#blacklight live writing

[hotslimybitch]

its fucking hysterical that so far the only explicit ao3 work in the darius deamonne/previous golden guard| darius' Mentor isn't even about them, its' a alador/darius smut

[thecapricunt1616]

Pink Pony Club (Richie Jerimovich one-shot)

♡ One-Shot Inspo: Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan "I'm up, and jaws are on the floor. Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door. Blacklights, and a mirrored disco ball Every night's another reason why I left it all" ♡ Summary: You're an Exotic Dancer / part time house mom at The Pink Pony, and end up falling for a man that is probably old enough to be your father. ♡ W/C: 2.9k ♡ Poste Date: 06/10/2024 ♡ A/N: Hello all! again, for the asks that are atp starting to mold in my inbox - imma get to you. This specific dirty old man in a suit has been making me feel things lately, so naturally I had to write some porn about it. Asks are still open even though I cant promise it'll be done snappy. Hope everyones week is off to a great start so far!! Tagged those who commented on the post saying this would be a good idea just so you could see how it came out, hope you like :) ♡ Warnings for BTC: Age gap relationships (R is in her mid-to-late 20's, mentions of sex work, Club environments, swearing, smut, rough sex (Richie likes to be slapped around sometimes, kay?) lowkey simp!Richie, no use of Y/N - pet names only, readers stage name is Pixie Polestar , unprotected sex, not edited, we die like men!

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You had met Richie just about 2 months ago. It was safe to say, life had chewed him up and spit him out lately. 

If he was being honest with himself, the dating pool wasn’t exactly rich at 46 years old. He could count on almost two hands how long it had been since he got his dick up for more than just the binightly pornhub browser. 

That led him into the Pink Pony Club one fateful August night. You were working your usual shift, Pixie Polestar. You - unlike some of the other girls - really enjoyed your job. At least, the aspect of having fun on stage, doing cute, sexy little acrobat-like tricks on the pole while horny men paid you to take more of your clothes off?

Yes please. 

You weren’t a back room kind of girl, usually. That was because the amount of money you made from tricks on the pole was more than a lot of the girls you worked with made in a whole shift while you just worked the 45 minute trick-filled stage set then would give a few $400 lap dances depending on your mood, before skipping on home, taking a hot shower, and slipping in your silk sheets with your air conditioner turning your bedroom something akin to an ice box. 

That was how that night was supposed to go. 

How the night really went, was some loud borderline obnoxious man at least 15 years your senior, had found his way into the Pink Pony. He was wearing a pressed navy blue suit, that complimented his pretty blue eyes. That was the second thing you noticed about him while he loudly whistled for Krystal who was currently doing her set. 

You weren’t really supposed to be here anymore - well- you didn’t have to be here. You had found yourself a solution, a real career path if you will. But you enjoyed your time on the pole because it was art, and dancing was a confidence booster for you. In any regard, you were going to get older, you were going to pass your prime as the house mom was always telling you girls, so you needed another stream of income. 

Of course, being a … *eh-hem* - exotic dancer was the word you preferred, stripper just sounded trashy to you, did come with its negative stereotypes, one of which being no where will rent to you - because you had terrible credit. So, naturally, being the resourceful woman you are - you walked your happy ass to the open house of a for sale by owner showing, and told the nice realtor you’d take it. 

Boom. Done, you had a place to live in 3 weeks, when you closed on it. Then, it dawned on you. The other girls you worked with had the same issue you did. So, you found another house, saved another 25k for the amount to put down, and rented it to your coworkers. 

It was the perfect system, because you knew you’d get your rent. You knew exactly how much money each girl made because you watched them make it, you knew where they lived, and they had to look you in the eye every night. So it’s easy to say no one ever tried you. The only real reason you hung around The Pink Pony anymore was because you wanted to keep an eye on your girls and dancing was fun too. 

When he first laid eyes on you, it was something akin to a cartoon character when their pupils turn into hearts. It wasn’t too abnormal, you were one of the more bombshell-esc dancers at the club, and that isn’t to say that you outdid anyone it was all based on preference. Some men loved plain Jane’s, and the plain Jane’s were just as beautiful as any of the other girls, but the reaction of men basically tripping over their feet to try and come talk to you was more likely going to happen to you then anyone else.  

But he…didn’t come over, that was interesting to you. So, you being the master of customer service you were, took your drink and kept your eyes locked on his as you made your way across the room, and plopped right in his lap. “Never seen you here before sweetheart” your manicured hand found the back of his neck, gently caressing over his skin. 

He tried to play it cool, but your tits we’re basically in his face, he could smell your perfume perfectly, fuck he genuinely can’t believe that a girl so beautiful just sauntered over and sat in his fucking lap. Was he dreaming? He found his mind racing, and for once in his 46 years he was dumbfounded and couldn’t find anything to say. 

“Cat got your tongue honey?” You smirked a bit, gently cupping his stubbly cheek and rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip, pulling it gently before letting it snap back into place. He swallowed thickly, his hand resting on your bare thigh, just below the white glittery mesh coverup you were wearing. 

“I’m Richie.” He blurted out, his cheeks felt like they were on fucking fire, any blood that wasn’t rushing there was rushing to his cock and he found himself wondering when the last time he’d gotten hard so easy was. 

“Well hello Richie. I’m Pixie, what brings a handsome man like you in on a Friday night mm, no big plans?” You absentmindedly played with his chain, pretending to pay no mind to the long length that was hardening in the curve of your ass. All you would have to do is shuffle just a tiny bit and his cock would be nestled between your cheeks and the itty bitty powder pink g string that you wore beneath the tiny mesh piece of fabric that was basically for show and no use to cover anything. 

“I guess I was lookin’ f’some entertainment. Think I found it” he spread his legs more, causing you to sink further into his lap and his hand found the curve of your waist, his thumb rubbing little up and down strokes over the smooth skin. He never believed that the sheer triple x rated porn movie he was creating in his mind would become a reality that night but man did it. 

It was also his first night taking the dreaded viagra prescription his doctor had given him when he got real about his … shortcomings as of late. The man isn’t what he used to be stamina wise, okay? Nonetheless - he still rocked your shit - well, more like you rocked his. 

Who knew this foul mouthed, old school, borderline toxic masculinity-entrenched motherfucker would get so much pleasure from your palm coming across his cheek just hard enough it left a yummy sting and telling him “My eyes are up here you old pervert” as you bounced on his cock with a rhythm he couldn’t bring to the table himself anymore, and that in turn causing your tits to bounce like a fucking hentai film less then a foot from his face. 

Something about a younger girl calling him old and smacking him around all while using his cock to get herself off, babbling about how good he makes her feel made him more confident then he had been in years.

He often would find himself feeling a little pang of sadness after you started seeing eachother, in moments where you two were laughing a way he only ever did with Mikey before you came around, and making him feel like he was in fuckin’ High school again with how giddy he was to see you after every shift. All of it would just remind him how bad he wishes you could have met Mikey, and how bad he wishes he could tell Mikey. 

Richie knows, he would be so jealous, but in a brotherly way - that such a young hot piece of ass, a young smart, hot, funny, piece of ass was calling him daddy, told him he was ‘her mans’ whatever the fuck that meant. He assumed girls today call their boyfriends that, there were a lot of little phrases and lingo you had to explain to him and would always make fun of him for being old after doing so. 

He would tease you too, having some late 80s early 90’s radio station on (because the old head didn’t understand what streaming was) while he drove you around of course since he had learned from you that you were his ‘passenger princess’ and saying something like ‘oh babygirl this is before your time, this is from my day” before cranking up the radio and serenading you with Bad Girl by Madonna, belting it in such a silly, dramatic way between drags of his cigarette you couldn’t help but burst into giggles and kiss him at the next red. 

You had told him that when you used to do private dances that Like a Virgin was one of your favorite to dance to for the ‘older’ gentleman, he spanked you playfully when you said his crowd was older as he usually did, and of course later that night he had you perform for him and you ended up getting your back blown out to material girl since you had been streaming the song from your phone and didn’t care to find it and turn it off. 

When Tina had played it jokingly at family dinner one night, he couldn’t help the smirk that came to his lips at the memory. Funnily enough, she was the first person to find out about you. Of course, he didn’t divulge anything other than he was finally seeing someone consistently, nothing about your age or profession. Based on the way Tina had reacted with clapping and kissing his cheeks, gushing “I’m so proud of you papa! That’s so good, this is so good for you! You need to get out there more” he was reevaluating his social life or lack there of and telling himself he needed to get out more, which lucky for him you were young and bubbly so you could get him out of the house. 

