#her armor fucks severely and I like to draw it

[puppyeared]

my brothers been playing elden ring recently and he let me draw his character ^_^

[anxiously-awaiting]

women <3

[bump1nthen1ght]

Lovers in Arms (Living Armor x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Fem!Knight x Living Armor (He/Him)

Genre:Fantasy, Established Relationship, Slight Exhibitionism

Warnings: None

Word Count:1507 words

Summary: As a famous knight, you’re quite used to receiving unwanted attention from others, romantic or not. Your partner, however, has found another way of coping with it.

Request: Hear me out a female knight x living Armor. Outside is very protective plate armor but the inside is a sticky, slimy mass of tendrils. When she is out fighting everything is normal but when she is talking with people and doing errands is when it starts to become hard to ignore. Doesn't help that the armor dirty talks and praises her while its fondling and screwing her. They both have a great relationship.

“I don’t like this man.”

“I’m aware.” You mumble under your breath, feeling the way Rust squirms and wriggles against your skin, a tell-tale sign of his annoyance. It’s a far cry from his usual movements, which have a way of syncing perfectly to your limbs, slipping right into the natural crevices. “But he’s willing to pay for this next campaign, so we gotta suck up a bit.”

You’d normally not speak so freely with Rust like this, but the man of discussion, some lord or something, is talking about himself so loudly you doubt he notices.

“I’ve heard much about your past battles, good knight! When I saw you would be leading this battalion, I knew I had to come and meet you.” You nod along, used to the simple back and forths of these sorts of conversations. You play the part, stroke their egos, and your knights and squires have full bellies and well-maintained equipment for the rest of their next mission. It’s embarrassing, but worth it. “I must say too, you are much more…beautiful than I expected, captain.”

You internalize a groan, your armor shuddering as Rust’s tentacles tense up.

This happens a lot too.

“I mean not to offend but when I first heard of your epic tales, I thought ‘surely someone so accomplished can’t also be attractive.’ And yet you-” The lord bites his lip in what he mist thinks is charming, “-have enchanted me.”

You muster your best flattered grin, despite the way your stomach sours.

“Thank you, my lord. I assure you the feeling is mu- hngh!” Blood nearly draws from thr forceful bite against your lip, a moan nearly clawing its way out of you mouth. The lord’s eyebrows shoot up. “E-excuse me. I think some of my old battle scars are-” another breathy sigh, your cheeks growing hot, “-acting up. I apologize.”

You don’t stay to hear the lord's worried questions and sympathies, instead running to your tent. You pass by drinking soldiers and courtiers, all celebrating your last victory. None spare a look at their serious captain, knowing how often you retreat your quarters. Surely to look over battle strategies and war routes, always the hard worker.

“F-fuck, Rust.” You pant, nearly collapsing once you reach your bed. The appendage currently circling your clit stops, your cunt aching from the lack of stimulation. “You have to stop doing that.”

“And why should I?” Rust's smug voice echoes in your helm. “Not like that buffon would’ve noticed. Pigheaded, ignorant fool, flirting with you-”

This was a common occurrence as well. Something about military success and captain’s armor has a way of drawing people’s attention, several nobles looking to leech off of the prestige of courting you. While you’ve perfected a method of deflection, seeming humble yet appreciative, Rust can’t help but seeth whenever they start sweet talking. His jealousy comes to a head, all the sass and the passion all bursting out like a broken dam. You’re usually able go escape somewhere private before it becomes too overwhelming, but there have been times you struggle to finish your sentence because of the tentacles fucking you like a piston, his low voice whispering laviscious that echoe in your ears.

“You’re an immaculate treasure, captain. They don’t deserve you.”

“I don’t know when you look more beautiful, on the battlefield or cumming on my tentacles.”

“Cum for me, Captain.”

You learn to give a grated smile, utter an excuse about your old injuries, and hobble away while cum runs down your legs in rivulets.

It can get a little frustrating, but in this moment, you can't say you hate the effect jealousy has on him.

“Forget about him.” You collapsed onto your bed, all thoughts of reprimanding Rust fading from mind. The only need at the forefront of your mind is lust, your body craving the taste of pleasure. “It’s just us now.”

If he could, Rust would surely be smirking.

“That's right. As it should be.” Rust’s voice rumbles all across your body, accompanied by the familiar slipping of his tentacles, all slotting into place. One slides right between your pussy lips, now slick, and resumes circling your clit. “Just you and I, together.”

