

3000 - Fireproofed Feet: Pumpkin Spice no longer takes damage when using the Flame Jump, and takes half damage from the Blue Jump. Bounce to your heart's content!

Path 2 - Gasoline Pumpkin: Boost the power of the Flamethrower and Blazing Ring even further, using powerful fire that can melt through anything!

2200 - Charged Flamethrower: As Pumpkin Spice uses the flamethrower, his bazooka will start to glow the longer its held. If the bazooka reaches maximum brightness, when you stop using the Flamethrower, the bazooa will fire a giant flaming Jack-O-Lantern that deals massive damage and explodes on contact with something.

3000 - Blazing Wave: After summoning a Blazing Wall, press the Tertiary button again to have the wall burst outwards, dealing medium damage and heavy knockback.

Soul Gem:

4000 - Halloween Flame: Pumpkin Spice's Power increases by twenty while in Fire Form, and he heals a small bit of HP every few seconds while in Zones that boost the Fire element.

[thyluvcupix]

Sakuatsu fic recs!

im very picky on what i label to be a 'good fic' most of the ones are amazing but only a few will get bookmarkerd by me and here they are! My ao3 acc that has many more book marks mostly nsfw i diddnt put here

1

A liar's truth 49k words

okay this one is just breathtaking? if you havent read this pls do i cried sm😭

summary:

In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

2

I'll see you in court, motherfucker 2k words

its short and funny def worth a read if you wanna giggle

Summary:

“You’re still a fraud. You’re—you’re a scammer, is what you are. I don’t know how you convinced the hospital administration that you’re my husband, or that we even have a relationship, but I have—” Fuck, what’s the word? “Lawyers,” Kiyoomi says triumphantly, “I have lawyers, and if you’re trying to con me for some ulterior motive, I’ll have you know—” “Oh my god, Omi,” Miya says, sounding equal parts exasperated and horribly fond. “How can you be so cute?”

A pleasant side effect of being down one vestigial organ is forgetting the existence of your hot Olympic athlete husband

3

The 28 post cards you left me 8k words

Honestly, if i ever break up with someone this is exactly what i want from them? Like omg?? pls send me post cards, Super cute

Summary:

Atsumu takes texting your ex to a new level by sending Sakusa postcards in Animal Crossing instead.

4

The art of the thrist trap 4k words

naughty naughty, but other than that this fic is so funny? like ask ur brother how to rizz someone up

Summary:

“Samu, I’ve got a big problem.”

“Here we fuckin’ go. What is it this time?”

Atsumu needs to think strategically about how he’s going to phrase this. One wrong word and Osamu will hang up on him and Atsumu will be forced to wade through the hell of his own mind by himself.

“I jerked off to one of my teammates.”

Osamu hangs up.

5

Problem 5k words

super cute sleepy omi is something else

Summary:

Atsumu has a problem— somehow, he finds every version of Sakusa Kiyoomi adorable.

In which Atsumu realizes that Sakusa Kiyoomi gets very quiet and very adorable when he's tired. Things simply go downhill from there.

6

Take me where the music aint to loud 2k words

Protetive sakusa>>

Summary:

Winning against the Adlers must have meant something of a great deal to Sakusa, as usually he wouldn’t even consider going out with the rest of his team after the game.

Yet, here he is, in a somewhat crowded club, wearing a black button up shirt rolled up around his wrists and sweating a little under the bright lights.

Atsumu thinks he looks beautiful.

He wanders over to where Sakusa is standing with Meian, hoping that tonight, with a little bit of influence from alcohol, he might be able to get more conversation out of him than he can usually get outside of practice.

But of course, Atsumu can’t have anything good, ever. Because, blocking the way is his ex-boyfriend.

--

or; atsumu runs into his ex in the club, and sakusa has to rescue him

7

ROAD RAGE 2k words

This is funny on so many levels poor atsumu he fears for his life

Summary:

For a man who preaches at any given opportunity about the importance of good self-care practices, Sakusa certainly displays an astounding lack of self-preservation when behind the wheel.

Sakusa Kiyoomi has a driver’s license. Sakusa Kiyoomi cannot drive.

The two are not mutually exclusive.

8

The ascent to love (or descent) 3k words

Im always a sucker for hurt/comfort and this fic gives me that, its also funny as well so its a win-win type thing

Summary:

Stuck in an elevator with his boyfriend after a fight, Sakusa Kiyoomi couldn't think of anything worse. Working through their issues?  Maybe he could think of one thing.

9

Take me home 10k words

i just cannont stress how good this is, like its soul healing on so may levels gosh

Summary:

Turns out, Miya Atsumu never did a good thing in his life – his love was one-sided. And so, he was running away, hoping to meet some friendly people, take a bunch of pretty pictures and get over Kita Shinsuke.

In which Miya Atsumu is an exchange student in Italy, and Sakusa Kiyoomi is the only one knowing Japanese, forced to take care of the new student.

10

Hope is the thing with feathers 10k words

Two dummies taking care of some birds is honestly to good

Summary:

Kiyoomi wakes to Miya banging on his door, yelling words that put the fear of god in him.