The next person he told, he really told, was Carmy. Well- technically Syd too, but she just happened to overhear. 

“W-wait wait” Carmy pinched the bridge of his nose how he did when he was baffled and confused, brows knitting together as he shook his head. “Lemme- lemme just get this straight - y’datin a…..” 

“Ex-o-tic dancer, cousin. It’s 2024, fuckin hell. Women dance and get paid for it - no big deal.” He repeated, emphasizing each sound as if what he was explaining was the most casual thing in the world, which - you had explained to him it should be so he took that and ran with it. 

“You’re fucking…a stripper- a stripper that’s what they’re called when they dance naked -  and how old did you say she was?” Syd questions. 

“Hey- she leaves her panties on she’s only naked top up, and plus she doesn’t even have to anymore she does it for the art.” He points the spoon he was wiping down at Carmy “this new NOMA bullshit we’re doin’ here isn’t the only art, Cousin. Shes an artist” he dropped the spoon in the bucket with the rest of the pristine ones he’d worked on. 

“Sure- and she’s fuckin younger then me” Carmy replied. “She could be y’fuckin-“

“Yeah, yeah - whatever she could be my fuckin daughter where’s your girlfriend huh? I don’t see anyone linin’ up to fuck you. She’s nice, and into me - and - and she’s funny and smart. So see already 2 qualities named that I don’t see much of around here so excuse fuckin me f’wantin to be happy when I’m not in this shithole” he teased 

“So- this not even 30 year old, she is gonna be y’date to the thanksgiving friends and family night - the one your daughter and ex wife are attending - and you think that will be a good idea considering tiff’s track record with girls you bring around” Syd questioned. 

“Yup” was all he said before taking the now finished bin of spoons to be put away, glad for the conversation to have finally been over. 

He rehashed the whole conversation with you later that night as you slowly rolled your hips into his, your skin sticking to his, both of you covered with a thin layer of sweat. You had his hands pinned next to his head, fingers interlaced with yours, practically speaking into your mouth as you kissed him sloppy and open mouthed, obsessed with eachothers taste. You always tasted of bubblegum, a habit you’d carried with you since childhood, he always tasted of cigarettes, a habit he had carried since high school. 

“Baby with my job I’m used to people not understanding me - I didn’t expect your friends to like me. My job - it can make people uncomfortable. But fuck them. You know how we feel huh?” You picked up the speed of your hips, using the curly deep brown patch of hair at the base of his cock to cause the most delicious friction with each thrust on his cock as you chased your orgasm. 

“Ye’ fuck em baby- shit- so fuckin tight- all mine right?” He breathed, mouthing over the bruises he’d left on your breasts a few nights ago. That was one thing about your job he had a bit of difficulty getting past, but you assured him you had no feelings for any clients and that you weren’t doing lap dances anymore only your stage set and otherwise you were just there to be more of a second house mom. But still, he was a man after all. He was possessive, a little jealous sometimes. So he loved to hear that you were only his during moments like this. 

“Yes daddy- all yours. You own this- you own me” you kissed his hand before bringing it to your breast and then using his shoulders as leverage to bounce further up and down, the action causing his head to fall back and jaw to fall slack. 

“Just like that - god- fuck - holy shit baby- shit-shit- y’fuckin close? How fuckin long has it been?” He pinched your nipple lightly, causing your pussy to clench around him and a pornstar like whine to leave your lips 

“It’s been 15 minutes- Christ you’re like a teenager. Can’t even last 30 minutes?” You teased, leaning in and kissing his neck, biting and nibbling the skin as you circle your hips, essentially jutting the tip of his cock into your g spot and that floaty feeling sneaking up on you as you feel him shoot rope after rope of arousal, painting your pretty, gummy walls a milky white and his stomach muscles clenching at the overstimulation. 

The grunts and moans that left his lips when you got him here were some of the hottest noises you’d ever heard a man make before, you were always sure to file them away in a special little folder in your brain for a rainy day he wasn’t able to get you off himself. “Feel good daddy?” You asked sweetly, sitting up and resting your hands on his hips so you could look down and watch as your mixed arousals gush out of you and around him, thick strings breaking with each slow, purposeful roll of your hips 

“So fuckin good baby- Jesus gonna finish soon? Dunno how much more I can do” he said, voice breathy, blissed out, nearly whiny. 

“Mmhmm few more minutes daddy- god we’re so pretty, I bet we taste so good mm?” You swipe the pad your forefinger over your clit, gathering the sweet and bitter white, making a show of rubbing it over the hardened bud of your nipple “feels good, too, wanna tell me how it tastes?” You leaned in and he nearly groaned as he took your breast in his mouth, crystal like eyes seeding into your own gaze as he flicked his tongue gratefully around the sensitive nub. 

You whined hotly, the sight of your tit in his mouth mixed with the feeling of his pants huffing through his nose and fanning over the swollen flesh as his tongue swirled and licked and flicked and drove you over the edge. You cried out, hips stuttering as you rode out your orgasm. His hand found your heat, rubbing with scissored fingers over your clit and meeting around his cock before dragging his fingers back up to repeat the assault. 

The action had you gushing around him, the contractions of your heat getting stronger causing him to groan into your skin and that vibration just added more stimulation. “Fuck yes- god daddy- always make me feel so good, no one understands how good we make eachother feel hm? Nothing else matters, baby, as long as you feel good, right?” 

You pulled him in for a sloppy, hot, passionate kiss. A kiss that made his heart do flips, and his stomach flutter, and made him feel way lighter.

Richie thought to himself in that moment he may be falling in love again, and he was equal parts fucking terrified, and excited to see where things with you went. 

He just had to get over ripping off the very last bandaid, and then you could really be together -

And that bandaid was Tiff.

@aestheticaltcow - @myszie - @wtfsteveharrington

[kitchenisking]

Day 5

Coffee Storm by splendid_splendont  - (Rating: G, Words: 1,744, sterek)

‘we got caught by this awful storm and now we’re waiting for it to calm under the roof of a café, want to go inside and have a coffee in the meantime?’

so he's got a few flaws by Phnx - (Rating: T, Words: 1,695, sterek)

In short, everything was terrible.

Just Stopped Working For Me by dedougal - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 11,447, sterek)

Stiles never expected to meet Derek Hale. He definitely never expected the movie star to slide into his cab and ask for his help.

For better, for worse by Vendelin - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 13,336, sterek)

Derek and Stiles have been married for six years. Derek loves his job as a successful lawyer, loves his financial security and his large house. It isn’t until Stiles gets shot while working that he starts to understand that maybe Stiles isn’t loving their life as much as Derek is.

Gracious In Defeat by yodasyoyo - (Rating: Mature, Words: 18,136, sterek)

Stiles needs to get away from Beacon Hills after the end of his senior year. Derek offers to let him stay with him in São Paulo, and they finally act on the tension that has always simmered between them. 

The thing is, when it's time to go home- Stiles doesn't want to leave.

Aconitum Bulbus by hazelNuts - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,499, sterek)

xxxAthaelaxxx asked for: "Stiles is underage like 17 and Derek's 23. Stiles got hit by some sex pollen and needs to fuck. Derek's the only single wolf who can do it and refuses to help Stiles since he's underage but if Stiles isn't cured he could die. Virgin!Stiles and Martyr!Derek. Please write in great detail the deflowering."

They'd been having a simple pack picnic, because they did those things now. They’d just finished lunch and had decided on a game of tag. It had all been great until Stiles had tripped and fallen face first into some flowers.

Way Down We Go by Wolfspurr - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 50,131, sterek)

Set during 3B and its aftermath.

The blacklight party at the loft leaves Stiles with more than one revelation playing on his mind. He's losing time, and apparently he might be more than just a little bit interested in Derek Hale.

By the time he's fought off the Nogitsune and somehow lived to tell the tale, the rest of Stiles' sanity might just rest on Derek, the Camaro, and a few hundred miles of Pacific Coast Highway. It's going to be one hell of a road trip.

Savage Beast(s) by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 9,390, sterek)

In which Stiles gets a werewolf roommate and it only gets better from there

He Gets Me High by talktowater - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 11,562, sterek)

Stiles and Derek act like a couple. But they're not. Seriously! Derek has a boyfriend and Stiles has a girlfriend. They're just friends, overly-attached and possessive friends, but that's it. Right?

