#boardwalk of beasts

[pankomako]

Your last reblog made me a little braver and I love Boardwalk of Beasts so hi! i know its not August yet but can you tell us more information about August? I really only remember memes and stuff from the old account so I'd love more information on any of them really :)

ohhh man it's been a while since i did anything with boardwalk much less august. i just remember he's pansexual, likes photography, he skateboards, and he's an overall nice kid. i really never did much with him outside of him being parker's love interest honestly. i wish i had more on him but i dont unfortunately

[romancemedia]

CGI Animated Movies (2)

[silverrushh]

I love anything under the boardwalk related 'cause... being fr the movie isn't great, like at all, it's just ok. But it scraches my brain in the right way at times and i love it for it. The character designs are as npc as possible and the music is basic asf for a musical, BUT STILL, I LIKE IT SM

MrBeast, how'd you do that, damn

Anyway, anyone else prefers the social classes dilema over the love story? I couldn't give a fu less ab Armen and Ramona; Bobby, Shelly, Manny and Mako do it for me (Specially Mako, he's going straight to my hear me out cake) (and getting a drawing, ofc)

[lustlovehart]

Oh to be the monster hunter. I want to dream about limping to the end of a boardwalk and crumpling into a pile. It's the end of a long night. Maybe I am gravely injured. The last thing I see in the deep dark water, before passing out, are glowing eyes. For dramatic effect, it is snowing.

Fangirling over this imagine right now (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

In this case, I'd like to imagine it in a scenario where MH!Reader and whatever creature that could possibly lurk in the shadows of a lake (Octavinelle, Sebek, or maybe even Rook!!) have already known you for quite some time. Chances are they followed you out of worry, eyes trailing after you with each movement. They watch you become brittle with cuts and wounds from lesser beasts.

If you don't end them, they'll make sure they do.

With each drop of snow, your body grows colder, the falling flurries coating your skin. You don't know where you're going, only that you must go somewhere.

Crimson coats your fingers from where you put pressure on your wound. At some point, the pain becomes too great, and your body collapses to your knees. Your vision becomes blurred, snow puffing around you, dying red. Before you slip from conscious, eyes glow from below, a cold hand taking hold of yours.

��

You won’t feel the way those hands hold your body close, mentally transferring all your pain to them. Cold arms hugging you into the embrace. Truthfully, it could make matters worse, but he doesn’t care, all that really matters is you in his arms. You won’t know the perpetrators for your state are swiftly punished, suffering an hour for each second of pain you endure. You won’t know the way he wraps you up, putting pressure to the wound any way possible… You won’t know that those lips of his kiss the blood that seep from you.

It’s tantalizing to keep going, your taste in his tongue. But, you won’t know that he holds himself back, because he’d much rather you keep all your blood.

But… he’s still a monster.

…

The next morning you’ll find yourself alone on the boardwalk, only a vague remembrance of fleeting touches delicate hands fixing you up.

[louroth]

For a fleeting second, your hand gripping the counter so hard it hurts, digging in, your brain mutes everything— the footsteps approaching, the shuffling of clutter on the floor— until you are back there. Until you feel the smell of wet earth and the rain on your shoulders, your cheeks, so fine it felt like running through a curtain of mist. The brief had been, well, brief, and you had set out to take down a hive just southwest of the outer ring. Easy. The boardwalks were new, pristine, gripping the soles of your boots as you stomped your way forward into the silent night. Light rain— the forest asleep. Huddling. Perfect for eliminating growing threats, the hives of beasts, gestating. Cooing in the dark. You nodded towards the exit your squadron was supposed to take, setting up shop at the junction, counting heads as they passed— smiling lazily as leith passed with a wink and a noisy kiss to the air between you. Sights aimed; all stationed, drop-ropes secured and ready to go: a breath of words passed down from mouth to mouth until it reached you: clear. But something felt off.

You blink, and swallow. A deep breath.

You couldn't have saved them.

They were gone the moment you affirmed the clear.

But.

You could have called it. As soon as you saw the flicker in the corner from your eye, before the ground rumbled from a starting stampede—

you could have called it.

It was only seconds. You've had so many of them.

You could have saved them. And now you can't even save yourself.

[rayveneyed]

cw: sexually explicit content / blood / relatively light sadomasochism / age + experience gap (reader is older + more experienced) / sub!choso / vampires 🧛‍♀️ / sex and violence as two sides of the same coin /

choso kamo is 160 years old when he meets you.

in those years of walking the earth, undead, he believes he’s embraced his vampirism as much as he possibly can. the broiling self-hatred he had once found solace in has reduced to a simmer, strongest in those moments of blood and guts and weakening heartbeats; and although he often avoids crowds, and companionship, and light, he no longer believes himself to be a slave of his own nature.

to be true — in the grand scheme of immortality, of vampirism — he isn’t anywhere close to the level of control he’d wish to have. often, when indulging yuji’s desire to enjoy the world as he did before his death — boardwalks and arcades and cotton candy — he feels his canines aching in his gums, stretching until they dimple against his bottom lip.

it’s not comfortable. it’s not confident. but even despite the growing aches, he’s no longer cowering in alleyways; no longer drinking from poor stray cats and garbage-chewing rats to momentarily satiate that ever-growing, gnawing hunger. he has some sense of control—

“oh, you baby-bats. so adorable.”

control which he now flounders to grab.

a sharp, inky black nail scrapes up the column of his neck — he can’t help but arch into it, head tilting back until his wide, pupil-blown eyes find the ceiling, with its intricate coving and obsidian chandeliers. the music from the main hall is nothing but a buzzing in the back of his head; thoughts of his friends’ whereabouts, an afterthought. your fingernail crowds the underneath of his jaw and stops at where his pulse point would have thrummed, would he have been alive.

you’re a demon. a devil. a she-beast. a succubus. any horrid, terrible name he could call you, he will — dressed in blacks and burgundies and gold older than him, your lips painted an ox-blood red and your eyes as sharp and dark as any polished knife. in your hands he is small. weak. mortal.

“satoru usually keeps his strays away, after last time,” you say, pouting now, though it’s a crude approximation of sadness — even now, your eyes glint with devilment. “so mean, when he knows i have a weak spot for bats like you.”

that wretched finger stretches up; pokes at his bottom lip, scrapes against the fangs that had — embarrassingly — extended from his gums at the simple weight of you on top of him.

“look at that,” you coo, and your grin is something unsettling, something that curdles in the pit of his stomach and heats between his legs. “excited, pup?”

his answering breath comes ragged, and it’s always more embarrassing than it was when he was human. his heart doesn’t work, his lungs do not work, and he has no need to breathe — in fact, he lost the reflex to do so around 92 years ago — but his brain is scrambled, it seems, wilted neurons confusing signals from almost two centuries ago. “i’m — ahem — i’m okay, duchess.”