“Omi-kun, get out here, we’re gonna be fathers.”

11

In the stars 1k words

In all honesty it made me think of the other side of love i never thought about

Summary:

Miya Atsumu is a romantic. He always had been. He believes in soulmates and destiny and true love in the stars. Sakusa Kiyoomi believes none of that.

My ao3↵

[garvet]

According to the latest security system's evaluation, G53U was behaving strangely. But no more strangely than others after certain stages of augmentation. SecUnit had seen humans start talking to walls or attacking their colleagues. Others would curl up in corners, and only the activation of the controlling implant would force them back to work.

The human brain was fragile—you never knew what would happen when another piece of neural tissue was replaced with state of the art electronics. G53U didn’t attack people. If anything, he avoided them. Rehabilitation, judging by his vitals, was going well, and the security system didn’t care much about his mental state. If things got too bad, the controlling implant would handle it. Over time, cognitive functions would transition to the augments, and everything would stabilize. If not—well, those augments could always be implanted in someone else.

Filing a report to the correctional block was a way to draw attention to an employee’s condition. But G53U hadn’t violated any serious rules. Nothing about his behavior posed a financial threat to the company - yet.

He simply refused to follow the routine. During scheduled rest periods, he wandered the corridors of the residential block or lingered near the coffee machine drinking his usual syrup with a minimal amount of coffee. If forced into his loving pod, he would lie there, hugging himself and breathing like he’d just escaped a chase. It all pointed toward serious issues in future, but for now, SecUnit couldn’t do anything.

Three days later, G53U refused to leave his workstation. That wasn’t technically a violation, and the security system allowed him to stay under observation for an additional shift. Occasionally, humans stayed for overtime in a desperate attempt to chip away at their debts. It never ended well.

"Your behavior does not contribute to survival," SecUnit said, approaching him.

G53U didn’t respond, staring at the table with a gaze full of fear. Was G53U finally afraid of it?

For a while, SecUnit stood over the augmented human, waiting for fear to take over or for G53U to collapse. Eventually, the governor module sent it off on patrol. An hour later, the security system reported that G53U had given up and left his workstation. Appropriate fine was issued.

When SecUnit returned to the ready room after its patrol, it found its cubicle hacked and occupied.

Inside, G53U was asleep.

This was a blatant violation, but SecUnit checked the air circulation and composition inside, then closed the cubicle again.

In the morning, G53U logged his overnight stay as urgent cubicle maintenance and highlighted software and hardware bugs he had corrected. He didn’t seem frightened. SecUnit confirmed all of G53U’s reports. The cubicle now reeked of human and dirty socks.

The next night, G53U came to the ready room with a blanket. SecUnit watched as the fear and despair that had filled him all day evaporated while he spread the blanket out on the floor next to the cubicle. SecUnit concluded that G53U might not be afraid of it after all.

"I can’t sleep there. Alone," G53U snapped in response to another warning from the buffer. "I’m scared, okay? I’m losing it. And you’re the safest thing here. You can throw me out, but if you do, I’ll definitely do something that’ll make you file reports, chase me down, break my arms or legs, or shoot me. You want that?"

All SecUnit could do is to search for another urgent repairs necessity

[grandiosetirade]

I have turn off my anonymous ask for now since i was being harassed today .

(I have been receiving some hate messages this years for a fandom that i’m not even participating anymore and honestly i am sick of it . I just want to live my life . )

So now if you want to say something to me , lets talk like adults, face to face . I have nothing to blame myself for personally and i am not even in this fandom anymore so if you find it funny to harass someone that literally doesn’t care about you or a fandom go bother someone else .

I don’t want to ever interact with anyone (from either side ) of this fandom anymore. You ruined everything for me , i’m done .

If i’ll post something kaeloo related ever again it will be for myself only . If you don’t like my fanarts then don’t interact thank you .

I’m really sorry if this comes out as harsh…. And i’m sorry for people who didn’t ask anything but i’m so done . I have a job , i will be soon a art ateacher. I have a lot of things to do and litteraly no time to think about kaeloo and the fandom rn .

Its so sad honestly because , we used to be such a cool fandom back on deviantart. When the show went more popular it literally broke the fandom in half .

And let me say it again for those who has been accusing me of stupid stuff :

Pedophilia is gross

Manipulating minors is gross

Forcing your ideas to minors is horrible

Harassing and lying to everyone is horrible

Saying that some kid character should just die is just … awful , regardless on your opinion on a character.

And finally, some you need to touch some grass , it’s a funny cartoon show ! (And i’m not saying you should not taking seriously or that you should stop watching it because it’s consuming your life , do what you want / trust me when i say that i’ve been taking seriously this cartoon for years now ) but please , take a break , breath and chill a little please .

Now that this is said and done , leave me alone please .

If you want to ask me questions in private or talk about my side of this drama its ok , but i will not respond to hate and it will be block immediately.

Ill delete this maybe one day

Good day

[blobbei-art]

"I should get into blender"

Many artists often joke about this.

But honestly, please don't force yourself to do it or think that this is the best way to getting better at 2D art. 3D is its own, very huge, complex and confusing medium of art with a high learning curve. You can easily get frustrated at the start. There's plenty of other ways to use 3D tools to help you.