You First by alikatastic - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 802, sterek)

Stiles got a text from Chris Argent telling him what was going on, and Stiles dropped everything at work and rushed to Beacon Hills. He needed to find his son, Eli, and his husband, Derek. When he got there, the worst had happened, it was his worst nightmare come true. His magic built and built until he got the chance to save them all.

[death-limes]

Say, which characters in HB and HH do you hate the most character wise and then design wise

OHHH MAN i could write an entire video essay about this topic lmao, let me try to be as brief as possible

~~~

Hazbin - Worst Character: This one's hard, there are a few characters who probably suck but I just don't know that much about them. But based on what I know now, honestly…? Charlie. Coinsidering that… I think Faustisse?… confirmed that she's over 200 years old, the sheer level of naivete on her part is just annoying and unbelievable. She's over twice as old as Alastor, she should not be swayed so easily by him. As far as I'm aware she's not in a Disney Princess situation where she was shut inside the castle walls her entire life (PLEASE correct me if I'm wrong on that though) so there's no reason why she shouldn't be at least a little savvy to the ways of sinner demons. She should also have been able to see the VERY OBVIOUS SIGNS that Vaggie used to be an exorcist. Even Carmilla comments that it's super fuckin obvious; the Princess of Hell herself should be knowledgeable enough to pick up on hints that even the fandom picked up on when it was just the pilot. Overall, Charlie just comes across as kinda stupid imo. I don't find myself rooting for her at all.

Hazbin - Worst Design: Alastor. I know he may not necessarily look the worst, and I do in fact simp for him, but his design does absolutely NOTHING that a character design is supposed to do. Namely, it doesn't tell us anything about him & it doesn't help him stand out from the cast. Nothing about his design is uniquely 1930s (nobody wore their hair like that, pinstripe suits started in the 1800s and continue to be popular today, monocles were more of an 1800s thing and were considered old-fashioned by the 30s) or deer-esque (his ears really do not look like dear ears at all, and his "antlers" are just microscopic salad forks that don't even show up on his silhouette). The whole Voodoo thing, aside from being super disrespectful to a literal religion that is still actively practiced, is also so inconsequential to his character that it can be removed entirely and change NOTHING about him. Any of his traits that are in line with the Voodoo thing can still exist without it -- him being a trickster and a dealmaker, mostly. All the blacklight stuff doesn't match his aesthetic at all: in Princess and the Frog where everything was 1920s it gave a magic effect, but in Hazbin where all different time periods comingle it just gives a raver effect, which doesn't fit his anti-modern preferences at all. Also the living-shadow thing is yet another direct ripoff from Dr. Facilier (that might just be in the pilot though I'm not sure), I think the living microphone is a better route to take if you want him to have a spiritual companion type of thing; it's more relevant to his theming and more original. And of course none of this even touches on the "he's half-black" bullshit excuse that only came after V*v received backlash about the Voodoo thing. And it doesn't even solve the issue anyway. A mixed-race man from the 1930s would make for a very interesting character IF that unique experience/identity was actually integrated into his character in any noticeable way, but it's not. It was just slapped on at the last minute. Ugh. I could write an entire essay about Alastor alone tbh.

Helluva - Worst Character: Fizzarolli, but mostly when he was first introduced. Aesthetically he's the closest thing that I have to a "blorbo" in this show, but in the Ozzie's episode he just gave me the most rancid vibes ever. Definitely a "asexuality doesn't exist, you just haven't been with ME yet~" type of person. Admittedly that's more of a personal preference thing and less of a poor characterization; they're in the Lust ring, that type of attitude is kind of expected. What IS poor characterization, however, is his "development" later on when he and Ozzie basically get their own arc. His entire personality changes to be much softer and like…. idk, very obviously a trauma VICTIM and not so much of a potential trauma CAUSER? His character is not nearly as abrasive, but there's no corresponding event that would cause such a change. It just seems like now that he's supposed to be a sympathetic character, they changed his personality to be more appealing. He's not nearly as mean and rude as he used to be. Ozzie has a similar thing going on but it's not quiiiiite as severe, and he's saved from being the Worst by having a far more interesting and unique design. (If you had asked who I think has the BEST design in Helluva, I'd probably say Ozzie.)

Helluva - Worst Design: Beelzebub, no contest. A lot of people seemed to have a problem with her being bee-themed instead of fly-themed like the real Beelzebub in demonology, but that honestly doesn't bother me; I'm not expecting any Hellaverse stuff to be super accurate to The Real Lore so any tiny reference they can slip in (like with Ozzie's design) is just gravy. To me, bee and fly are close enough, I think it counts as a reference. Plus, the bee theme goes well with Gluttony ("nectar" is a common synonym for delicious food) and calling her Queen Bee is an easy way to make her name more appealing/sexy than, yknow. "Beelzebub." What DOES bother me is her canine aspect. Why is she a sparkledog? What is the logic behind that? Why isn't she huge-by-default like Ozzie and Mammon? (You'd think GLUTTONY of all sins would be a big character!) It really just feels like V*v wanted Ke$ha to have a cameo role as a major character and just arbitrarily picked one of the sins for her to be. So the character design has Ke$ha in mind faaaaar more than it has Beelzebub in mind. ***(Funny thing about Queen Bee: for a solid week after her episode came out, I was actually fooled by this page from an RP wiki: [https://hazbin-hotel-and-helluva-boss-rp.fandom.com/wiki/Beelzebub] The explanation that I'd gleaned for this version of her is that the picture shown is the REAL Beelzebub, and the one we see in the show is her daughter by the lord of Hellhounds, Cerberus, which explains her canine features. Queen Bee Jr. is the heiress to her mom's title in the same way Charlie is the heiress to Lucifer's title. The picture shown on that page is just SUCH a better design, and it looks like the show's style, and she seems to be a giant like Ozzie and Mammon…. can you blame me for being like "OH that makes sense!!" Cut to me a week later finding out this is just a fan RP wiki. Siiiigh.)

[konjkitkatty]

Ok so I’ve reread Boros’ information you posted and I have an idea for the minibosses of his realm

For the first miniboss it could be inspired by a Saharan Silver ant

These are fast ants that like the name suggests live in the Saharan desert, they have a shiny carapace that reflects the sun’s rays and prevents them from overheating. This boss would have similar attack patterns/abilities to Eligos, but instead of summoning red flies in that one attack they’d summon silver ants

The second mini boss could be inspired off of a Deathstalker Scorpion, which is considered the deadliest scorpion species whose venom is used to treat brain cancer!

They glow under a blacklight so at night in their follower form I’d imagine they’d glow a vibrant cyan. Their attack patterns/abilities would be similar to Hauras considering they’re both scorpions

The last of the minibosses could be inspired by a Sidewinder snake

They’re a desert dwelling snake species named due to their odd movement pattern, the reason for this odd movement pattern is to limit exposure to the hot desert surface. Their attack patterns could be similar to Valefar.

For Boros’ witness I don’t have much of an idea for, but it could be of a turkey vulture

Due to vultures being creatures of decay and leftovers.

Anyways why did you make me fixate on this time snake creature

Tumblr user rateater2000, literally where have you been all my life. Be my co writer. Help me write all my stories now. Your brain is too massive for me to not ask for help.

[sithgoddess19]

My beloved OC/wife 🤧💍

So, my first ever transformers OC, I have

Meet blacklight :) honestly blacklight had always been my comfort OC. Literally after rewatching the first and fourth transformers movie back in early 2022, I just straight up make her without a thought and even if my OC, she’s my wife. Now don’t ask about the hair I have two reasons, 1: I was in the early stage of drawing transformers 2: I got inspired by elita one in transformers animated. Okay enough about this, here are some basic info

Name: Blacklight

Fractions: autobot

alt mode: SSC Ultimate aero

Personlity: she may be cold and deadly meaning some may mistake her as decepticon, but she really nice and caring sometimes like a mother

Backstory: Blacklight was only a sparkling when her parent were killed by the decepticon, ratchet found her in the alleyway and took her in, during her years of training. blacklight was just a normal cybertonian kid, when in the mid age, she was very close even best family friends to megatron and sential prime, but when starting the fall of cyberton, she was sad and shock to see megatron as the new leader of decepticon when she was fighting, she got caught in one with tempest, tempest rips blacklight left eye out ((then blacklight rips her head off during the chicago battle >:3)), blacklight was close to dead but once again optimus and ratchet save her, replace her eye with a eyepatch. When the autobot were tolded to head to earth, blacklight landed on earth in the mid 1980s, during her time, she watch human as they normally live but during that time, blacklight was developing some anger and rage feeling that she should revenge them which wasn't the autobot way but she felt them. In late 1990s, she was bought by a human named dave and they become close….too close. (i'll so write her life in the battles or the future)