“how sweet. you don’t have to call me by my title, you know. my name will do just fine.” at his silence, you push yourself up from where you’d been laying low against his chest — looking far too excited when you say: “unless, of course, you like it.”

his hands tremble at his side. he can’t remember the last time he’s indulged in — in debauchery. the last time someone’s made him feel like they’re holding his heart in their hands. over the past hundred-odd years, he’s avoided it like the plague, and for good reason — most vampires aren’t known for their commitment, let’s just say. and now you’re on top of him looking like every sin he’s tried to avoid, and he’s straining so hard in his pants he fears he’ll cum before you even hint at removing a single article of clothing.

you press yourself flush again, nosing at his neck. he knows, for the first time in his long life, what it feels like to be prey. is this what his victims had felt when he ripped into their throats, young and inexperienced and bloodthirsty? did their vulnerability sit like a stone in their throats?

a groan comes from you, suddenly, and your tongue darts out to lave against his skin. choso’s answering moan is more of a whimper, broken and weak in his mouth, but you don’t seem to notice — or care. he flexes his glutes in an effort to stop himself from rutting up against you — not only would it be embarrassing, desperate, but it would be rude. this is your house, after all. your soirée. your gilded halls and bedazzled walls. your silk sheets against his back. your satin skirt bunched around your waist.

“tell me, pup,” you say, and he fights the instinctual reflex to shiver at the brush of your lips against his skin, “have you ever fed from our own?”

“hm?” it’s a sound of confusion brought half on by his simple lack of knowledge, and half on by his slow-processing brain. only seconds after does he fully register your question, and the eyes he hadn’t realised he had screwed shut flew open. “no. i — i didn’t know that was possible.”

all at once, you’re sitting up again — swinging your leg over his hips until you’re standing. it wouldn’t be right to call it clambering — you are impossibly graceful, even passed the agility and elegance that comes with the gift of the undead. his hands reach for you before he can stop them, a sound like a question on his tongue, and you send him the sweetest, most tooth-rotting, stomach-turning smile. he thinks he likes your biting, cruel grins more, though you’re lovely regardless.

you begin to reach for the ties of your corset at your spine — just another thing that makes his mouth water. people didn’t wear these sorts of clothes anymore, not in the human world. but he remembers the skirts and corsets from paintings of noblewomen hundreds of years ago, and how he’d admire the curve of their waists, the swell of their chests—

“of course, satoru wouldn’t tell you. why would he?”

his eyes snap up from your chest, caught with his hand in the cookie jar. but you don’t seem to mind. the corset is removed painfully slowly, for no other reason than to torture him; then, the outer dress, with its carmine satin and intricate embroidery. you throw it to the floor carelessly, as if the most knowledgeable museum curators wouldn’t prostrate themselves at your feet for the simple chance to display it for millions to see — a while his eyes drink up the sight of more skin, the whisper of form beneath your underdress and bloomers, you near him once more.

metal to a magnet, a moth to flame, he pulls himself to the edge of the bed. you find a place between his legs and grasp his chin, and choso can’t look away from you.

“i can take you apart and put you back together,” you say — promise — voice like crushed velvet, quiet and creeping like a choking vine. your thumb smooths over his cheek and ends at its apple, where you press the sharp tip of your nail into his flesh. “i can show you the pleasures of your eternal life, and its pains, and everything in between. i can bring you to every edge, and draw you back from them just as quick — and it will be painful, and you’ll enjoy it so much you won’t be able to go another day without it.”

he’s lost the ability to speak. his unmoving heart is in his throat — or in your hands, or between your sharp teeth. you tilt your head and regard him with knowing, twinkling eyes.

“all you have to say, pup, is yes.”

oh, it’s out of him so quick he can hardly keep up — a word so breathy you’d swear you’d already had your way with him. but embarrassment is a thing of the past when your smile stretches, and you murmur marvellous. you release him from your grasp, much to his chagrin, but when you begin pulling down your bloomers his attention shifts.

he can smell you. smell you. the musky, salty scent of between your legs — a smell that has his mouth watering and his fingers cramping from how hard he fists the sheets. your bloomers are damp when you discard them, sticky with your arousal, and pride glows in choso’s chest. he didn’t do much, but it seemed enough — if he had only let himself lose control, hump up against you harder, perhaps it would’ve stained his clothes; seeped through your layers and onto his lap. he’d go home and hold it over his nose until the scent faded, and perhaps after.

“new as you are,” you say, climbing onto your bed once more and reclining back against the numerous pillows — huffing a mean-sounding laugh when he crawls after you. “i’ll do you the mercy of taking it easy, just this once. oh, don’t make that face — you look like a kicked puppy. i promise you’ll enjoy what i have in store for you.”

and you hike up your underdress, and spread your legs. choso’s mouth waters — the thick smattering of hair on your mons, your flower-like labia, shiny with your arousal. and your clit, peeking out from its hood, pink and shiny and begging to have his mouth on it. but as if this wasn’t enough — as if he wasn’t already scrabbling to get between your legs — you take one of those long, sharp nails, and drag it against your inner thigh. the skin splits. blood trickles down from the wound like a river of gold, flowing into the crease between your thighs and your pussy, and it smells ambrosial. if his fangs were aching before, they’re screaming, now. this isn’t human blood; this is richer, sweeter, creamier. delectable. hedonistic. you’ll make a glutton of him.

“after all,” you say, grinning wickedly, “i’m treating you to a most delectable meal.”

[father-rizzmas]

random headcanons

yuwen would love the savannah bananas

kai secretly gets yuwen hooked on "real princesses" and sometimes he joins her and her grandma for watch parties (she is sworn to secrecy about this tho)

laurie and rochelle sing for "the first time in forever reprise" every karaoke night/sleepover (laurie is anna and rochelle is elsa)

they also sing "what is this feeling" (laurie is galinda and rochelle is elphie)

laurie is actually a really good singer and does theater/choir/voice lessons after quitting softball

laurie has t1d

laurie is the kind of person who just looks like she is allergic to peanuts so everyone assumes she is until one day she's caught eating a pb&j and everyone freaks out (besides rochie). poor girl is like "im diabetic not allergic to peanuts, this is my insulin pen NOT an EpiPen."

taylor is also a pretty good singer, but it isn't her main focus like laurie

taylor loved to get the boardwalk hermit crabs every summer at the beach, but ira told her about how badly they were treated and she never got another crab again

people think tom would be good at basketball bc of his height, but he's actually AWFUL

TW: laurwen (if you don't ship, don't interact)

their school makes them do a musical every year for some sort of arts credit, 6th/7th graders have the option to audition for actual roles but it is required for 8th graders. the pickles' 8th grade show is beauty and the beast (jr ofc) and laurie is belle (QUEEN). yuwen gets beast bc he has a beast living inside him yk.

a little crush on both ends begins here but isn't fully realized/acted upon until high school when they start dating.

laurie fell first, yuwen fell harder.

cast list heehee:

belle- laurie ofc

beast- yuwen

mrs. potts - taylor*

chip - ira*

gaston- borna

lefou- lucianna (thought this was silly for the duo)

lumiere- rochelle

cogsworth - tom

babette - kai

*you just KNOW their dad is bawling in the audience about his babies growing up and getting this cute sibling moment*

[shellevisionfan]

🌸Welcome to Lamplight Valley🌸

(Dandy's World Sequel intro fic)

TW: BLOOD & VIOLENCE

[End of an Era] pt 1

June 29th, 2002...was the date and day of the unfortunate closing of the long running location and attraction from the 80's that all would know that was named...

Gardenview Educational Center

Shutdown for reasons of past allegations and lack of safety regulations...it has been abandoned and left to decay for the past twenty three years, assumed entirely empty and deserted..no person or company has saught to purchase such a building as it was seen as waste of resources, a sort of brand they wouldn't want to be associated with and a place just waiting to fall apart.