But if you're scared and still looking to break into it here's some ideas you can do to start small and/or use it to help with your 2D art:

If you just want to model objects for you to trace/use as references: -> Basic lowpoly modelling is enough, especially if you just wanna get a background perspective right. Get some cubes, extrude faces and move around their faces/edges/verts. -> Alternatively, go to sketchfab and look for models, get it into position, screenshot and trace it. No modelling needed. -> Learn how to block out scenes or characters!

If you want to make characters: -> Learn 3D Sculpting! It's a lot more intuitive for a 2D artist. Blender has a sculpting feature. There's also NomadSculpt on iPad but it costs a little money. -> Also helps immensely with anatomy practise! Look up some anatomy references and really work out the details by blocking out the shapes of muscles. -> You can also do other props with sculpting, it's called Hard Surface but it's more difficult to do than organic shapes.

The infamous Blender Donut tutorial: -> This may be subjective but I've seen many 3D artists actually recommend against doing the Blender Donut. It doesn't cover all of the basics. -> Look for tutorials that aren't Blender Guru. You could also just look up individual steps such as "blender lowpoly modelling" or whatever. -> There are multiple ways to start out with a model. I personally like to do lowpoly (also known as low-to-high workflow) without using the subdivision modifier. Find something that's right for you!

3D taught me a ton about art and did make my 2D art improve. But I also do it because it's fun on its own. Don't think you have to do it. You're doing fine.

Also these are just ideas, i am not a professional. I'm simply going off from my own and other art students' experiences.

If you do try it, i wish you good luck and have fun!

[opossumonashelf]

getting this off my chest now... Tw: thoughts of suicide, thoughts of self harm, politics

I tend to think about just disappearing, i know i have things to live for and look forward to but... do they really matter. I mean if i was to just delete my existence from the internet im sure the people who blocked me over dumb ass fandom drama would be sooooo happy. I try to express how i feel to people but its like no one listens. no one listens to what i have to say because im just "worrying over nothing" I knew this shit would happen. First the deaths in my family and pets, then the whole drama crap over fiction, now we have a fucking criminal as a president who will endanger the lives of so many LGBTQ+ people in the us. I keep wondering is this what life is now for the next 4 years and knowing its gonna get worse if i loose the spaces that bring me comfort on the internet. Multiple times last year i wanted to just hide in my room or even hurt myself, because i hated everything that was happening. I felt angry, scared, depressed, frustrated, and even scared for my life and my family as well. you will see more politics and less of the stuff i like because i want people to be informed about all the shit happening. Sometimes i wish people could just be nice... or put differences aside and help eachother through this but that wont happen... i think i actually might take a break from the internet but if some things was to happen i still need to archive the art from years past so it wont be lost. People see me as the kindest and sweetest person you can meet but im broken, im depressed and can lash out when stressed, i overthink and my brain tends to think of the worst expections and even forcing me to remeber things i dont... I'm not okay but then again no one is during this time right now... all i ask is that people maybe put things aside and actually be nice and help, fuck maybe even apologize... I try what i can even without a job, i do some small jobs for people my folks know to get cash while i try to do art stuff but its never enough... All I ask is for everyone to stay safe...

[macawritesupdates]

Writing Update 8/29/2024

Back to work full-time and off my break so writing updates have become slower! Still going to push onward with big fic updates u_u

Requests are on hold a bit, working at them, but at a rather slow pace as I want to finish up some longer fics and one-shots first <3

STORY UPDATES!

Seven Days to Fall in Love ends tonight! I have it done and working on edits to post it and bring that quick fic to an end. I feel the ending is a touch rushed, but I'm also running out of steam on it, so giving it an ending I feel wraps everything up nicely c: Malevolence of love is 50% done for next chapter. Going to be working on this one to finish it out before the end of September! I have it planned out, just need to get it written. I want to give it some love and bring it to its angsty conclusion 83

Can't Help a Cuddle/Jealous is a Bad Friend BOTH are nearly done and I'm very happy with how they both are coming out! There is some big emotional feels in both that I'm happy with how they played out and just the scenes in general <3 I hope they meet the expectations of all the suggestions given!

Cuddle is a bit harder as I got over twenty suggestions to weave into a coherent narrative, but think I did it justice!

Lessons in Accidental Seduction is nearly done! Finishing up the last scene <3

Spouse Wanted has me possessed and I just write out chapters and edit them in a sitting because I'm giggly over it

Who's a Good Boy is making good progress, as well as Broken in the Ways No One Can See. So should see those maybe next weekish? Depends on how well I write the rest of the week. I've just been on a ROLL for want to write and inspiration! The Yuuji Files has slowed down after writing the silly Toji being forced to look for a job scene....but I think once I get some other long fics cleared, will make it easier to focus on this one <3

Careful What you Joke About is being completely redone for this next arc. I have taken it apart and been redoing the outline for the final two arcs for better flow and to hit the points better. I think it will be a much more solid end when done <3