relationship status: she is poly, she was in love with dave but she found she poly so she fell for wheelie (he act differently in my au btw), then crosshairs and fangsnap

(damn that alot and if say smash, I will find you/j)

[trickybonmot]

oooh pls tell me about being trapped in a cave

This one is quite silly. It's a modern high school AU. It was inspired by a story I heard of a friend of a friend who had a tooth knocked out and the replacement tooth glowed in the dark. I think WWX is just the kind of guy that this would happen to, so to make it Wangxian I imagined that they would somehow get stuck in a cave with no light and LWJ would see his tooth glowing and be unable to keep from kissing him. I got weirdly stalled on it when I got the clarification that the real life incident was not actually a glow in the dark tooth, but a tooth that glowed in blacklight. For some reason this stopped me in my tracks. Recently I figured out how to go on anyway, but I ALSO figured out that it needs more buildup than what I had written, so it's still destined to languish for a while.

It was actually one of the first fics I started, and looking at it now I can tell I've gotten better at writing! Funny how that keeps happening.

Here's a snippet under the cut.

I need your help with something

Frowning, Lan Zhan replies. With what?

I can’t tell you It’s nothing bad. It’s important to me.

Lan Zhan will wish, later, that he had asked for more details. He’ll ask himself why this was enough.

But it’s enough.

OK

Great!!! I’ll pick you up at 6:30 Where do you live? You might get dirty so wear old clothes Bring a flashlight.

It’s four o’clock now. He looks over to where his uncle is meditating — or possibly just sleeping sitting up — on a floor cushion near the sunny window. The whole house is dead silent. Since Huan-ge went away to college, evenings at home are always quiet. Featureless. This is the first time anyone has disturbed the stillness.

[theconfusedartist]

hhmmmmmph

Prototype and Resident Evil I feel like...the original devs for prototype were inspired by some of the designs and elements that were in RE:Zero and RE5, specifically.

The Ouroboros inspired Blacklight and Redlight (the chords and tendrils, how they move, how they interact with flesh) and RE:Zero specifically was used for design choices with the supreme hunter

Like, I just got some of the concept art (since I'm getting as much stuff as possible from the wikia before I just make my own in writing app pages bc fuck the fandom wiki) and....there was also art that compared the Supreme Hunter to the T-Virus Tyrant

Original Design:

In game model:

Using tendrils:

Comparison to Tyrant:

Ngl the original design fucks but I feel like it would look even cooler combined with the final result.

Also, as for Alex I mentioned this in another post but the tendrils

Alex's tendrils:

Ouroboros trying to integrate with a still living host:

Idk I feel like there's similarities, especially since I booted up the game a few days ago and did the first mission then just walked around Penn Station. None of the npcs were infected it seemed like and I didn't see any of them holding their stomachs or walking slowly like you do later on in the game. Ofc that was a new game, so I'll check out new game+ with infected vision and see if that's any different than what I found

[miraakulous-cloud-district]

*Gigi falls from the chimney like Santa Claus, but instead of presents, she carries ✨questions✨*

🍋: What is your OC's most painful memory?

🍍: Where does your OC feel most comfortable?

🍆: Does your OC have any favourite form of affection, physical or otherwise?

🍇: What sort of friend are they? Where are they in the group dynamic?

🍪: What is something that's sentimental to you OC?

🍹: Does your OC have any funny anecdotes told about them?

All for Hjaldir and Signe! 🥰

Christmas came early for me because WHOA! THAT'S A LOT OF PRESENTS! What did I do to deserve this? Thank you, so, so much, my dear!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

🍋: What is your OC's most painful memory?

Ooof, this hit me in the feels, but there are two for Hjaldir, I’m not sure which is more painful, but I’ll answer chronologically. Also, his story may change as I keep writing, but essentially, this is the backbone of it.

His mother’s death. Hjaldir and his mom were bards for a very wealthy family, but they were treated very badly, almost like slaves. They lived in the barn, while the wealthy family was sleeping delightfully in their manor. His mother was a single mom and she taught him everything about music, but she fell ill, and died shortly after. It really hit him hard, and the fact that he felt so incapable to do anything to help her was awful, because he did not have lots of money. He tried working overtime, and in her final days, he really thought about becoming a pirate and bring her all the wealths that he gained, but that never happened. But her death was what broke the chains for him and his old lifestyle, because she kept telling him that he should go and build a life for himself, but he stayed for her. Now, he was free to do whatever he wanted, and so he felt the sea calling for him. 

The second one is Endryn’s death, of course. He loved his life at the Emerald Bar, and Endryn was his best friend. His life was a perfect balance of peaceful and adventurous. He was never away from the sea for too long, first of all, because Blacklight is a city with a big port, and secondly because he kept going on trips to different parts of Tamriel (Mostly High Rock) to resupply the Tavern. Ravonna very often accompanied him, and they were always up to shenanigans. Teldryn was a good friend and an even better drinking opponent, and his bond with Ravonna was the strongest one he felt in his life. And all of that died with Endryn. He knew nothing would be the same. Both Ravonna and Teldryn left, and he was left alone with his thoughts and grief. And unlike Ravonna and Teldryn, he is a very social person, being alone is not good for him.

For Signe, she doesn’t really have anything specific, her life is very dangerous with people constantly dying, and they’re all very sad. However, she doesn’t want to linger in grief and quickly shoves it away, even if she doesn’t fully process it. The sad part that left a constant sadness in her soul was leaving her dad behind in order to write her own story and pursue the life that she wanted for herself.

🍍: Where does your OC feel most comfortable?

Both of them feel comfortable at sea, or close to it, I suppose. Nothing beats the sounds of waves. Very cliché, I know, but they’re pirates :))))

🍆: Does your OC have any favourite form of affection, physical or otherwise?

I answered this for Hjaldir here!

As for Signe, her form of affection is not so physical. Gift giving is her jam. She grew up wealthy and doesn’t really care much for riches or treasures. The smiles on her loved one’s faces when she shows them with gifts is her favoured treasure!

🍇: What sort of friend are they? Where are they in the group dynamic?

Hjaldir is a teamplayer, he works best when he is part of a group, and he is very much a wildcard, too. You can never know exactly what he’ll do next. Not blindly loyal, either. He also brings humor and light-heartedness in the group, but I think that at this point, this is the default trait I give to my ocs :)))

And Signe is the leader of the group 100%! The legendary Deathbrand, most feared pirate, but also secretly a team player, because there is no captain without a crew. Still, she always had this leader aura about her.

🍪: What is something that's sentimental to you OC?

GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE AND FOAMING AT THE MOUTH WHILE TRYING NOT TO MAKE HJALDIR HAVE A “PIECE OF FABRIC” THAT ONCE BELONGED TO HIS MOTHER BECAUSE THAT IS TOOO OFMD BLACKBEARD AND I’VE ALREADY MADE HIS STORY KIND OF INSPIRED BY IT, but maybe that. WHy is everyone in this family at least slightly inspired by Blackbeard 😭Definitely something to remind him of his mother. And also maybe something cute from Ravonna. A ring that she bought for him (with his own money lmao) when she was a kid because it was a ring with a skull on it and skulls are very pirate-y, at least in kid Ravonna’s eyes.

Signe’s not the type of person to get attached to material things, but when she received a letter from her father, informing her that he is finally [REDACTED, FOR SPOILER REASONS] she kept it in her inner pocket for the rest of her life.

🍹: Does your OC have any funny anecdotes told about them?

OOF WHERE DO I EVEN START WITH THIS ONE!!? Pirates who’ve known adventure and shenanigans all their lives have too many funny anecdotes, but I’ll go with the ones that first come to mind!

I’m not sure if this is canon yet, but I came up with it because I want Hjaldir to have more time and to be able to do a lot of badass stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I love it when I see elderly characters as well, and he will still have his badass old man moments and his very sexy gray hairs among his raven black hair, but I also want him to join the fellowship in their adventures, so I came up with this: on one of his adventures, he found a crypt with his crew and they robbed it. Turns out it was a mad alchemist who resided there, and he left a very strange potion on his desk. Everyone was wondering what it was, and Hjaldir, being the chaotic disaster that he is, just straight up chugged it. Turns out it was an elixir of elongating one’s life and a potion that the mad alchemist worked really hard on, which he failed to make again. 