But...what the public don't know, that the curtain had been lifted, and a new company..was looking to retrieve something precious that was lost to time.

....a TV deep down in the bowels of Gardenview suddenly gets a..different signal from its usual programming of repeative old episodes of Dandy's World, and instead a commercial for--

Bzzt~!--

"...Oi~! You lookin for some summer fun?! Well! Come to the bay and vacay~!--At the newest addition to Lamplight Valley's...the Cooldown District~!"

zzzt--

"Play and chill out by the beach! Need something a little more filling? Go to the port and eat at the Pirate N Sailor Saloon~! But if your looking for some more exciting fun? Hurry onto the boardwalk and try out plenty of our splash tastic rides~!"

The commercial for this strangely nostalgic festering location rings on in the crumbling gove ridden building that was once sprawling with kids, as the sound of it brings the attention of a select few familiar but distorted faces...

"Water~you watching for?! Come to Lamplight Valley, June 30th, If you don't wanna miss out!!--" SMASH

A black, dripping fist crushes the TV in ward from the top, silencing the bright, colorful and sudden programming, the fist slowly rises up, glass and internals from the television fall off of it almost moist and dripping skin, flexing it's knuckles as it flares it's large, sharp talon fingers.

"...What a rude interruption" comments the figure as it's red glowing eyes were the only thing presenting any source of light, even if it was minimal. The sound of other foot steps broke the short silence, as other sets of eyes brought more light into the dark depts of the room. An almost strained growl came out of one of them, it's three toed feet clicked on the floor and its exposed black ribcage clinked with it's bones.

"..ggrrauh...raughh..." uttered the growling figure, she sounded sort of scared..angry?...it was hard to tell but she could barely say anything that didn't just sound like a beast trying to speak any form of confrehensible words. The first figure scoffed at her attempt of intimidation.

"...Fossilian..don't even..there's no need for alarm"

Said the figure as it got more in the light from the cracks of light that seeped in from the ceiling, spikey, faded rainbow petals crowned the face of this beast. It was Dandy.

"...I was simply silencing this new program that keeps popping up on these horrid televisons..it's a mystery to why they keep appearing, I'm honestly considering destroying any television we have left in this damn building--"

"ZZRRTT!!"

Unpromptly, the black claws of a tall metal, television headed monster slashed at Dandy and jumped onto the back of the flower beast, ad's and loud buzzers rang out of it's screen and speakers as it tried to attack and claw at the face of the larger creature

"RRAAUGH--VERISON 1..GGRR I WAS WONDERING WHERE YOU--HGHH..WERE!!"

Roared Dandy as he wrestled with the annoyance that clawed at his petals, quickly thrashing her off his back before slashing her fully away with his talons, knocking her into the now small crowd that formed around him.

"...ugh pleasant...just pleasant to see you join us Vee..." Dandy forces a smile as the corners of his lips twitch, he watched at Vee stumbled up, softly being helped up by a tall rotting figure, it being Sprout. With of course Vee irritatedly swatting him away as she made a buzzer sound come out of her speakers again as she glared back at Dandy.

"Oh..please!--..as much as I would want to, I'm not going to demolish you, those antenna of yours can barely broadcast your face half the time" Dandy reassured Vee in a condescending manner as his smile grew to be more of mockery toward the outdated tech monster.

Vee's mangled antenna twitched and sparked with electricity and anger as she buzzed, a loud buzzer sound blurted out of her speakers as she went to lunge at Dandy again before her lower arm was suddenly grasped by Shelly's flayed boney claws.

"...Z-Zrrzt.."

Causing the monsterous television to halt her pursuit for a small moment as her antenna drooped at the familiar touch, she turned to look at Shelly as a strained whine came from her as a way to show her concern for Vee's safety, as she couldn't bear to try and speak again as it hurt too much to.

"sigh...seriously, if I see another one of these signal malfunctions..I AM..gonna make sure any television in this building is gone permanently--"

The eery chime of stars softly crept in as one of the figures stepped up, interupting Dandy, it's two sets of arms clung to itself as it came more clear, it was Astro.

"...Dandy.." echoed the crescent moon as he walked up to Dandy, earning annoyed cowl from the multi colored petal beast.

"Astro..." Dandy replied back as he gestured toward the twisted for of his former best friend with a forced sharp smirk.

"You know out of all of us that destroying the televisions would do no good but irritate the others, theres barely anyone hanging on anymore and these televisions are a thing of comfort...familiarity"

Dandy's eyebrows furrowed, he glanced away from Astro as he crossed his arms, he wasn't having any of this. The rainbow flower groaned before looking back at Astro.

"...Do you seriously not see how strange and absurd all this is??--...how such a thing like this accurring, and NOW of all times?--"

"Dandy don't even know if this is a bad thing or not" Astro interupts Dandy, the statement swiftly angering the rainbow petaled beast, a growl uttered from his snarling maw.

"...what..?"

"Us getting a signal...after two and a half decades is..is well a good sign--a great sign even!"

"...you..don't know that.." Dandy mumbled

"Of something--no someone! Seriously..maybe someone is trying to communicate with us or...maybe..they..finally are here to--"

"YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!!"

Dandy repeated with a roar as he interjected, his red eyes glowed with rage, his pupils narrowed, making Astro's eye widen, however only for a moment as his eyebrows furrowed. Astro crossed his arms, he doesn't flinch or move an inch as he was standing his ground.

"ARE YOU EVEN THE SAME ASTRO ANYMORE?!--THINKING SUCH THINGS..--H-HAVING SUCH IDIOTIC HOPES IN SOMETHING YOU CAN'T EVEN KNOW WILL HAPPEN?! HOW OBLIVIOUS CAN YOU BE?!??--"

"Dandy..I know that I could be wrong..."

Astro cut in sternly, his voice having a sort of tone that sounded different, it made Dandy's stature faulter and his petals perked down.

"But for what it's worth, I still want to have hope, even if it looks to be of, obliviousness or idiocy in your eyes..I still want to be able to...LEAVE this place, Dandy" Astro continued, with his eye wide and his eyebrows furrowed, his red star glowed with as much emotion that was carried by his words.

Dandy's pupils shook as his petals wilted a little but then they spiked back up as fury filled him once more, bearing his jagged teeth he got on his hind legs, towering over Astro and the other three twisted mains behind him.

"..You..you want to leave..??" Dandy chuckled darkly as his face was now shadowed as he blocked out the light from the ceiling, casting a shadow of himself, only his red eyes were noticeable.

"Well..w-why didn't you say that sooner friend?!..If you want to leave so bad..I can certainly give you a much quicker...easier way to have your depature..."

Dandy said in a voice so thick with malice, anger and sadness, it sounded haunting, it sounded like music. The multicolored flower then flexed his talons and rose his arm up, he was threatening the crescent moon, he was threatening his once best friend with death.

"ZZRT--ASTRO!!"

Vee screamed out as she swiftly ran out to pull Astro out of harms way, Sprout and Shelly's attention was quick to be on Vee as Shelly roared in a panic trying to grab Vee again but she was already out of reach, the television then out stretched her arms to grab onto Astro--to grab onto anything, she can't let him die..she can't lose him again..she CAN'T fail AGAIN.

But then they all watched in horror as Dandy was in mid slashing motion and noticed Vee's little savior attempt. With annoyed snarl, he put all his force into re-directing his blow and--

SLASH...

...