Mirrored Lives....going to sit down and rehash the ending and figure it out as I think my mental block on it is just dissatisfaction with a few things. MHA ACADAMIA FICS

Jealousy is Not a Good Friend Updates soon and I'm starting to poke at Unsung Heroes again! I SO WANT TO WRITE IT but it is on a backburner for when other things clear up! ONE-SHOTS Pull Me Along if I Can’t Move Forward (MHA: Bakugo/Deku): On a slow boat to getting done haha! But it is still being written! Heatwaves and Curses Don't Mix: A one-shot PWP of Nobara, Yuuji, and Sukuna :b That's it. When You Suddenly Get Another Grandson: The poll idea winner after doing the math.... told from Wasuke's POV of Yuuji suddenly showing up with a moody second twin after eating some mummified finger at school. Desperate Prom Date: Giftfic for an awesome person on twitter who has wanted this story so much.... writing it as thank you for comments and nice art c:

FUTURE FICS TO COME Culturally Insensitive: The sequel to Historically Inaccurate with Yuuji and Sukuna trying to figure things out while meeting with others who have their own possessions going on. Follows along the Culling Game Arc.

Blossoms Born on the Dragon Mountain: The Dragon AU c: Law Meets Disorder: STILL working on it 8I it is a very complicated work to get through. Going to def let some of the big fics finish before it goes out

A Sukuna/Nobara Fic...just feeling the mood to write some more about em :b

[feyspeaker]

Picked up two prints! (And a sticker!)

Just so you know, I would legit pay for, like, a collection of your prints in a size somewhere between the mini and 11x14.

Like, I just want to put a *bunch* of them in a binder and just look at it sometimes lol

thank you so so much!!!! ;A; I have considered other sizes, but I live in a tiny place and my printing room is already full of too many sizes of paper/mailers/tubes/etc for what I do offer. I will keep it in mind but the sizes I have now are probably going to be pretty set for now.

About to go off on a tangent, so apologies for hijacking your sweet ask.

honestly this is still so crazy to me, thank you. I have been illustrating for years and years now, but really only found proper footing this year after taking a huge break from commissions and just hammering in what I really want to do with my life.

I've always preferred rendered painting but I felt like the market was so saturated and that I'd never be able to make a living doing it. Many of my older followers will know that for a couple of years I was really on this digital watercolor kick, doing more stylized work. It was extremely grueling despite being faster, bc I forced myself to work entirely on 1 layer with no eraser. It was faster for me to do and felt more "lucrative" as far as timeliness, but I was not very happy doing it, and did a lot of rendered painting studies in my free time, it was basically my "fun time" where I was doing one style for work and a totally different one for private pieces. Literally, I would be painting realistic block of cheese as my downtime.

I was so convinced that stylized stuff was what people wanted, and I have had boxes and boxes of prints I've bought and thrown away because they didn't sell.

Now that I am doing the kind of art my heart wants to do, I am so much happier and completely overwhelmed by how there are actually people who want to art I make for myself on their walls.

This is probably coming off so random but I've been thinking about it a lot, it really is true that you HAVE to paint what makes you happy. If you try to box yourself in to what seems the more "marketable" I promise you are going to be miserable. (Never stop challenging yourself, though. seriously.)

I have never been happier about the art I have created in the last 6 or so years of doing this professionally than I am now that I just said "fuck it, I am tired of painting anime-ish stylized stuff because that's what's in." It's like I've been forcing myself to jam a square block into a circle shaped hole for years. Not to mention that doing line art on literally over a thousand pieces (yes, I've counted, absolutely insane; comic artists please take care of yourselves) for years has well and truly fucked my hand up permanently, I fear.

Other artists, please listen to that little creature in your brain that's telling you it doesn't like painting anime girls or cats or thick chunky line art because that's what you think is popular. If painting nothing but hyperrealistic swords is where you heart is happiest, just do it and stop forcing yourself because I promise there are thousands of people out there who want to see your swords. Just make sure to throw in some jewels or filigree or whatever every once in a while to keep yourself challenged.

Sorry again for hijacking your message, I just am regularly blown away that somehow people actually like my art now that I like it. (Not that my older pieces are regrets btw, I think every single thing you paint no matter the style is worth its figurative weight in gold)

[hxhhasmysoul]

I want to get into dandandan but the fandom… i don’t think i would join in since i’m also a fairly young poc and with the recent “drama” in the fandom…

it’s sadly making me have second thoughts

I don't know anything about dandandan or its fandom specifically.

But my experience with fandom is very mixed. There are amazing people out there but the loud voices in all fandoms are those people who want to stir shit up or want to chase clout in whatever way possible.

Also western fandom is a microcosm of the western society and with how americanised the internet is, it's very skewed towards the American society and culture. So all the flaws of the western world are reflected in western fandom.

So yes, you will see racism from overt to more understated and some people will do/say racist stuff and act like they're not racist.. like in every day life. It will be the same with every marginalisation - gender, sexuality, ability, ethnicity, class neurodiversity, misogyny and whatever I forgot about.

I'm not saying it's okay, but not everyone has the energy to be bombarded with that when they just want to talk about their favourite thing, let alone to challenge that and try to argue with bigots.