And another one for Hjaldir, because I find this very endearing and perhaps a bit of evidence that both him and Ravonna are a bit gray. On one trip to High Rock, they pretended to be fancy psychics that could foresee the future, they had a fancy bowl that Ravonna looked into and pretended to read and everything! They set up a tent and charged people and said *the* most generic bullshit ever. And people were eating. It. up.

Signe also has her fair share of funny anecdotes, some which we will see in HOTHS. For now, the one that I’m most excited about is the crew being abducted by a wild tribe in Valenwood, and them making her some sort of high queen and prophet because of a necklace that she looted. Turns out it was an important artefact for that culture, but they thought they were going to be a big soup because Wood elves and cannibalism. The tribe didn’t speak any language that the crew did, but they managed to find a translator. In the end, Signe was missing a necklace, but gaining a new crew member. It’s a bit vague, but I will develop this more as I write, I think it will be an entire chapter of HOTHS.

Well, well, well, this got extremely long, but a mere thank you is not enough! This has helped me immensely in bot Hjaldir and Signe’s characterization! And I had so, so much fun doing this. Gigi, thank you so much, my dearest <3 <3 <3 

[hotslimybitch]

*grinding my teeth*

embracecringe embracecringe embracecringe

(rereading my hundreds of drafts to make one coherent story)

[kikibridges13]

Dancing With Your Ghost | Chapter 9's Medical Breakdown

Chapter 9 here.

Full story here.

Hoo boy this was an easy one to write out, but rough on me emotionally. What you see in this chapter is almost a step-by-step of what I got to witness each day for 6 weeks.

Actually, for me, it was about 8.5 weeks, due to the weather, holidays, and being so damn sick, I was admitted to the hospital about a week before Thanksgiving because my gallbladder decided around that it was going to show it's ass in the middle of all that.

This is an excerpt from the blog that I had kept during that time.

Today's office visit was almost painless. It first started with a 12 minute video on what to expect for Radiation Therapy – which all I could think about during the entire thing was how they could have done certain scenes and transitions differently (my degree has officially ruined me. I'm critiquing medical videos now). However, I did pay attention enough to take in what all would be done, which according to their five steps (consultation, set up, simulation, therapy, and post check-up), I'm onto step three.   Today was set-up. First starting with making a mold of my teeth, which will help the doctors make sure that they are treating the same spot each time. While I was biting down on that disgusting putty for five minutes (which almost six hours I can still taste. Blegh.), a nurse was marking three places on my face that would also help make sure everything was aligned each time during radiation. Okay, I guess I could handle having three tiny blue spots on my face for six weeks. And then she pulled out a needle.   Suddenly I'm not liking this idea anymore. Apparently, these marks only show up under a some sort of blacklight or laser beam because I haven't noticed anything largely noticeable. But the nurse dabbed some kind of ink onto the spots she had made with a sharpie, then used the need to push the ink into my skin.   How do people in prison set there and have tattoos done slowly that way? Because those three needle pokes were enough to make me want to run. Or just wince in pain since that wasn't an option. Good thing I was biting down on something during that.   After those were done, I had to have a mask made that would make sure that I wasn't going to move duri\ng the treatment. It looks like a fencing mask that comes down on the bridge of your nose and has to be stretched to go over your head. So once they had it warm enough to stretch, it was placed on my head and stretched, then locked into CT machine. This is where I felt like the Man in the Iron Mask. I definitely had no room to move, so the thing had done its job. Then they did their CT test, and I was finally free.  

My next blog post would be a month later, because what happens to Buck at the end of the chapter somewhere happened to me. As soon as my first treatment ended, not only did I have that constant nauseous feeling all the way home (and I lived an hour and a half away from the hospital I had to go to for treatments, so I was having to make a 3 hour round trip every day for a whole 10 minute treatment), but I had a constant dull headache the entire time. My parents ended up going to work - they had a second shift job at the time - and about 8 hours after that first treatment, I had a headache as tense we see Buck have. I didn't lose consciousness, but honestly that would have been better than 4 hours of intense pain. My parents came home, took me to the ER, and they gave me a shot of painkillers and sent me on my way.

And then I experienced the same thing the next, including actually sickness and extreme hydration.

But we'll see more of that in the next few chapters.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Number two from the OC worldbuilding ask game for Sydari! Tell me all about them languages >:)

2. How does your OC communicate? Are they monolingual or multilingual? What is the linguistic environment they’re in? If they’re monolingual, is there a social penalty for only speaking one language, or is it the norm? If they’re multilingual, which of their languages or sociolects has the most/least prestige? Is there a separation between written and oral forms of the language? Can your OC blend in or does their language mark them in some way? What are their levels of fluency, and how do they feel about them?

Sydari primarily speaks Cyrodilic, she grew up in Windhelm, and her native tongue was heavily repressed, particularly after the Great War. Ulfric's ascension saw a city-wide crackdown on all cultural practices that deviate from Nordic tradition. You'd think that would mean she picked up Nordic? No, her people were mostly confined to the Gray Quater with a few exceptions, Dunmer were not permitted to speak Nordic. They are not permitted to engage in their festivals or freely hold their own. So Cyrodillic, as the lingua franca of Tamriel became Sydari's first language. It's the only language that she can read and write in. And even then, her literacy leaves a lot to be desired. She coasted by with semi-literacy until she couldn't hide it any more. Dunmeris, though heavily repressed as of 4th Era 199 was freely spoken in the Grey Quarter just long enough for Sydari to pick it up. These restrictions came in slowly throughout her childhood, ramping up with the outbreak of the Great War, around the same time she fled the city. She's semi-fluent in the Windhelm dialect, though she never learnt how to read, let alone write using the daedric alphabet. Her father was no help, though he did speak exclusively in the Vvadenfell dialect of Dunmeris, it was often slurred, mumbled monologues that she only half remembers. She never really thought much about it. It's not a language commonly used in Skyrim, and though some of the Dunmer in Riften spoke a similar dialect, it was never the language anyone used to address her. Her husband knew even less, so she had to teach Brand-Shei a few key phrases. (The journal Sydari finds in the Pride of Tel Vos was translated for her by Enthir for a few favours). She was always mildly bothered by the fact she couldn't read or write in Dunmeris, mostly due to an old note she was given as a child, something secret she kept as good luck. She's had multiple opportunities to have it translated, it's just something she's built up in her mind over the last half a century. It's almost better to not know what it says. There's a scribble of an eight-legged creature she later discovered was either a netch or silt hopper, the drawing was kinda crude. Sydari hadn't really planned on visiting Morrowind, her life was in Riften, she had a home, and was attempting to build a family. But things go wrong as they always do and she found herself alone pursuing a job on Solstheim. She found that she couldn't really understand the version of Dunmeris that was spoken in Raven Rock, she had the basics but there were intricacies, phrases, implied context that she just did not have the background to understand. What makes it worse was that her knowledge was just assumed, most Dunmer that live there come from Blacklight. Sure a handful lived in Windhelm but that was before the more obvious restrictions. When she first arrived, it was hard to get anyone to speak to her unless she switched to really basic Dunmeris, Skyrim-born Dunmer are somewhat pitied but not coddled. If she wanted to speak to them, she had to use her mother tongue. Sydari is pretty good at bullshitting, so she's been able to bluff her way into acceptance. Geldis was willing to speak to her in Cyrodillic right off the bat. The guy is usually pretty open and wouldn't disparage her for not understanding half of what was being said to her. Being a tavern owner gives him more experience in dealing with outlanders. Teldryn spoke to her using Cyrodillic pretty early on, though he still assumed she was more fluent than she let on. He writes to her exclusively in Dunmeris and it's begun to cause issues. She's asked Geldis for translations on several occasions but she's embarrassed by her lack of knowledge. She mostly just switches to smiling and nodding. Only getting the letters translated if he brings them up. The letter form is familiar but she hasn't made the connection yet.

[superjumpintomyheart]

Pearlie and Rina go on a boat trip on the S.S.Pearl., you know, the one she got when she was 6

okay we know inklings and octolings cant like live underwater but they can still touch it right so like,,, can they go swimming for fun or not? i just want to write abt pearlina with fun summer clothes doing fun summer things

~

"So, you just have an identical copy of the Manta Maria that your dad gave you when you were six years old?"