...drip..drip...

Vee's screen was looking up with wide eyes, her pupils shook, as...she was holding Astro to her chest, them both on the ground as what stood between them and Dandy's talons, was...Sprout.

He took the strike right to his arm as a large gash was now along his massive arm, his eyes narrowed as he glared up at Dandy, letting out gurgley pants and winces as he was clearly in pain, black blood dripped from his wound on the ground.

"..S-Sprout...you..--your arm..." Astro murmured as he looked up in shock at Sprout, and at his deep wound from protecting both him and Vee. Vee acted fast on the time Sprout was giving them and she helped Astro up, backing him away from Dandy's range and over to where Shelly is, who which looked horrorfied staring at Vee with now sunken watery red eyes.

Dandy glared back at Sprout and all the others, his sharp petals flared up as the thorns around his arms grew sharper and his talons flexed as he swatted off Sprouts blood and tried to push him out of the way, but Sprout held Dandy back.

"...Get OUT of my way, Sprout..this doesn't involve you..this doesn't involve ANY of you..."

"THINGS CERTAINLY--ZZRT!...INVOLVED US MORE WHEN YOU TRY TO KILL ONE OF OUR FRIENDS--ESPECIALLY YOUR BEST FRIEND!"

Vee shouted back as she blocked Astro as Shelly stayed by Astro's side too. Sprout groaned in agreement as he rose up his hand and summoning and slashing Dandy away with one of his tendrals, making the multi-color flower stagger back.

Dandy was blinded by rage, the ichor has gone to his head and he couldn't think clearly, after years of being in this form. Dandy couldn't think logically...all he could think of was..violence.

...

"Okay...I have..had..ENOUGH "

Dandy roared before he grabbed Sprout's left upper arm with his teeth, sinking in his sharp teeth like a rabid beast as Dandy brutally tore off Sprouts entire arm off, bone and muscle torn as the twisted wailed in horrified pain and agony. His eyes wide, he was visibly stunned all as black blood coated the ground with a quick splat and little sputters of blood that spewed out.

"SPROUT!!"

The other three looked on as Sprout was shoved to the side like the useless fruit he had become to delusional flower beast, they never thought Dandy could go this far, was he truly too far gone..? Astro gripped at his ripped up blanket as he looked at Sprout and then Dandy.

Sprouts body shook as he could barely move, he let out shutters and whines of pain as a puddle of his blood pooled beneath him, Dandy just looked down at him, snarled with disgust and kicked him, making the twisted strawberry choke in pain.

"DANDY!!--STOP IT!"

Astro cried out as he pushed through Vee and Shelly to try and get to Sprout but Dandy snapped to look at Astro and he smacked him away, making Astro tumble back against a wall.

"HAHAAHAA~!"

Dandy's red eyes glowed brighter as they narrowed, he glared down at Astro with a look only one gives to who was their prey, Dandy then let out a sickly laugh as he then lifted Astro up by his already ripped blanket, Dandy was playing with his food, holding Astro up like hanging meat, holding him up like a hanged man.

"..oh Astro~ I'll stop...besides...wouldn't want anyone else missing out on the fun you started"

"..w..what..?--WHAGH"

Astro was barely able to mutter before Dandy dropped him, leaving him to fumbly get on his knees as...Dandy headed toward Vee and Shelly. Vee quickly shielded Shelly, antenna buzzing in rage but that only made Dandy's blind state of delusion and bloodlust grow as his face was shadowed but his grin and wide red eyes were on perfect display.

...

"...Seriously, Verison 1?" Dandy chuckled as he flexed his talons and leaned down to the twisted televisions screen, clear louder static grew out of her screen as he got closer. "I seriously question how your the logical one, out of all of us..."

Dandy then swiftly shoved Vee down on to the floor and grabbed Shelly by her exposed, ichor stained ribcage, the twisted fossil roaring out in distress and terror in response.

"Rraughh!!--Aaghhh!!"

"NO NO NO ! ZZRRT--DON'T HURT HER!"

Vee screamed quickly as she got on her feet, she looked up at Dandy and Shelly in his clutches, her gaze upon Shelly was of clear emotion in her staticy messed up screens expression, her optics showed fear, oh..oh..the ichor liked fear.

"..Oh..wow!...HAHAA WOW!! ARE YOU REALLY REALLY WORRED ABOUT HER?!?" Dandy roared mockingly as he squeezed at Shelly's ribcage, making her whine in pain and tries to claw at Dandy's grasp with her clawed feet.

"FOR YOU OF ALL TOONS TO BE WORRIED ABOUT A TOON, YOU'VE IGNORED FOR YEARS?! SERIOUSLY?!--HAHAA~!!..aahh Golly~ You are a treat, I forgot how funny you are~! Maybe out of all you...I'll save you for last, Vee..."

"..wait..WAIT--NO NO ZZRTT--DANDY PLEASE "

Vee pleaded as she attempted to climb up Dandy's large stature to reach Shelly before it was too late but she was smacked down by Dandy immediately, breaking Vee's leg from the impact. He barely hesitates anymore and squeezed onto Shelly's ribcage, tighter and harder until--CRUNCH

"NOOOO!!"

"AAAAGGHHH !!! "

Shelly screamed in agony as her ribs were caved in, crushed with her spine snapped and shattered within Dandy's grip, Shelly just trembled with her mouth a gape as she couldn't do much else but try to breath, her eyes grew foggy, they hooded before she choked up some black blood...

...Thump

Shelly's mangled body fell to the ground as the multi colored flower dropped her like trash. With every twitch of her body came a crackle of her black bones.

Vee laid across from it all as she was frozen in horror, the ammonite struggled to take even a single breath as it was winded and worn in gruelling pain, her gaze trembled with black tears as it landed on the twisted television.

"...V..Vee.." Shelly whispered, tone strained and growled. Vee's eyes widened as her pupils narrowed, she stuck out her claw as it trembled, her screen glitched and her antenna drooped, she couldn't utter anything as her voice modules were damaged from Dandy's strike, now only making sparky clicks. "...."

"..finally...at least one of you are quiet.." Dandy growled as he loomed, the twisted flower glanced back at the broken creature beneath and lifted his foot over the ammonite, his red glow from his gaze coated his shadowed visage more grimacely.

"...y'know..Fossilian, I always found..you to be quite forgettable...annoying too..hehe, a few here would agree~.."

Dandy glanced around to the other three with a chuckle to his tone, his glare then shot right back to Shelly beneath him as he pressed his foot onto the ammonite slightly, even that touch alone made her cry out in pain.

"..."

"..Go back to being extinct...--"

"OI!--WILTLED WATERLILY! "

A unfamiliar and echoy voice shouted mockingly, shattering the tension Dandy built up like candied glass. His attention was pulled away at a sudden blinding light of a silhouette that then swiftly shot its boot directly into the face of the beast, impact was instant, thrusting Dandy's massive figure through the near by wall.

A person--no..a toon had appeared, radiating confidence, sparkling justice, and...a light bright enough to illuminate the entire room, the entire sky even. A comet. The toon crossed his arms as his radient starry glow only grew brighter, his eyes narrowed at the rumble he floated above.

"...Have you no exhibit etiquette??--...The fossils are fragile..."

...the comet figure snarled

"And so are other toons..."

[palossssssand]

Slug City fake movie poster for Smooks, featuring the bay's harbor boardwalk, foggy seas, and her beast made of paint.