Your head is thrown back in a moan, helm falling off and letting your hair lie loose. Rust’s inner body only extends to your chestplate, his voice now echoing off your collar and into your ear.

“Yes, pretty girl. Such pretty noises.” Two tentacles encircle your breasts, squeezing and fondling. “My gorgeous captain” The metal shakes with Rust’s purrs, plate joints rubbing against each other as all the tentacles move. “Hmm, I love the way this pussy tastes after a long battle.”

“Rust.” You whine, hand thrown over your face as a hot blush spreads up your neck.

“What? Its true.” A tip of a tentacle prods at your entrance, dancing around it like a tease. “The sweat that drips down between your thighs, your sweet juices…” That tapered tip slowly enters your whole, tabtalizinignly slow, “It’s addictive.”

A shaky sigh is muffled by your palm, your legs instinctively spreading wide as the tentacle stretches you open. Lines of ridges along the side scrape against your walls, sending shocking bolts across your stomach. Your free hand digs into your blankets.

“Divine.” Rust moans, two limbs pressing your breasts together as another slots in between them. The tentacle inside burns as it reaches its girthiest part, the tip now curled against your g-spot. “If those fools ever saw you like this, captain, they’d know how out of their league you are.”

“Aah!” Your hand becomes a fist and you bite down on your knuckles, Rust finally starting to thrust inside of you. In private he likes to take his sweet time setting the pace, unraveling you like a gift.

“I want you to sing for me, general.”

“Oh, fu-uck.” You draw out your vowels, back arching as the tentacles around your nipples twist even tighter. The ones deep in your pussy go frustratingly slow, drawing out to the tip before pressing you open again. “Rust.”

If your enemies could see you now; The fierce Captain of the Crimson Brigade, whose command brought countless victories for the crown, who never rested until the fight was one, begging like a common whore. Your voice all high and needy, so different from the gruff persona you put on when shouting orders.

On the battlefield, you and Rust are all business. Everything clicks, your two bodies moving in perfect synchronicity, throwing javelins and wielding a greatsword with ease. You’re the perfect pair; You bring the technique, he brings the strength, and together you can bring down titans. A force to be reckoned with, that bows to no one.

But it can be exhausting. All those decisions, life-changing decisions, are in your hands. You are the face of this operation, after all, and any missteps reflect on your leadership, no one else's.

So what's wrong with handing the reins over, every once in a while? Let someone set the pace, move your body for you. Let you be the obedient soldier, following the lead.

“Good girl.” Rust purse, and all those troubles from before melting away.

Your thighs fight to clench together as he begins fucking you faster, vision blurring as he hits your g-spot with precision. The merriment of celebration and drunken victory outside are loud enough to drown your wanton noises. Let them have their image of their general, let them have the person you pretend to be on the battlefield. These noises are for Rust, and only Rust.

“I’m getting close.” Your lips quiver, the skin nearly worn thin from your incessant biting. “Please, Rust.”

“How could I ever say no to you, Captain?” A second tentacle slips inside you, joining its twin and thrusting in you like a well-oiled machine. A gaso claws its way out of your throat, hips jumping from the burning stretch. “Especially when you ask so nicely.”

The tentacles twist together, writing against your walls. Your eyes roll back into your head as a buzzing sensation travels up from your core to your face, like you're starting to go numb.

“Oh, gods!” You cry out as the crescendo finally hits, pussy clenching the tentacles in a vice. All of Rust’s appendages shudder, a sultry groan echoing out of your collar.

The armor feels hot, almost too hot as you lay in the end, the high of climaxing slowly fading. Sweat drips down your entire body, loving tentacles lapping them up eagerly. Words still escape you, your thoughts a jumbled mess of sensations and emotions. You should really take a shower, shed Rust and clean him as well, but everything is sore, and your brain calls for sleep.

“Rest, my captain. We can bathe in the morning.”

Rust whispers, low tone only pulling you further into unconsciousness.

In the soft embrace of your lover, you can fall asleep peacefully. No thoughts of battles, or blood, or death. Just the two of you, as always.

[dreamcatcher92]

Chapter 3: The Date

Summary: Reader falls head over heels in love with her neighbor after a bad break-up. Will he also turn out to be her knight in shining armor as well?

Warnings: smut, language, sex, alcohol use. 18+ only!

You keep checking to see what time it is, but time seems to be moving at a snail's pace right now. It is making you frustrated because you are so anxious to go out with Billy tonight. Things are racing through your mind about how this will go.