Pearl shrugged as she threw on a white sundress over her bikini, "Yeah? I remember the party we had on it afterward was hella fresh, I've done like a billion parties on this thing since then."

Marina was not exactly expecting this to be what Pearl meant when she said they should go boating, but as she thought about it a bit more while getting ready for their trip, it made sense. She wore a teal bikini top and a pair of distressed denim shorts over her bikini bottoms, hopefully their time outside would help even out her somewhat awkward tan line she had developed from wearing her signature crop top.

"We've lived together for how long now and I never knew this?" She laughed, packing up the rest of her things into a tote bag she slung over her shoulder. Pearl was nearly ready as well, applying a layer of sunscreen to her entire body.

"There just hasn't been any time to use it! The S.S.Pearl is a special occasion boat and we've been putting on concerts like every other weekend, Rina."

When the pair finished getting ready and arrived at the dock, Pearl's private captain, an older inkling man, greeted her with a bow, "Welcome Pearl, Marina. Pleasure to have you both on board today, as your captain I will ensure the course of your trip is smooth sailing."

Pearl gave a fake salute to him, laughing it off and patting him on the arm instead, "Thanks, Cap. It's just us two so you can loosen up a bit too, have some fun!"

Marina smiled at the inkling, he seemed like the type of person who loved what he did, being on the water was probably as much fun for him as it was for Pearl to perform. She followed her girlfriend onto the main deck where there were various spots to relax and hang out, outdoor couches and chairs around coffee tables, a canopied seating area with a flatscreen tv, and of course a killer DJ booth with a lit up dance floor in front of it. It certainly was different than the Manta Maria in how it was decorated, but the layout was still the same as the boat that many cephalings played turf war on.

"Wow Pearlie, this is really incredible," the octoling sighed as she took in her surroundings.

"Oh you ain't even seen nothing yet, there's still the bedrooms inside, the sauna, the battle station," she rambled on about the features of her ship, but Marina had to interrupt.

"Wait- what's the battle station?"

A mischievous grin dawned on Pearl's face, the kind of expression she wore only when she had some kind of devious plan, "Wanna find out?"

With a bit of hesitation, Marina agreed and let herself be lead to the lower deck which was strangely dark. She felt like she was going to trip and fall as Pearl guided her through the hallway, but she had to trust her girlfriend. After a moment, they stopped along the wall in a different room, at least Marina thought it was a different room, she couldn't really tell in the lighting.

"Are you ready for this?" the inkling asked as she squeezed their hands together.

The taller girl nodded and squeezed her hand back, "I guess so?"

"Good." Then with the flip of a switch, the large room lit up in purple blacklight, revealing a small turf war course with two spawn areas on opposite sides that glowed fluorescent neon colors. Fake plants and obstacles were lit up with unnatural colors, yet enough darkness was left in the room to make it difficult to see quite where you would be stepping. Along the wall the light switch had been on, a line of weapons in every class and type stood waiting to be picked for battle.

"You have... a whole glow in the dark turf war stage on your boat?!" Marina asked, her jaw practically on the floor from how amazed she was at the engineering of such a place. She looked over at her girlfriend with a huge smile, and she received one in return.

"Sure do, now..." Pearl stepped off to the side to grab a pair of splat dualies, twirling one of the guns in her hand. "Wanna ink some turf?"

Marina excitedly ran down the line of weapons, finding her favorite splatbrella and testing its shielding capabilities before laughing, "It's on."

[dezmondmyles]

hello it’s me with another protocreed au that no one asked for but will get anyway. it’s a full fic i plan?? to write eventually lol i just have some other projects to wrap up first. in any case, i wrote out a rough outline of the fic to get a better idea of what i want to write, and thought fuck it, why not share with yall?

Desmond, an assassin agent of the Templars of Abstergo, is tasked with investigating a strange series of murders being committed against scientists from sister company, Gentek. The scientists are being killed in improbably strange and gruesome ways. Abstergo figures Desmond can use his Animus acquired Assassin skills to suss out the killer while Abstergo does their own investigation into Gentek.

As Desmond begins his investigation, he happens to meet an interested onlooker, an intense man named Alex, who is also curious about these strange killings. Alex claims he’s looking into it for “investigative journalism” reasons. Desmond suspects nothing at first, too wrapped up in his own head and in his task to think anything is really off about Alex. Together they meet up more and more until they basically become their own Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

Desmond becomes increasingly perplexed by the murders as they become more elaborate. He notes that the way these men are killed (perfectly sliced up, key organs removed, blood drained, etc) are impossible to achieve by human hands alone. Even the places and timing of the murders are improbable for someone to commit without being caught.

Eventually, Desmond decides to peek into the Abstergo-Gentek investigation, finding himself either blocked or being given breadcrumbs of information. Of course he realizes quickly enough that the higher ups are doing this on purpose, and chalks it up to them testing him and his abilities. To Desmond, this is nothing new to him.

The longer the investigation goes on, he finds himself growing closer and closer to Alex. He starts to open up to Alex about his purpose, his life, and the Animus project that he was forcibly subjected to. Alex grows surprisingly sympathetic towards him. He starts to give Desmond vague information about his own life as well, a childhood mired in tragedy and poverty. Desmond can tell there’s still more that Alex is not yet telling him, but accepts that in favor of keeping Alex’s companionship.

At a certain point, Desmond begins to realize the connection between the murders, and starts to catch glimpses of what he suspects is the killer; a shadowy figure with amazing parkour skills. He fails to capture them, as they evade him at every turn. It eventually occurs to Desmond that the killer is also testing him, aware that he’s investigating them, and is now becoming more flashy with the kills, as well as showing themselves, because they’re interested in him. 

With this now in mind, Desmond digs deeper into the Abstergo side of things, and starts unraveling the conspiracy that was hidden from him. He starts to find information about Project: Blacklight, an offshoot of an earlier Project: Redlight. Essentially, Gentek scientists acquired Redlight, a modified supervirus that was then further experimented on to become Blacklight.

What Desmond finds notable about the project is that Blacklight can consume cells, replicate them, and then is connected to all of them. They can then form together to turn their host into a living weapon. And the lead scientist for Project: Blacklight was Dr. A. Mercer, who became the host for his creation. After the virus took over his body, he was subjected to torturous experiments to test the limits of the virus. After several months of these experiments, he broke containment and fled into the city. Abstergo suspects that it’s him who is killing his fellow scientists as revenge for the experiments.

Now armed with this information, Desmond plots to finally capture Mercer once and for all. In his excitement, he stupidly blabs to Alex his plan. He wants to use the last, remaining scientist as live bait to lure Mercer in and capture him. Alex is dubious about his plan, but Desmond is adamant about it. 

By this point, Desmond and Alex have grown close. Desmond starts to express his hatred of Abstergo, how they choose to continuously make his life harder, after everything they’ve done to him. He tells Alex of all the things they’ve done to him outside of the Animus, how they’ve been using him as their tool without regard to his physical or mental state. He tells Alex how he had started a relationship with one of his handlers, Lucy, by accident, but came to truly love her. Abstergo knew about the relationship, but seemingly ignored it for months until one day, Lucy suddenly vanished and was never seen again.

He expresses to Alex how he’s since come to see himself as worthless after that, that no one wants him as a person, just as a weapon. In a moment of clarity, he openly sympathizes with Mercer, understanding why the other man would choose to freely kill those who wronged him with the supervirus powers. Alex’s whole demeanor suddenly changes, and he enthusiastically agrees to help Desmond with his plan. He promises Desmond that this time will be different, he will meet Mercer face to face. Desmond is surprised, but happy all the same.

A short time later, Alex calls upon Desmond, saying he’s found the last scientist, and gives him coordinates to meet up with him. Ready to finally put an end to all this, Desmond rushes out to the location, an old warehouse out by the docks. Once there, he finds the last scientist, bound and gagged. Alex is there, waiting patiently for Desmond. Desmond wants to start a stake out, knowing Mercer (who he is sure is following him) will come along soon.

Alex says not to bother, because Mercer is already here. Before Desmond’s very eyes, he reveals himself to be Mercer himself, and shows off his range of virus weaponry before carefully and surgically killing the scientist in front of Desmond. Desmond is actually surprised by this twist, despite knowing deep down, he knew there was something off about Alex. He realizes that everything weird about Alex he ignored in favor of companionship, and that all the puzzle pieces were right in front of his face the whole time.