[pankomako]

PARKER HILLTREK IN THE MODERN AGE. OGS GO CRAZY

[gymbunnycandiehart]

10 Don’ts for any Gym Bunny

1) Don’t be a sissy in the gym–I get it: Some gym bunnies want to be sissies and be humiliated or feminized by men or women.  If that’s your thing, more to you.  But don’t be a sissy in the gym.  Just because you’re a guy dressed like a girl doesn’t mean you have to be a powder puff.

2) Don’t let the gym rats steal your joy–Nobody should steal your joy.  They might assault your happiness, but nobody can take the joy that belongs to you.  Those intolerant beastly men (gym rats) are just upset because you’re hotter than their girlfriend.

3) Don’t overpad your sports bra–I can see why you would want to look stacked, but there’s no logical reason to give yourself extra padding.  Nobody wants to see your pads falling out all over the place. 

4) Don’t be a harry Mary in beast mode–On the flip side of being a sissy, neither do you want to be a clumpy beast of a guy.  It just doesn’t work.  Yes, work out hard and tough, but don’t try to compensate for the lack of manliness you are exhibiting in your cute workout clothes.

5) Don’t be a tease without intent–It’s a lot of fun to be a tease, to flirt, or pose seductively with weights in hand.  But if you’re not trying to garner the sexual attention of some guy or girl, don’t do it.  Save it for the shower (lol-just kidding).

6) Don’t wear tennis shoes twice in two days–Keep your outfits mixed up.  If you are a true gym bunny, you have at least six pairs of adorable sneakers.  Mix it up one day to the next and keep yourself looking fresh and beautiful from head to toe!

7) Don’t wear Keds to lift weights–Yeah, they’re cute with rompers and cutoff shorts, but they have no place in the squat rack…or even in the zumba class.  They’re not made for that.  Save them for the mall or for the boardwalk.

8) Don’t fret over your revealing clothing–If you’ve got a good tuck going on (see #10), then there is no reason why you can’t be as bare as permissible.  You don’t want to be a slouch and you need not worry over what others think.  If you’ve got it, flaunt it…not for others, but for your developing personality.

9) Don’t mismatch your tops and bottoms–If I have to explain this one, then you need to take up golf from the seniors’ tees.

10) Don’t forget to tuck yourself tightly–You’ll get used to it.  Nothing ruins a sleek womanly look than some unsightly bulge in tight-fitted hot shorts.  You’re better than that.

This was an OLD OLD post from way back when, but what a fun one! Have fun in the gym, girlies.

Love ya much

CandieHart

[porcelainseashore]

Summer Solstice - Beach Episode by Night

Commissioned art by @medeaft

Author's Note: My “drabble” (inspired by a music ask) for the lovely @beach-episode-by-night event. A heartfelt thank you to @mortifying-macaroni and @alibellerosetta whom I dedicate this piece to. Your encouragement made it possible.

Along the I-10 highway to Tucson, Wynter takes a detour toward the coastline on impulse, chasing the memory of a bygone summer’s day.

Content Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, references to murder, wraith, pre-canon, weird uncle/niece relationship, blame it on the Giovanni.

How long has it been?

The chime sounded as she left the car door open with her keys in the ignition, monotonous, comforting yet cajoling her to do something about it. It didn’t matter; hers was the lone automobile on the desolate street. If someone wanted this piece of junk, they’d earn the right by swiping it off her hands behind her back.

In the tepid late October air, Wynter had taken a detour off the I-10 toward the Gulf Coast on a whim, with the windows rolled down because the air conditioner wasn’t working—it never did. Closer to the basin, the smell of brine from the Atlantic hit her tenfold. She had been swimming in her thoughts, her reflexes on autopilot, as if she remembered the route by heart. That was the question, what did she remember? Why had she come here, when she had spent the last two decades running off and reinventing herself, just like her estranged sire, Violetta, taught her to?

Instead of answering, she faced away from the wind, lashes downturned and fluttering, as she cupped her hand over her mouth, lighting up a cigarette and ignoring the faint protests of her Beast. The wind was still as violent as she’d left it. Heeled boots crunched into gravel, which finally opened out to soft mounds of sand. She wasn’t in a hurry; she had time to kill, even with her battered, old Honda that was on its last legs. 

The Prince could wait. 

What was a couple of USB sticks that he desired good for? They lay stuffed and suffocated in her worn-down satchel—one she’d found while rummaging through the trash—with its straps chewed and frayed at the ends. Maybe just enough for emergency repairs and a meal or two, if she was lucky.

From afar, she could make out the salt-stripped cafes, gaudy tiki bars with their balding straw roofs, and a row of little wooden clapboard houses, paint-chipped and peeling, along the boardwalk. Weather-beaten “For sale” and “We’re closed!” signs hung awkwardly from the establishments, some on their last nail, swaying to and fro, creaking in the breeze. Her gaze trailed over the tired beach chairs, deflated pool toys, and broken surfboards. A smattering of them had found their way across the divide, acting like driftwood in the sea.

The sound of children’s giggles and bare feet pattering on the floorboards echoed in the distance. She gripped her bag tight, but did not look back. Her shoes were sinking into the wet sand now, and the air carried warm moisture which settled beneath the layer of clothes onto her skin. Her very own form of sweat.

The moon illuminated her path, but at the edge of the ocean, she was at a loss for what to do. Why was she here? What had called her? How—

“Wynter,” it whispered, balmy in the zephyr. “Why don’t you come out to play?”

She shielded her eyes, as though blinded by the brilliant sun, peering out into the vast space before her. And there he was, clear as day, in his light blue shorts and a roseate burn creeping through his tanned back, wading toward her in the water. Earlier, she had been sulking under the beach umbrella while her mother flipped through a magazine and her father chatted jovially with other men over rounds of drinks at the bar.

The wind was howling. Fine, white sand swirled in the current. She didn’t like how hot it got under her feet. Everything hurt. But for Lucien, she would bear through it all. His smile ached as she splashed into the water, salt clinging to her lips and foam gathering in the tendrils of her hair. She took a deep breath and dived, dipping under the waves of the high tide. A strong pair of arms entangled around her waist as she was drawn out of the sea, and she wriggled to break free of their grasp while her uncle chuckled. And soon, she was laughing too.

“My very own mermaid,” he murmured. 

Wynter bared her teeth and hissed, “But I will drown you and taste your flesh.”

He touched her chin, smiling sadly. “Well, it would be worth it, to me.”

She didn’t think anything of it then, bounding out of Lucien’s embrace and paddling through the waters. That day, under the cloudless sky and the sun’s rays glittering beyond the horizon, she felt how magnificent it was to be alive. Glancing over at Lucien, she paused, meeting his eyes, shifting azure blue, watching the droplets trickle down his brow. The waves crashed on shore. Seagulls crooned overhead. Time whiled away in silence. Their eyes searching for a morsel they could hold on to. Years of an unspoken bond buried in a look. He believed in it then, how pure and indescribable it was. And the curve of his mouth reflected hers.

For all the trials he would be put through, he’d gladly suffer, even if there was no end in sight. She waded closer to him, the water now reaching waist-high. But it was murky. Her cigarette butt had gone out, leaving traces of the woody scent of dark tobacco in the air, but even that too was fading. Instead of the heat of the sun beating down her back, she encountered the cool, umbral glow of the moon, iridescent on her bloodless skin. She wanted it to burn her alive.