Should you eat a little something before, so you don’t look like a pig when you eat? No, because what if it upsets your stomach? Should you bring up the relationship you just got out of? No, just no!

You have about an hour left to finish getting ready. You’ve shaved literally everywhere that was needed, brushed your teeth twice for good measure, and put just a dab of makeup on. You settled on wearing a dark red quarter sleeve tunic top, paired with black leggings, and chestnut brown knee high boots. Fall was drawing near, so you wanted to dress a bit warmer just in case. 

            Now, at quarter till seven, you sit on your couch anxiously waiting for Billy.

*Ding*

            Your phone goes off with a new text message. It’s Billy! Your heart skips a beat, and you quickly open the message. 

“On my way, see you soon.”

            AAHHHH!!! Now your heart is really pounding. You do your best to calm down so that you don’t act like an absolute idiot in front of Billy. You already really like him, and you’ve only just truly met. 

            A few minutes tick by and there is a knock at your door. You squeal like a little girl and jump to your feet. You run to the door, pause to take a deep breath and fluff your hair, then open the door. 

“Hi!” you say excitedly.

Billy chuckles and smiles at you, “Ready to go?”

Smiling from ear to ear, you turn to grab your sweater and purse then turn back to face the tall, dark haired, sexy man in your doorway, “I’m ready.”

          Billy takes your hand as you two make your way down the hall to the elevator. You have so many butterflies in your stomach. You just want things to go smoothly this evening. 

          Billy takes you to a nice restaurant and lets you choose a bottle of wine to share. Nobody has ever treated you like this before. You really didn’t know how to act, but you stayed calm and did your best. 

As you two eat your meals, you engage in a conversation about several different things. You laugh at all his jokes, and he smiles as he gazes deep into your eyes. Everything is going great. 

“You really have never been on a rollercoaster before?!” you ask as you giggle and take a sip of wine.

Billy shakes his head and laughs, “No! Never really wanted too either.”

“I guess I just assumed everyone has ridden one before at some point in their lives.” you laughingly say, but the laugh was cut short when out of the corner of your eye you see a familiar face and you suddenly feel sick.

The man is staring right at you and smiles a menacing grin at you. He takes a drink from his glass and then sits it on the table. After laying some cash onto the table, he gets up and starts walking towards your table. 

You feel a huge lump in your throat and start to freak out inside. What the fuck is he doing here?! Please dear God do not come over here! The man continues toward you but passes by without saying a word. You look and feel a small sense of relief. 

Billy sees the abrupt change of expressions on your face, “Something wrong?”

You snap back to reality, “What?! Uh, y-yeah! Everything is fine!”

Billy let it go for now, but he definitely was not going to let that go. Billy is a very protective person and does not like to be lied to. He learned from a young age that he needed to know everything and be in absolute control.

Billy motions to the waiter for the check, “How about we get outta here? My place for another drink?”

Your heart flutters and you smile, “Sounds great.”

The two of you arrive at Billy’s apartment and he begins fixing you both a drink. You’re over by the window looking out at the city skyline and staring up at the stars. You try to forget about who you saw back at the restaurant but are quickly reminded about it moments later as Billy walks over with drinks in his hands.

“So, you gonna tell me who you saw back there or am I gonna have to do my own investigating?” he says with a bit of sass in his voice as he hands you your cocktail.

You take a shaky breath in and decide to be open and honest with Billy, “It was my ex’s best friend Jake.”

“I’m assuming by the look on your face that wasn’t a good thing.”

“I don’t really know honestly. I don’t even know why he would have been there.”

 “He not from here?”

“New York, yes. The city, no.”

“So why are you worried? You think he’ll do something?”

“I don’t know. My ex is, well, not a good person.”

“How so?”

You hesitate to answer because you don’t want to ruin things with Billy. Tonight was amazing and you don’t want to fuck things up by bringing up your abusive and manipulative ex-boyfriend. However, you can tell Billy is not going to stop until he gets it out of you. So, you give. 

Taking a deep breath in, you begin, “Spencer, my ex, was very abusive in every aspect of the word. He controlled everything that I did and if I did something he didn’t like, he would hit me over and over. I loved him, but I couldn’t stay anymore. The day before I left him, he beat me so badly that I thought I was going to die. Both of my eyes were black, my lip was busted, and he cracked three of my ribs. I stayed with a friend until I saved up enough money for my own place and got a restraining order against Spencer. He was arrested but made bail days later. Nothing was ever done to him because they gave him two years of probation and called it a day. I’m so sorry that I come with so much baggage, and if you never want to see or talk to me again, I will completely understand. I know it’s a lot.”