Alex praises him for all his help, but also apologizes for getting so directly involved. Alex explains that he became infatuated with Desmond because of their relative similarities at the hands of Abstergo and Gentek. He says he wanted to ignore Desmond at first, but was intrigued by Desmond’s skills as an assassin. The rest fell into place on their own as he and Desmond grew closer. He had been wanting to come clean to Desmond for some time, and figured right there at the end was finally the best time as any to confess.

Desmond is both sickened and devastated. From the shock, he starts to slip into a Bleed, and ends up passing out. When he awakens, he finds himself in Alex’s apartment, of which he hasn’t been to at this point. Upon awakening, Alex immediately comforts him, but also gives him room to come to terms with everything that’s happened. Desmond wants to feel betrayed, but can’t, because surprise twists meant to fuck with him are just a normal part of his life. He expresses that he wishes that Alex had told him sooner, because then maybe things could have gone differently. Alex agrees.

Desmond asks Alex to explain what he meant by “infatuation” from earlier. Alex explains that he realizes he has feelings for Desmond, but not conventional ones. He was interested in Desmond at first as a detective. Then as an ally to get information from. Then a friend, of whom he saw himself in. Desmond’s breakdown from the other night made him realize just how similar they were, and he came to see Desmond as his true equal. All other secondary feelings he is conflicted on.

Desmond is still hurt, but strangely understands exactly what Alex is saying. Desmond says that he too found himself with conflicted feelings towards Alex, but had initially chalked it up to his own loneliness. Things are further complicated when Alex confesses that he isn’t actually Mercer; that when Mercer infected himself with the Blacklight virus, the virus took over and killed him, but absorbed many of his memories and assumed his likeness. Since he’s been “alive”, all he has known was the brutal experiments he was subjected to. It’s another reason why his attraction to Desmond grew; because Desmond is quite literally the only person he can actually relate to.

[This is probably the best moment to have these two freaks start making out and having some whacky ass monster sex because the real freak is me. This is my circus and I’m the head clown, honk honk.]

After consummating their strange attraction towards one another, Alex proposes that together, they dismantle and take down Abstergo. Desmond (unwittingly) helped him with his personal revenge quest, and would like to do the same for Desmond. He points out that Abstergo has taken far more from Desmond than possibly imaginable, and that neither will find peace until these Templar fucks are six feet under. Desmond is unsure at first, knowing just how far the Templar influence reaches. He feels he’s not worthy of such a task, having fallen so far from grace as a Brotherhood Assassin. But he realizes, at the same time, that makes him the most qualified.

After a very emotional talk, Alex asks one more time if Desmond will help him. Desmond finally agrees.

--

so there you have it! will things stay the exact same? maybe, maybe not. there’s more finer details and facts that will be included in the full fic, i just wanted to focus on The Story for this outline. i can’t promise a release date anytime soon cause again, i have a few other fics i wanna get done with first before tackling another long term project. but if anyone has questions or just wants to talk about it, you know where to find me lol

[askstrangeweird]

Welcome to @askstrangeweird! Where you can see all my fandom art and OC art and plans for my upcoming webcomic, "Glitch Hunters!" which is still pretty early in development. Most of my about me is in my Bio but I will include more here with an edit at another time.

(Michael Norton as Strange Weird, Eden @jiinglespurs as Scene)

[[Commission Status: Currently Closed]]

[[Blog Status: The little cartoon characters in my head are finally starting to have voices!!! Excited about all the slow progress on the 3D models, storyboarding and voice cast coming together ((now if only i could animate faster))!]]

The programs I use are, MediBang Paint, CSP, and Blender, I do all my art I can on either my PC or my phone. not the best 3D stuff, but I'm getting there slowly!

A sample of my stuff below the cut:

Fandom Related Art!

Glitch Hunters Art and 3D Model Progress updates!

Art for Friends! This before features characters belonging to @gorjee-art

Updated Height Charts of Current OC roster:

((Cakes was created and designed by my wonderful and talented friend @galaxydragos-artstation who helps me with ideas, and who you should totally go follow, characters featuring designs by equally talented @jiinglespurs will appear more in the future as well!))

GLITCH HUNTERS: is a show about a pair of best friends, Strange Weird (Michael Norton) and Scene Eden ( @jiinglespurs ) working as government contractors to help everyday people against Glitches they encounter while living inside a simulation! They work directly under the evil and corrupt ONE World Government President, Booker (Mark Philipp), that runs a blatantly illegal and criminal infested Wrestling promotion on tax dollars. Scene, the Glitch Hunters' muscle, uses the World Heavyweight Championship as leverage to blackmail Booker for continuous funding. One night Strange met and falls in love with Cakes (Ashely Vartorella), a demon from another dimension, an S-Level glitch, and after he begins questioning the entire reason he he does his job.

OC Tags:

Strange Weird

Scene

Booker

Cakes

Scarlet

Momo

Dr.Graves

Kimi

Kelly

Zarah

Nea Quinn

Sherbert Frost

Shock Doc

Civil Unrest

Ambulance Chaser

BlackLight

GhostSlave

Damien Blackberry

Dox M3 Dollie

((content warning: weed use and adult humor/language))

*Note*

Don't assume things about me irl based on my characters. I am a bi white nonbinary male (He/Him), however I like having a diverse cast of characters of all sexualities, genders and races because it reflects my friends and the reality we should be working towards, and I refuse to change that to fit anyone else's wants, and I avoid writing about hate centered issues like racism sexism, and homo/Xenophobia, not because I'm denying they exist and matter, but because I don't have the authority to speak on these things as if I have experienced them from all perspectives, and I understand that even if I did i may be speaking from a place of privilege. I also avoid religion as a topic, for much of the same reason, and because my fictional world in a fictional simulation may not mess with irl belief systems in a respectful way. If I am ever successful enough to hire a diverse team of people to help me improve the world I'm building now to be equipped to tell those kinds of stories through the correct lens, I'd be more than happy to consider it, but for now it's just me and I'll stick to what I'm comfortable with speaking on.

[nebsstories]

The Birthday Bash

—

Authors note:

I’ve conceptualized this scenario I think about a year ago, but hadn’t found the time or inspiration to write it down until now.

This story was inspired off of @cupcakeshakesnake’s Harbor Town AU, and the contents of this story is loosely based off another story I’ve read, please DM me for more details.

—

Be me, I’m just right out of college and I have no idea what to do with my life; degree is utterly useless so I look at local businesses, wanted to find somewhere I can stay until I can get a better job. I happened to live 10 minutes away from the local rat casino known as, “Chuck-E-Cheese”. It’s better than nothing, I guess. Go in, do interview, really basic stuff; guy interviewing me asks, “When can you start?”

On that day I sold my soul to the Chuck-E-Cheese company. That day began one of the worst experiences of my life.

I started that following Monday, making $10 on the hour, so it’s okay, I guess. I spent most of my week up until Friday getting acquainted with my fellow coworkers. Free food’s also a plus, pizza’s alright but I’ll take it. I clock in that fateful Saturday morning, my manager greets me at the door, she tells me that Saturday’s are usually when it’s at its peak so we’ll be swamped today. Oh and, there’s a big birthday scheduled tonight, and all I can hear from the poor guy wearing the costume is a low, yet audible, “Fuck my life.”

I cannot even begin to imagine how awful it’d be to be surrounded by fifty or so grease coated crotch goblins all at once, all the while dying of heatstroke in a furry costume. At least the building was air conditioned, because I heard that the suit doesn’t have ventilation, meaning it’s hot as the devil’s asshole at times. I was tasked with setting up the party area, the decorations were already provided to us and the theme was apparent from the skull and crossbones.

Around 4 in the afternoon, the rush starts to die down and we get a momentary feeling of euphoric silence, relief washed over us, though we were fools to think it’d last forever. We watched as tired parents dragged out their sugar high children, as the kingdom they’d lorded over was lost to them. In the wake of their foul dominion, the arcade games became sticky and greasy to the touch, they’d stained the carpets with spilled sodas and slices of mediocre pizza, in that moment I foolishly thought, “This can’t get any worse than the hell on earth I’d just witnessed.”

4:30pm on the dot, a man steps in. He looks like the sort of boho rockstar you’d see thrown up from the peak of 80’s rock and roll, with as much swagger in his step and a cool demeanor as he greeted the girl that gives all the kids the ink stamps (which are “invisible” until shown under a blacklight).