Her Beast recoiled at the mere thought of seeing the light of day, but Wynter entertained it for a moment longer, savoring the fear, the way the light extinguished in someone’s eyes before they expired.

“Let me drown with you,” she prayed, the flicker of an unearthly sheen present in her eyes.

In her peripheral vision, a shadow flitted between the steel scaffolding of the once-grandiose pier, now in a state of irreversible decay, rusting to the elements. She remembered standing there as a child, sick from cotton candy, and the noise of the fairground rides flooding her ears. A postcard marred with heavy creases—one of the many within the bundle she had stashed in her glove compartment. She held it out in front of the pier, shutting one eye and squinting, then doing the same with the other. 

Every year, she received a blank card, the address scribbled in handwriting she didn’t recognize. Regardless of whether she stayed at a temporary residence or relied on throwaway collection points dotted across the country, they arrived without fail. “Wish you were here’s” by the ghost of a loved one on perpetual vacation. Places she had been to. Places she had dreamed of. This time, a picturesque painting of the old pier at dawn. 

It could have been a trap, but she found it strangely comforting, knowing she had a place to come back to, observing the swell and receding waves until she would be nothing more than ashes floating on the surface at the break of day. Kindred talked about death as if it were so final, but to her, death was only the beginning. A concrete structure on the pier groaned, loosening from its bolt before collapsing into the sea. The sound and vibrations were tremendous, but Wynter didn’t flinch.

How long could she drag this out? How much more could she keep on going?

For a while, she had been aware of a presence watching her, but made no sign to acknowledge its existence. It was tempting to seek it out, as was the habit of being a hunter, but she decided otherwise. The Shroud was thin here. Mortals had long since abandoned this place. Yet some remained. 

There was a deep rooted tingle in her spine. She had overstayed her welcome; she should leave, but not before—

The postcard slipped from her fingers, drifting in the stream until she lost sight of it. A featherlight kiss on the nape of her neck. She shuddered again and closed her eyes. When they opened, she checked the time on her cracked iPhone screen. 

Without a word, she followed her tracks back to her awaiting car, the chime still ringing incessantly. She hopped in and drove off, leaving whatever had happened that day behind. 

The Prince of Tucson couldn’t wait any longer.

Dividers by @diableriedoll

[eddieredmayneargentinablog]

"Day of the Jackal: Why Eddie Redmayne Couldn't Resist Returning to TV".

"I had massive trepidation," Redmayne tells emmy, but reading Ronan Bennett's scripts convinced him to join Peacock's adaptation of the classic thriller.

by Benji Wilson, for Television Academy, June 4, 2025.

📸 Photos by: Charlie Gray / TRUNKARCHIVE

In Frederick Forsyth’s classic thriller, The Day of the Jackal, the titular “Jackal” is a master of disguise. So when it came to casting Peacock’s TV adaptation, the first requirement was a lead actor who could transform .

“We all knew that Eddie Redmayne was a fantastically talented, ferociously intelligent actor who had chameleon-like qualities,” says director Brian Kirk (Boardwalk Empire, Game of Thrones). "But we were most taken with what he did in The Good Nurse; he was playing very aggressively in a contemporary space. And he was playing a character who was inherently unknowable and very dangerous — perfect for the Jackal.”

“With Eddie, it’s not just what you can do with prosthetics and how you can change looks, but also his physicality, his gait and all of those things,” says executive producer Nigel Marchant. “He has that ability for you to empathize with him, but then he can also play very, very cold. You believe he could be an assassin that can kill people. So, we were thrilled he came on board. It's an iconic role. We've got an iconic actor for it.”

In the last decade, Redmayne has played a transgender pioneer in The Danish Girl, a genius diagnosed with motor neuron disease in The Theory of Everything (for which he won the best actor Oscar), a gentle and eccentric wizard in the Fantastic Beasts film franchise and a psychotic serial killer in the Netflix film The Good Nurse. What he hadn’t dabbled in, at least since 2012’s Birdsong (a 2012 BBC limited series available on Netflix), was series television.

“All of it was slightly new to me,” Redmayne says, speaking from his home in the U.K., “because I hadn't done TV for a good decade.” But Redmayne, who was educated at Eton and Cambridge, is a fast study. “In that time, I'd watched friends work in television and seen shows like Succession and The White Lotus and become a massive fan of this ‘golden age.’ So I was always curious a bout how the system worked.”

Back in 2023, three scripts entitled The Day of the Jackal, written by Ronan Bennett, arrived in his inbox. “I had massive trepidation because I admired the original movie, but when I started reading them, I loved the fact that they were modern," Redmayne says.

Producer Christopher Hall (Showtrial, Bloodlands) explains how the series differs from the movie: “We're making 10 episodes, so it's a much bigger, richer canvas. It's the Jackal’s backstory; it's his personal life. In the film, you didn’t know who the Jackal was, even to the last frame. He’s on a mission to carry out a single hit, to kill [French President Charles] de Gaulle, but the Jackal himself is always a mystery and a cipher. Obviously, we play into that, but we do answer some of those questions.”

Bennett — whose latest show, MobLand, is on Paramount+ — has a very particular view of the world, according to Hall. “When you talk about AI writing scripts, I don’t think AI could come up with Ronan Bennett. He’s an original and a one-off. Look at [crime drama] Top Boy. He has that piercing intelligence and a particular worldview that’s really interesting. If I were to encapsulate his worldview, it’s that everyone has both good and evil in them. The Jackal is ultimately a sociopathic killer, but there’s something that we warm to in him enormously.”

In this series, the Jackal echoes classic action heroes, and for Redmayne that was part of the appeal. “This is a genre that I love, you know? The Bournes, the Bonds and those ’70s thrillers like The Parallax View — but it was never necessarily a genre that I thought would come my way.”

He says his success in roles such as Stephen Hawking in The Theory of Everything had sidelined him from consideration as a gun-toting action hero. “Sometimes people go, ‘Oh, you’re the sort of actor that always transforms,’ and I really was never that actor. I just got cast as Stephen Hawking and had to play a real person, and suddenly it’s that cliché that after something successful you get sent more of the same thing. It was, ‘You’re the guy that plays real people.’”

Ironically, playing the Jackal required multiple transformations, personas and prosthetics — but it was undoubtedly a move away from introverts in tweed jackets. “I love that he’s a more physical character. He’s a peacock,” Redmayne says. "I love that every time you see him, he’s wearing something different, going somewhere different."

Playing the Jackal required Redmayne to portray several different roles: He speaks German as a janitor who roams silently through the 30-minute, wordless opening scene; he plays an urbane family man back in his Cadiz villa with his wife, Nuria (Úrsula Corberó, Money Heist, Snatch); he jousts and parries with Bianca Pullman, an MI5 operative played by Lashana Lynch (The Marvels, No Time to Die).

He also had another role on this production: executive producer. Being an exec on a TV show is often a trophy title, but Redmayne was a committed and passionate fan of the original story, and of English actor Edward Fox, who starred in the 1973 film. So if he was going to be an EP and the star, he wanted to do The Day of the Jackal justice.

“Control freakery,” is how Redmayne describes his character type, adding, “There’s a control freakery to the Jackal that perhaps bled into my producorial role.”