And not everyone wants interact with drama, witness harassment and see annoying or stupid opinions.

So I understand your second thoughts. I personally can be confrontational when I'm not feeling burnt out but I also take breaks from fandom when needed.

My advice is that you can regulate to a pretty high extent your interaction level with the fandom.

It's perfectly fine to lurk. You don't have to interact with anyone or anything unless you want to. You can just enjoy stuff.

The block button is very important. Block people the moment you feel they will annoy you. You don't have to reply to anyone who tries to start shit with you, you can block them.

You should judge anyone who's bored enough to start drama over fandom stuff. I'm not saying that it's because the art is "not that deep, man". You can get into pretty deep discussions over every piece of art, even if the creator clearly didn't intend it. But it's not important enough to get fucking vile about it. So like I recommend blocking people and judging them for being fucking bored, you can also envy them how much free time they have. And honestly if you scratch the surface of most fandom drama, there's a ship war underneath.

You don't have to know the details of the fandom drama. You don't have to be involved with it, you don't have to take sides. Participating in fandom drama is optional unless someone is trying to bully you or your fandom friends, then block their ass. Treat any posts that target you like block lists, block each and every person who interacts with it.

You don't have to have an opinion on everything that's going on in your fandom. You don't have to have an opinion on everything that happens in the media the fandom is about. And especially you don't have to have it quickly. You can wait and give yourself time to think. And if someone would try to force you to give your opinion, try to pressure you into having one, you can block them.

If following the above advice feels like too much work then probably fandom is not the right hobby for you at this point in life. It's okay. It's supposed to be fun, an escape and not a job. You don't owe anyone in it anything. You don't owe them attention and you don't owe them your creations if you engage with media through art.

[throwingmuses]

slightly long-ish post below the read more asking for help with longstanding creative blocks that i cant figure out how to navigate by myself + could use some advice from people on here who have most likely experienced the same or at least similar issue and what helped them break the pattern

its actually very very depressing that ive been struggling so deeply with artists/writers/musicians block for over 2 consecutive years now because those are the only things that really fulfill me and give my life meaning ever since i first started engaging in creative stuff as a little kid. like i truly feel like those are the only actual skills i possess and even sometimes excel at but now it just feels like its just... gone forever. i try to sit down with a pen and paper with the intention to write or draw, or force myself to bring my guitar out to pluck a few strings just to say i did something at the very least, but nothing ever really comes of it. ive got so much shit bottled up in me that i desperately need to express but i just... cant bring myself to do literally anything some reason. the constant anhedonia i feel is honestly ruining my life and worsening my substance abuse. i can remember how relieved and proud i felt whenever i could even just finish a collage, make a painting, write a poem, or even just make up a little riff on guitar. i miss that feeling so so so much and my biggest fear is that my creativity (which has been the most important aspect in my life ever since i was old enough to sing and draw) is just... completely gone. im not really a spiritual person but i do feel strongly that my sense of creativity has a deep connection to my soul (whatever that means). and i often berate myself for just like, not doing it, despite the fact that i have the space and all the tools at my disposal that i can use to create a variety of things. i hate when i find myself seething about other peoples success in making art, and then i hate myself even more over the fact that im too occupied with my personal failures as a creative person to truly enjoy and be happy for the people that can and do create. sorry if this sounds whiny or trivial but its been weighing really heavily on my conscious lately. i know i desperately need to express the intense emotions ive been bottling up, but because i feel practically incapable of creating really anything, i just stifle my intense emotions via the aforementioned substance abuse. i feel like ive reached a dead end at this point, so i thought itd be worth going out on a limb by asking if anybody else on here has ever found themselves in a similar sitiation and were able to overcome those barriers and reconnect with their artistic selves? i just dont know what to do anymore and its driving me crazy, and ive never had a therapist that has offered any helpful advice on this issue

[arkofangels]

A Return to the Sanctum II ch.5

Summary: Wong returns to the Sanctum after investigating a mysterious rift in Hong Kong. His findings reveal critical information about the masked figure,  whose actions are destabilizing the multiverse. Wong’s presence brings a stabilizing force to the chaotic dynamic between the reader and Doctor Strange, but tensions simmer as Strange’s controlling tendencies clash with the reader’s growing frustration over being treated as a liability. 

a/n: (t:w) male manipulation, side note~ I had to beg my dog to let me write this by telling that if he doesn't move people are going to show up to our house and burn us at the stake....he moved thou!

The Sanctum Sanctorum buzzed with quiet energy as you wandered its halls, still adjusting to the strange blend of ancient mysticism and modern technology. The events of the past days still weighed on you—visions of other versions of yourself, Strange’s high-handed approach to “teaching,” and the disorienting experience of being yanked into the astral plane.

As you stood by the staircase, contemplating whether to risk touching the glowing orb hovering in the corner, a portal crackled to life behind you. The sudden noise made you whirl around, instinctively raising your hands, magic flickering at your fingertips.

Through the swirling light stepped a man you hadn’t met before. He was tall, dressed in a simple yet elegant robe, his expression calm but authoritative. He glanced at you briefly before turning to Strange, who appeared from one of the adjacent chambers.