“‘Ello, I’ve a birthday reservation for Jackie, party of 40.” He follows up.

My heart stopped, my blood ran cold as the number echoed in my mind. He did not just say 40, I thought he was bluffing so I poked my head out to get a glance. Standing behind him was an army. An army of fun sized pirates. This man brought in an entire grade level to this Chuck-E-Cheese and we were at the brunt of it all.

Before I could dip my head into my manager’s office to fake sick, the kids flood the place. Cry havoc! And let slip the dogs of war, as instantaneously, children storm the restaurant; they take to the playhouse, the arcade, the party area. The place is nearly full and bursting at the seams with them, and as we pushed on, our manager cowardly hid within the confines of the office. Meanwhile, the rest of us are panicking, chefs are stressing - their nerves pulsating and brows glistening with sweat from the amount of pizza they have to keep pumping out. It’s a madhouse, it’s anarchy!

Rockstar here isn’t doing jack shit, he’s just leaning against the wall playing guitar and waiting for it to be over. Another adult - a biker looking man, just got jumped by 20 or so children. Proudly, one boy, with a wide brimmed hat adorned by a single plumed feather and a toy monkey around his torso, holds up the poor man’s wallet. “Gents! Our hope is restored!” The other members of his crew cheer loudly, leaving the man they’d just mugged on the floor to abuse his poor aching debit card in exchange for tokens.

Outside the restaurant, I spotted Mayor Swann with his daughter in tow and a birthday present in her hand, then him taking one look at the chaos and deciding in that moment to turn around and leave. No doubt lying to his child that the restaurant had closed. Forever. No wait, take me with you, Mr. Mayor!

My train of thought was interrupted when one of the children, a boy with his hair pulled back into a ponytail asks me, “Excuse me sir, when is the show?”

Another chimes in, this one must be the birthday boy, Jack. I’d never seen a kid look this smug my entire life, “Oi, we’ve invoked the right of Parlay, we demand to see Charles Entertainment Cheese.”

I stuttered for a brief moment to regain my composure. What have I just gotten myself into? “It’s coming soon, kiddos!” Luckily, that was enough to suffice, as they’d rush back to the arcade.

Eventually the animatronic show from hell begins, the band begins playing kids songs. I don’t know what these kids were expecting, but it’s clear that the works of Scott Cawthon had done a number on their minds, as one of the children in attendance - probably the one with the slicked back ponytail, begins freaking out. One of my coworkers has to swoop in to make the kid happy. Others that were paying attention kept asking, “Where’s Freddy Fazbear?” The kids are now chanting, “Freddy! Freddy! Freddy!” I’m surprised with the pirate theme they’re not clamoring for Foxy. One chubby kid, miraculously gets up to the Chuck E animatronic, begins shaking him whilst interrogating him on the whereabouts of Freddy and his gang. He’s shaken the robot enough times where it’s god damn head FALLS OFF. Screaming ensues. I’m amazed this kid didn’t put Chuck E”s head on a pike a la Lord of the Flies, though even then I’m sure half of them will need therapy after seeing their fellow pirate brethren decapitate their beloved, cheese eating deity.

While most of the party was distracted, two of them have managed to SNEAK INTO THE KITCHEN and are stealing toppings off the pizzas. Not off the prep stations, but straight off the pizzas, I’m pretty sure half of them don’t even wash their hands. We had to remake them because we didn’t want the health department on our asses.

One of them managed to steal a whole pizza for himself and scarf it down near the ballpit. I think it was one with the wide-brimmed hat.

The birthday boy was easily the worst of the bunch; within two hours, he’d managed to hop behind the prize counter while the guy working there escaped for a bathroom break, took every miniature tote bag off the rack and used them to stuff as much prizes as he could carry. His little arms made him look like a coat rack as he waddled out from behind the corner with his treasure.

And I’ll bet you’re wondering, where was I in the chaos? Being tormented by a duo, the kid who decapitated Chuck E and another who wore an eyepatch, asking me question after question. You know, things a kid would ask like, “Whatcha doing?” Or, “What’s the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?” Actually, the one with the eyepatch kept throwing those curve balls and it made me wonder what this kid was doing in his spare time.

Then the dinner bell rang, or rather, the rockstar parent called, “Pizza’s ready!” Finally, a moment of calm as slices are distributed amongst the group. But all hell breaks loose when the sodas are passed around. Oh god no, god please no, literally give them anything but soda. It’s too late now, that bastard knew what he was doing. It was like watching the fireworks at a Fourth of July celebration, as these kids practically exploded with sugar-induced adrenaline pumping through their little bodies.

Then the final blow: the cake. Ah yes, what a cake, I remember it fondly. No expense was spared for this occasion, when most parents provided a sheet cake from their local grocery store, rockstar here provided an elaborate cake worthy of 40 or so screaming children. A treasure chest; with chocolate gold coins, the strings of pearls made from modeling chocolate and candied necklaces, precious gems made from rock candy for that nice pop of color, and a delicate map made from marzipan that read, “Happy Birthday Captain Sparrow!”

It was carried in by a man who looked to be about my age, his hair pulled back into a ponytail like that kid from earlier - though I assure you, his was messier than in comparison to the kid, and he’d be wearing a dark blue shirt. Ah, now I recognize him; James Norrington, he was an elementary school teacher but he also worked the Tortuga Arcade during Winter Break. Really nice guy. A moment of silence fell once the door opened, all the children nearly gave themselves whiplash to stare at the newcomer.

“Oh look,” they’d think, “another adult we’ve yet to wear out.”

I’m just mentally screaming at this man, “Run! Run while you still can!!”

It was in vain, as the screech of, “Cake!” Coming from the birthday boy signaled the others to descend upon him. The man struggled to keep the cake out of their grasps, holding it high up and calling, “Mr. Teague, would you please provide me with some assistance? And where is Mr. Teach?”

Mugged and still laying facedown on the floor. That cannot look comfortable, but I suppose playing dead was miles better than the alternative, which was staying awake for this mess.

Finally, rockstar does something, casually getting past the crowd to retrieve the cake with a simple, “Thanks.” Manager asks me to do a headcount, make sure the kids were all still here and not somehow sneaking out into the rooftop or something.

37…38…39…oh shit. Where’s the birthday boy?

I couldn’t just make my panic known, so I started poking around the restaurant for him, I’d even asked one of my coworkers to check the roof for the birthday boy. And Mr. Teague was beginning to notice. God, I didn’t want to tell him I’d somehow lost his kid. But, then I realized that, he wasn’t looking at me; he was looking straight at the play area. And as luck would have it, there in the ball pit, I see the kid’s head poking out with a smug grin. Thank god.

After cake and presents was when the real damage kicks in, chairs are now flying, one of our front windows gets smashed into a million pieces, and now requires repairs. I don’t even know HOW they can even find the strength to accomplish that, so I’m mildly impressed. The manager’s office is then stormed and papers flew everywhere and into the party area. Of course Mr. Sparrow nor Mr. Teach don’t end up paying for damages, not like we’d want their money anyway. We want compensation for the emotional damage we had to endure that evening. Norrington fled not long after the cake was delivered, not like I’d blame him.

Eventually, parents and guardians come around to come collect their kids, even Norrington shows back up to pick up one of them, the one with the ponytail apparently. At least Teague tips us generously, seems he knows the sort of chaos this kid and his posse can unleash.

It’s 11, closing time. During cleanup, we take survey of the property damage that had occurred in the wake of that birthday party; your usual stained carpet, but also now featuring turned over furniture, ruined play area, arcade games now so stuck, I’m pretty sure they’d have to call someone in to clean them, raided prize corner, damaged animatronics. It was as if a bomb had gone off in here. It was over, the siege of port Chuck-E-Cheese had leaned in favor of Captain Jack Sparrow and his band of miscreants.

I left, but never came back for my next shift. I spend Sunday and Monday job hunting, and luckily I was able to land a job with the East India Trading Company.

I’d thought I’d seen the last of Jack, and his vast pirate army. Life as an underling in EITC was as mundane yet stable as one could imagine an office job to be, money flow is steady with a 9 to 5, paid vacation time, they’ve even got dental. I’d moved out of my crappy apartment and moved somewhere I could enjoy the peace and quiet; I vowed to never have kids. Life was good.

Until one Monday, I saw Jack again, he was pestering my boss, Beckett, asking him question after question. One of his little friends is aggressively flossing in another room, Jack has now gotten ahold of one of the company computers. Somehow he unleashes a virus. All the of work I’d poured in the past few hours gone the drain and now I’m openly mocked by a video of badly played recorder music. The bass is boosting hard, my ears are bleeding.

I’m going to put in my request for a transfer tomorrow.