In film, the director is usually the control freak, the person in charge. But The Day of the Jackal runs 10 episodes with four different directors using different cinematographers and multiple noncontiguous locations. (A second season has been greenlit.)

"That was all new to me, and I wanted to understand how one found the continuity, or who was overseeing the whole thing," Redmayne recalls. “The answer was: There were tons of eyeballs on it, but it became clear that for Lashana and I, we were the continuity — we were the tissue between it all.”

According to Corberó, being that connective tissue meant a lot of hard work for Redmayne during the shoot. “I was a little bit worried about him, because he was carrying all the pressure. He was shooting every day, spending hours putting on all these prosthetics. It was hard work. I remember, at like 9 p.m., he was texting me asking, ‘Should we rewrite the scene for tomorrow?’ So we were having a lot of conversations.”

Corberó says Redmayne is demanding of himself and of other people. “But the craziest thing is that at the same time — maybe it’s because he’s British — he knows how to do it in an elegant way. He’s charming. And he fights for you. I know that I’m in this show because of him, because he was the one who insisted, ‘We need Úrsula for this.’ I will always be grateful to Eddie for that.”

Corberó’s role in the drama is a new one, but a vital one. As the Jackal’s wife, Nuria, she adds a home life, a backstory and a modicum of compassion to a character who in the book and film is just a stern-eyed shadow. “Nuria is the Jackal’s weakness,” she says. “It’s good for the viewers to see him being a very bad man, like super professional and dangerous, but then just being afraid of his wife. I think that’s what humanizes the Jackal.”

Humanizing the Jackal was the intention from the outset, Redmayne says. “The archetype of the empathy-less assassin whose blood runs cold couldn’t work in this version.” Television demands character depth. This new telling of the Jackal’s story offers explanations for why he is how he is. “We have him as a family man with a military background. Is he also sociopathic? I believe there was a juncture in his life from which point he has held those two things at the same time,” Redmayne says.

Part of the puzzle that Bennett’s scripts unlock is the Jackal’s logic of empathy. How does he square his love for his young child with the brutal demands of his job?

“He had assumed he would be alone all his life, and that’s how he was always going to function,” Redmayne says. “And yet when he meets Nuria and is floored by her charisma, you know that it’s an Achilles heel. When we meet him, he’s made a huge amount of money, he’s married with a child and he wants this to end. He’s lied to his wife from the word go but thinks he can wrap it up if this thing ends, so they can start a new life. And that’s his weakness as an assassin. We’ve been leaning into their love for each other and his love for his kid. That’s really important, and I hope that, again, what slightly differentiates the piece is that you’ll believe all that and you’ll care.”

The Day of the Jackal is executive-produced by writer Ronan Bennett along with Gareth Neame, Nigel Marchant, Sam Hoyle, Sue Naegle, Brian Kirk and Eddie Redmayne. The series is a production of Carnival Films, part of Universal International Studios, a division of Universal Studio Group.

*This article originally appeared in emmy Magazine, Issue #7, 2025, under the title: "Assassin's Lead."

[heathensimmer]

PicknMix's Roller Coaster

Link is here!

Incredibly evident that this mod was made with love and care. Warning: It is extremely tedious to build on a community lot. Read the instructions and the manual, everything.

PEOPLE YOU CAN RIDE ROLLER COASTERS IN THE SIMS 2

It moves fairly slow even on the downhill, but this must have been a BEAST to code. My absolute respect!

Also on a community lot, sometimes you have to reconnect the coaster and reset the NPCS that run the carts. I did it by buying a new loading track!

And ACR is going mad but this makes sense because its victims are the Bonnie and Clyde couple from Roaring Heights XD They're both Evil from Sims 3 traits

In the photo booth at the carnival? Really? I'm not one to judge, but I'm just glad there were no child Sims nearby because I think I have my game modded to allow children on some community lots and the Boardwalk is one of them. I had to restrict their ACR when I stopped screenshotting lollll also aren't they ROCKING their period CC?

Yeahhhh let's play skee-ball! They had that pre-1950 right? It's a modded dartboard and the darts are red balls! It's so cute

Bumper Cars from Echo's carnival Set! They will get on these and literally not stop until their hunger is almost gone. Cool nonetheless and I'm not mad since I only ever visit this lot for a couple Sim hours maybe more.

And Voeille's Water looks lovely :)

This game has so much capability it's insane! It looks gorgeous even now

[moominpapasfanficblog]

The Dread Moomin Pirates AU

The Moomin Pirates Arrive In Moominvalley

All throughout coastal Europe, the Moomin Pirates were universally feared. Even in the tiny village of Moominvalley in Moominland they were the frequent subject of gossip and storytelling. The Joxter, a Mumrik who was the head of the Mymble family and a pillar of the community, was always elaborating on his days with them in the group’s infancy. He would tell spellbinding stories of Moominpapa, Moominmama, Hodgkins, The Muddler and his wife and family and their ship, The Oshun Oxtra, and the beginning of their criminal career. His son, Snufkin, was his most eager audience.

It had taken the influence of The Mymble as The Joxter fell in love and married her to turn him into the well respected homebody and family man who he was now. Snufkin and his big sisters, Little My, and Mymble, were their only children and together they made a happy, harmonious family who got along with just about everyone in Moominvalley.

They lived in a large, rambling, three story house in the middle of the open field at the center of the village. The Joxter had built the house with little in the way of a coherent plan. He had kept adding areas to the house as inspiration struck him until his duties as a father had meant that he no longer had the time to add onto the house. It was thanks to The Mymble’s stabilizing influence on her husband that the house was well and solidly built and the rooms flowed smoothly from one to another and all of them were safe, comfortable, and useable. It had been called The Mymblehouse by the residents of Moominvalley and the name stuck.

Despite the fact that Moominvalley had nothing to attract pirates, Snufkin couldn’t stop dreaming of encountering the Moomin Pirates. He would spend a lot of his free time on the beach and had eagerly learned building skills from his father so that he could build a bathhouse with a boardwalk attached to it and a small boat that he and his father would take out for fishing on fair days. He did all of this so that he could look out beyond Moominvalley Bay to the open ocean, hoping to catch sight of The Oshun Oxtra.

On the very day of Snufkin’s fifteenth birthday in June one Summer in Moominvalley, the coast of the village was hit by a terrible storm. Naturally, everyone in the village took shelter from the storm in their homes as best they could. The Mymblehouse was the safest place to weather such a storm and a lot of the very smallest beasts who lived in Moominvalley’s forests took shelter there.

The next morning Snufkin and The Joxter went out with these beasts to inspect all the damage and make plans to restore their homes. Snufkin, of course, used the excuse to make directly for the beach to check on his bathhouse and boat. To his amazement, there was a ship about the size of a man of war trapped in the middle of the bay and nearly wrecked. It was highly technologically advanced, made entirely of metal, and had a prominent pilot’s house in the middle of the deck with two large smokestacks attached to it.

Snufkin was relieved to see that his boat was entirely intact, although the bathhouse and boardwalk were completely destroyed. Without hesitation, Snufkin swam out to the boat and rowed out to the ship. His eagerness gave him extraordinary courage and he made his way onto the deck of the ship and began looking for a way inside.

Before he could make much progress, the metal door of the pilot’s house opened wide and Snufkin found himself confronted with a male Moomin his own age who immediately looked at him with extreme hostility and drew a cutlass from the belt of his complete pirate outfit. Snufkin felt at a severe disadvantage in his peasant outfit and raincoat.