“Wong,” Strange said, his tone neutral but carrying a note of relief. “You’re back.”

“Obviously,” Wong replied dryly, brushing the remnants of portal energy from his sleeve. “I’d have been back sooner, but I was busy dealing with *your* mess.”

You smirked slightly at his tone. Finally, someone who didn’t treat Strange like he was infallible.

“What did you find?” Strange asked, ignoring the jab.

Wong sighed, stepping fully into the Sanctum and letting the portal close behind him. “The rifts are spreading faster than we thought. The one in Hong Kong nearly collapsed half a city block. It’s not random, Stephen—someone’s targeting weak points in the dimensional fabric.”

At that, Strange’s expression grew darker. “A rogue sorcerer?”

“More than that.” Wong’s gaze shifted to you, his tone growing cautious. “I’m guessing this is the anomaly you mentioned.”

You bristled slightly at being referred to as an “anomaly,” but before you could snap back, Strange spoke.

“Yes. She—” he hesitated, glancing at you briefly, “—was displaced from her own dimension. We’re still figuring out the connection.”

“I’m standing right here, you know,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

Wong’s lips twitched, as if suppressing a smile, before his expression turned serious again. “I think I have an answer to your connection problem. The rifts, the anomalies, the destabilization—it all ties back to one figure. A name we haven’t heard in years.”

Strange’s brow furrowed. “Who?”

Wong glanced between you and Strange, his tone heavy with meaning. “Malakar.”

The room fell silent, the name lingering in the air like a storm cloud. You tilted your head, looking between the two sorcerers.  

“Who’s Malakar?” you asked, breaking the tension.  

Strange’s jaw tightened, but it was Wong who answered. “A rogue sorcerer. Once one of the most promising minds in the mystical arts—until he went too far. He believed the multiverse was broken, fractured beyond repair, and sought to remake it in his own image.”  

“Let me guess,” you said, crossing your arms. “That didn’t go over well with the magical council or whatever.”  

“Not exactly,” Wong replied, his expression grim. “Malakar’s methods were... extreme. He tore through dimensions, destabilizing weaker universes to strengthen his own. When we tried to stop him, he destroyed his own reality rather than let us interfere.”  

You blinked, your stomach sinking. “He destroyed an entire reality? How is he still alive?”  

“Because the void didn’t kill him,” Strange said, his tone clipped. “It transformed him. He’s not bound by the rules of reality anymore. That’s how he’s been able to manipulate the Core Thread without unraveling himself.”  

You froze at the mention of the Core Thread. “Wait—what does he want with the thread? And what does that have to do with me?”  

Wong’s gaze softened, but his words carried weight. “Because you are the thread. Or at least, part of it. Your existence is tied to its balance. If Malakar can manipulate you, he can control the thread itself—and by extension, the entire multiverse.”  

You stared at him, the enormity of the revelation crashing over you. “So... I’m not just an anomaly. I’m some kind of key?”  

“Unfortunately, yes,” Strange said, his tone as blunt as ever. “And if Malakar gets to you first, we’re all in danger.”  

You let out a short, humorless laugh, running a hand through your hair. “Okay, so why am I not being protected by some kind of magical council or something? Shouldn’t there be a team of sorcerers guarding me or, I don’t know, warding me against rogue maniacs like Malakar?”  

Wong hesitated, glancing at Strange, who sighed heavily.  

“They probably didn’t even know your existence was possible,” Wong admitted.  

“We didn’t even know your existence was possible until you showed up here,” Strange added bluntly. “You’re not just an anomaly—you’re unprecedented. A living piece of the Core Thread? That’s not something anyone could have prepared for.”  

You stared at them, caught between disbelief and frustration. “So, let me get this straight. I’m tied to the balance of the multiverse, a rogue sorcerer wants to use me to take over everything, and no one—*no one*—saw this coming?”  

“Pretty much,” Strange said, his tone almost casual. “But hey, we’re here now. That’s something, right?”  

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, comforting. Thanks.”  

Wong gave you a sympathetic look. “We’ll figure this out. You’re not alone in this.”  

Strange crossed his arms. “And we don’t plan on letting Malakar get anywhere near you. So maybe cut the sarcasm and let us do our job.”  

You sighed, the weight of their words settling in your chest. “Fine. But if this magical council of yours suddenly shows up, I’m giving them a piece of my mind.”  

Strange smirked faintly. “Fair enough.”

But the weight of their words pressed down on you, and frustration  soon replaced fear. “So what’s the plan, then? Lock me up in the Sanctum and hope Malakar doesn’t come knocking?”

Strange raised an eyebrow. “If that’s what it takes to keep the multiverse intact, yes.”

You threw your hands in the air.

“Unbelievable. You keep talking about me like I’m some kind of ticking time bomb, but I didn’t ask for any of this! Maybe if you trusted me enough to actually explain what’s going on instead of pulling this cryptic sorcerer nonsense, we’d get somewhere.”

“Trust is earned,” Strange said sharply, his tone cold. “And so far, you’ve done nothing but prove how volatile you are.”

Your frustration boiled over. 