“Where are we?! Who are you?! How is The Oshun Oxtra?!”, asked the Moomin in rapid succession.

“Did you say The Oshun Oxtra?!”, said Snufkin, losing all of his fear and discomfort in his extreme excitement, “I’m sorry, but this is my biggest dream come true! I-I’m Snufkin and you’re in Moominvalley! We’re a tiny village with very little in the way of law enforcement, so you don’t have to worry, no one is going to try to arrest you or anything! If you’ll let me, I’ll introduce you to my father, The Joxter, who can undoubtedly help you with any repairs your ship may need!”

An adult Moomin wearing a pirate captain’s outfit and a top hat appeared behind the younger Moomin.

“Did you say The Joxter?! Put that sword away, Moomintroll! We’ve been extremely lucky and found ourselves in a friendly port after that storm!”, he said, “So, you’re his son, you said? How is he? How’s The Mymble? No, no don’t answer. There’s no time for that right now. We very gladly accept his….and your help! I’m Moominpapa, and this is my eldest son, Moomintroll! We’re both very glad and grateful to meet you, aren’t we?!”

“Yes, Papa.”, said Moomintroll, a little embarrassed by his earlier overreaction.

“Get in my boat, both of you, and I’ll take you back to the Mymblehouse and you can meet my mother….again, and the rest of my family! My father will return home any time now and you can make plans to rescue your ship!”, said Snufkin.

At that moment two Snorks, one male, and about twenty years old, the other female, and about fifteen years old, came out of the pilot’s house and emerged on the deck of the ship.

“How is everything, Papa?”, asked the male Snork.

“Most excellent, Snork! We’ve been rescued! We’ve found my old friend, The Joxter, and his family. They’re going to help us repair The Oshun Oxtra and get back out to sea! Report back to the rest of the crew and start inspecting the ship to find what needs to be fixed! We’ll be back soon!”, said Moominpapa.

“Yes, sir!”, said The Snork, who immediately turned back towards the hatch in the pilot’s house, taking the female Snork by her paw. She was looking intently at Snufkin, trying to assess him as they headed back below decks.

Snufkin helped Moominpapa and his son into his boat and rowed them back to shore with a wide, enthusiastic smile on his face. He couldn’t wait for what would happen next.

To Be Continued

[premamelody]

UTYSD MEGAPOST 💜💜💜🌼💛🌼💜💜💜

(tag for every post)

Undertale Yellow: Surviving Death is an AU in which after reaching the end of many Neutral Route runs, Clover gains a weird sort of sixth sense from repetition. This time when they escape to Flowey's subconscious, instead of proceeding and being seen by Flowey, Clover begins to hide through the many corpses, eventually ending onto a completely new area of the deep part of Flowey's mind.

They encounter strong embodiments of emotions, memories and thought processes, three of which through a representation of guilt join Clover on their journey.

Broken and barely holding together their appearance, Clover has to regain their courage to face Flowey again at 5 points of Flowey's own motivation guarded by a reason for such high concentration of determination.

(Google Doc)

THE GANG 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

CLOVER the main focus. After so many runs, they begin to settle in for Clover. While they don't exactly remember what happened, they have a sort of wary premonition of what happened and have an unexplainable urge to avoid certain actions. Matter of fact the AU is kicked off by Clover feeling wary to move forwards down the subconscious corridor and taking chances in the corpse wall. In their current state they are melancholy and never happy. They are constantly full of dread and hurt and have found it hard to feel remotely comfortable around the teammates they gain, but it's better to have some company than none.

DESRIEL is the figment of regret yet hope. They've been broken down over the years but still remain somewhat in tact, waning by each reset. He is a part of the subconscious that Flowey doesn't like to acknowledge which is convenient and the only way Clover was able to get out of being detected. He is often brash and outwardly rude, refusing to soften up or show any sort of "weakness". Deeply he knows he's screwd up big time and understands he's terrible and has come to do anything to try to at least stop himself, helping Clover on their journey. They're a good magic user, specializing in fire.

MEROYAH represents guilt, mostly survivors guilt. They resemble Chara intentionally, the outfit of mourning represent the never leaving stain of their death being "partially his fault". If he would've just fought back as Chara wanted, they wouldn't be dead. Yet despite it all, he "survived". His own existence angers them, tying themselves to a home resembling the old Dreemur House as an endless reminder, picking out golden flowers from their garden. They at first fight against Clover, though succumb to their own guilt and decides to join as a new assertive way to make things right. They're very adept at plant magic.

SNUG revolves around unimportance, chance. They're as others would see them, a mindless animal lab project nothing more for a test. Something to be not treated as a being, but purely off nature alone. They appear deep in the mind, one formed like a laboratory as an accidentally release, rampaging beast who after a while of chasing everyone, is confronted directly and weakened enough to fall back. They join the group saving them from Foxtrots (see Mind Beings) as the latest and last team member.

LOCATIONS

Each area in the subconscious appears different based on an amalgamation of thought processes and memories all accumulating in "zones". Each major zone hosts a Pillar of Determination, the goal of which to find all 5.

Zone 1 (Wasteland, Desert, Hollow Rundown, Sorrow Monolith, Passageway, The Tornado)

Zone 2 (Boardwalk, TBN Town, Deepthoughts, Gaze)

Zone 3 (TBN Forest, Home)

Zone 4

Zone 5

Zone 6 (???)

MIND BEINGS

Enemy Brigade

Hordacaton

R.O.O.T.S

Foxtrot

5 Guardians

Chamila

Fallabloom

Lillies

Faux

Clamity

Chimothra

Spboark

The Quizzard

MECHANICS

Fighting - Using all the Determination they have, Clover shapes their own battle system in order to be able to fight back similar to the original but with an added surprise first attack if possible.

Resting - When brain eep everything dark so party rests so they aren't spotted traveling

Running Out of Time - Each encounter creates commotion and noise, making it not too difficult to grab Flowey's attention. For every encounter there's is a timer that when it runs out, Clover will be apprehended regardless of what they're doing.

MISC

(color coded if only one of the 4 main characters are present, otherwise remains a neutral color)

Old Gang Concept

Desriel + Meroyah Doodle

Motive Curiosity Concepts

Clover & Team Relations

Dust Graveyard Idea

divide by zero

desriel & clover

Party Modern

cool doodl

deadpan

your facade is breaking, honey

meroyah & snug talkpost bc i dont like the word yap anymore

meroyah & chamila doodle

ghost sheriff + desriel expression concepts

zone 1 + momopter (chimothra) concept

more desriel expression concepts

meroyah expression concepts

neo meta flowey concept

meroyah terrible self image

meroyah hates desriel this is real

travel concept

utysd, in utpyrt?!?!?!

area 1 npcs redesign

plottingggg track names

townnnnnnnnerrr

another foxtrot design

hugg :(

meta flowey concept 2

feather dashing

memorials

battle ui concept

Playlist for NO reason 💥💥💥💥

help

Winddown BETA

Sprite glitch :[

??? BETA

sprite glitch fixed yayyyy

clover sprites

clover + desriel

gang minus snug bc snug is hard to sprite

STAND YOUR GROUND BETA

Boss 1 WIP

Winddown Rot

battle UI wip

A Midnight Dream (wip)

A Blip of a Thought (wip)

desriel singing

battle ui

Amnesia