“Volatile? Are you kidding me? I’m standing here trying to figure out how not to get weaponized by some dimension-wrecking lunatic while you give me the emotional equivalent of a shrug!”

“Stephen,” Wong interrupted, his voice calm but edged with authority. “That’s enough.”

Strange fell silent, his jaw tightening, but he stepped back, clearly begrudging Wong’s intervention. Wong turned to you, his tone softer, though no less serious.

“You’re right to feel overwhelmed,” Wong said. “This isn’t fair, and none of us are handling it perfectly. But if we’re going to stop Malakar, we need to work together. That means trusting each other—on both sides.”

You hesitated, glancing at Strange. His expression was still stony, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—doubt, maybe. Wong’s words settled something in you, though it didn’t erase the anger bubbling beneath the surface.

“Fine,” you said finally. “But if Malakar shows up, I’m not sitting on the sidelines.”

Wong gave a small, approving nod. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Strange, however, gave you a pointed look. “You’d better hope you’re ready when that time comes. Because Malakar won’t give you second chances.”

Strange turned on his heel, his cloak billowing behind him as he strode toward the Sanctum's library. “Come on,” he called over his shoulder. “If you’re going to survive this, you’ll need more than resolve—you’ll need knowledge.”

Reluctantly, you followed, Wong walking silently at your side. The heavy doors creaked open, revealing rows of ancient tomes and glowing artifacts, their power humming faintly in the still air. Strange gestured toward a table piled high with books and scrolls.

“Start reading,” he said bluntly. “The more you understand about the Core Thread and Malakar, the better chance we have.”

You exchanged a look with Wong, who gave you an encouraging nod, before sitting down and cracking open the first book. Hours passed as you combed through texts, each passage only raising more questions.

When the words began to blur and exhaustion tugged at you, Strange finally dismissed you, saying, “Get some rest. This is just the beginning.”

Later, as you wandered the Sanctum, Wong’s words echoed in your mind. Trusting each other. It sounded so simple, yet the weight of the multiverse made it feel impossible. Despite his reassurance, doubt still gnawed at you. What did it mean to be tied to the Core Thread? And what would happen if Malakar got what he wanted?

The Sanctum was eerily quiet, its vast halls casting long shadows under the dim glow of ancient lamps. As you turned a corner, a familiar shiver ran down your spine—the unmistakable feeling of being watched.

You stopped abruptly, heart pounding, and glanced over your shoulder. The hallway stretched empty behind you, but the air felt heavy, charged with an invisible presence.

“Hello?” you called out, your voice echoing faintly in the silence.

No response. But then, just as you turned to continue walking, the shadows shifted unnaturally, pooling in a corner where there was no light to cast them. You froze, watching as the darkness rippled like water.

And then you heard it—a voice, faint but unmistakable, slithering through your mind like smoke:

“We’re not so different, you and I...”

The shadows stilled, leaving no trace of movement, but the words lingered in your mind.

Your heart raced as you took a cautious step back, your eyes fixed on the now-empty corner. The voice—it wasn’t just in your head. It was something tangible, pressing against your thoughts, leaving behind an unsettling residue.  

“Who’s there?” you demanded, trying to keep your voice steady.  

Silence. The only sound was your own shallow breathing and the distant hum of the Sanctum’s wards.  

You turned slowly, scanning every corner, every flicker of shadow. The corridors felt alive, the walls watching you as you moved. The feeling of being hunted refused to fade, and though the voice was gone, its cryptic words echoed over and over in your mind: *We’re not so different...*  

As you rounded another corner, you nearly collided with Wong, who was carrying a stack of ancient tomes. He caught your startled expression immediately.  

“Are you all right?” he asked, his tone calm but edged with concern.  

“I—” You hesitated, glancing back over your shoulder. “I don’t know. I think... I think someone was here. Watching me.”  

Wong’s brow furrowed, and he set the books down on a nearby table. “What do you mean? Did you see anyone?”  

“No, but...” You rubbed the back of your neck, the unease creeping back in. “The shadows—they moved. And then I heard a voice. It said, ‘We’re not so different, you and I.’”  

Wong’s expression darkened, his usually steady demeanor shifting into something more guarded. “The Sanctum’s wards would have alerted us if someone—or something—had breached its defenses.”  

“Well, something was here,” you insisted. “I *felt* it.”  

Wong nodded slowly, his gaze drifting toward the hallway you had come from. “The Sanctum responds to its inhabitants. It’s possible that whatever you felt wasn’t a breach, but something tied to you.”  

“Tied to me?” you repeated, your stomach sinking. “Like Malakar?”  

“Perhaps,” Wong admitted. “Or it could be the Core Thread itself reaching out. You are connected to forces far beyond our understanding. Manifestations like this might be a side effect of that bond.”  

You stared at him, trying to process his words. “So, what? I’m just supposed to get used to hearing voices and seeing things?”  

“Not without guidance,” Wong said firmly. “I’ll consult the archives for anything that might explain this. In the meantime, stay alert. If it happens again, let me or Strange know immediately.”  

You nodded, though the tension in your chest remained. Wong gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before turning back toward the library, leaving you alone once more.  

As you continued wandering, the corridors seemed even darker than before, their shadows deeper, more ominous. The words echoed again in your mind, unshakable: *We’re not so different, you and I.*

You shook your head, trying to dismiss the eerie feeling clawing at the edges of your thoughts. “Not so different?” you muttered to yourself. “I don’t go creeping through people’s halls whispering cryptic nonsense.”  

The sound of your voice barely reassured you, and the oppressive silence of the Sanctum quickly swallowed it. You turned another corner, hoping the familiar sight of the arched windows overlooking the city would ground you. The moment you stepped into the hall, the skyline came into view—New York’s restless chaos laid out before you, starkly contrasting with the stillness around you.  

You approached the window and leaned against the sill, staring out at the twinkling lights and bustling streets below. It was almost comforting, that constant hum of life. Almost.  

“This isn’t even my world,” you muttered under your breath, the weight of displacement settling heavily on your shoulders. “Not my world, not my fight, and yet here I am. Lucky me.”  

A shiver ran down your spine again, colder this time. You stiffened, instinctively glancing behind you. At first, there was nothing—just the flickering, familiar shadows cast by the Sanctum’s enchanted lights. But then, just as you exhaled in relief, the darkness at the far corner of the hall rippled, as if alive.  

Your heart sank. “Oh, come on,” you muttered, taking a step back from the window.  

The ripple of darkness twisted, spreading unnaturally until it formed the silhouette of a figure. And then, like some malevolent specter, Malakar stepped forward, his dark cloak flowing like liquid shadows. The featureless mask he wore caught the faint glow of the Sanctum’s wards, but instead of reassuring you, it made your pulse race faster.  

“You again,” you said sharply, crossing your arms in a weak attempt to mask your unease. “Do you ever take a day off from lurking?”  

Malakar tilted his head, his body language calm, almost mocking. “Why rest when the multiverse is in such chaos? Besides,” he added, his voice smooth and quiet, “I had a feeling you’d need a reminder of who you are.”  

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t quite suppress the tension crawling up your spine. “Oh, good. Another unsolicited lecture. What is it this time? My *destiny*? My *purpose*? You love throwing those words around.”  

He chuckled, a low, humorless sound that made your skin crawl. “You mock what you don’t yet understand. But soon, you will.”  

“Right. Because cryptic riddles are so helpful,” you shot back, unable to stop the bite in your tone. “Here’s a thought—why don’t you just come out and say what you actually want instead of hiding behind all this ominous shadow stuff?”  

Malakar took a step closer, and you instinctively stepped back, though you tried to keep your expression defiant. The shadows around his feet twisted and writhed like they were alive, pooling outward in slow, deliberate movements.  

“You’ve felt it, haven’t you?” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper that somehow filled the entire hall. “The pull of the Core Thread. The way it calls to you. The way it *belongs* to you.”  

You clenched your fists, ignoring the way his words seemed to worm their way into your mind. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

“Lying doesn’t suit you,” Malakar said, almost amused. “You’ve already touched it, haven’t you? Felt its power. Its pain. It’s not a gift—it’s a prison. And you... you’re its warden.”  

“That’s not true,” you said, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to sound strong. “I’m not like you.”  

“Aren’t you?” Malakar tilted his head, his tone softening, almost pitying. “You feel it, every time you reach out to the threads. The weight of it. 

The control it demands. Strange calls you an anomaly, but you’re more than that. You’re a tool. A tool to keep the multiverse in its endless cycle of suffering. Just like I was.”  

His words hit harder than you expected, slipping through the cracks left by your own doubts. “If you think I’m just going to help you destroy everything, you’re out of your mind,” you said, your voice sharper now, trying to cut through your unease.  

Malakar chuckled again, though this time, there was no humor in it. “I don’t need your help. Not yet. But you’ll see. When the threads fray again, when the Core begins to unravel, you’ll understand. And by then, it might already be too late.”  

“Get out,” you snapped, taking another step back. “I don’t care what you think you know about me, but I’m not buying whatever you’re selling.”  

Malakar didn’t move for a moment, the oppressive weight of his presence making it hard to breathe. Then, with a slow, deliberate gesture, he raised a hand—and the shadows began to consume him once more.  

“You can deny it all you want,” he said as he faded into the darkness, his voice a low murmur. “But the truth is already inside you. You’ll see it soon enough.”  

And then he was gone, leaving the hallway eerily still once again. You exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to your chest as if that could calm the frantic pounding of your heart.  

You didn’t know how long you stood there, staring at the spot where Malakar had been, before you finally forced yourself to move. The faint ripple of energy he’d left behind still clung to the air, but you tried to push it out of your mind.  

When Strange returned to find you later, you didn’t tell him about Malakar’s visit. Not yet. The sorcerer had enough on his plate without worrying about another one of Malakar’s mind games. At least, that’s what you told yourself.  

But as you stood at the window again, staring at the city below, his words lingered, refusing to let go: *The Core Thread isn’t your destiny. It’s your cage.*  

You wanted to believe Malakar was wrong. You *needed* to. But the doubt he’d planted had already started to grow.