You were crying at this point and felt so ashamed. You wanted to go hide and not come out. You’ve probably just ruined every chance of being with Billy after this.

Billy looks at you for a moment, then takes your drink and sets it on the coffee table. He turns back and wraps you in his arms. You wrap your arms around his waist and look up at him with tear filled eyes. He looks back at you, then without hesitation, he presses his soft lips against yours. His tongue massages yours and you hum with delight. After a few moments, he pulls away to look at you once more. 

“I’m not going anywhere sweetheart.”

[joenotexotic99]

The pleasure before the storm

masterlist

Five Hargreaves x f!reader

Warning: slight spoilers for season 3, smut, oral f!receiving, hand job male and female receiving, bathtub sex, riding, unprotected sex (rember it won't harm her to wear some armor,) cream pie, language, squirting, face riding, and of course fluff.

Lmk if I missed any :)

-Five and reader are both in there 20s-

Word count: 1.5K

-I am not responsible for what you read on the internet so please do not blame me for adult content-

A/n: I know this is not my regular Fandom however I ABSOLUTELY love the umbrella academy and there is a SEVERE lack of smut in this Fandom so I did a favor for all the whores for five out there and wrote this

Enjoy

<3

*I'm too lazy to write a whole ass backstory for this so just imagine that you and five got wrapped up with each other in the 60's and fell in love or some shit and just went with them to the future*

Everything was finally ok for the most part. Everyone was finally able to let out a sigh of relief, especially five. His entire life he never got the chance to feel a feeling that wasn't stress or worry or anger. He wasn't fighting or getting hurt. The only emotion he was enveloped in was his love for you.

God, you drove him mad. You were able to find that soft spot in him, so. fucking. quickly. And he loved it. He loved that no matter what he could come back from God knows where or when and be with you. To hold you, kiss you, fuck you.

Steam filled the room as you laid your head on five's chest, back to his front. You let the warm water of the bath relieve any tight mussels that were left. Five had rubbed your thigh up and down in a loving manner.

You were letting the warmth of the atmosphere slowly lull you to sleep when five's hand crept slowly up to your inner thigh. Your sleep was quickly replaced by a different warmth that was rapidly turning to heat.

"Five" you breathed. Praying that he won't stop.

He didn't reply, instead drawing his middle finger to the place you needed him most. Lazily rubbing your clit.

You squirmed due to the sensation but before you could do much, five moved his free arm around you keeping you in place.

He didn't say a word. He simply quickened his pace on your sensitive nub, keeping a strong hold on you. Making it so the only thing you could do was grip the bathtub and take it.

You moaned his name like a prayer. Over and over and over. A colorful array of language spewed out of your mouth. Head thrown back. The slight feeling of five creating a hickey on your neck. The feeling of your quickly building orgasm took over everything you simply need a little push just one. small. push.

You heard five say one word that tips you over the edge.

"Come"

And it was over. You squeezed the bathtub until your hands turned white. Letting pleasure wash over you.

Your senses came back as you laid to catch your breath. Five's arm that was around you moved to your side and prompted you to turn around. As you sat down in his lap facing him. Five stroked your cheek. And leaned in to kiss your lips. He pulled back, hand still resting on your cheek.

"You did so good for me my love" he stated. While pulling you back to another kiss with more fever this time.

You whined into the kiss wanting more. You reached down between your body's to stroke his already hard and leaking erection.

Five closed his eyes at the feeling of your soft hands around him. As much as he adored the feeling of your hand he wanted something else.

He moved his own hand down and stopped your movements. You looked up at him with the most desperate hungry eyes. Fuck, five could Cum from that look alone if he wanted to. Five gripped your sides and brought you closer, hovering right over his length. He put his mouth right up to your ear and whispered

"What are you waiting for? Ride me"

That's all it took for you as you sunk on to his dick. Both of your heads are thrown back at the action. Five kept his hand on your sides as you slid up then back down. You repeated the action until you set a fast rough pace. The burn in your thighs long forgotten due to the overwhelming sensation.

You sunk down as five pushed up to meet you halfway. Water splashed over the sides of the tub creating a puddle around it. The temperature of the room quickly rose as a layer of sweat started to form on both of you. The sound of your moans were music to his ears as you grounded down on him. God he never felt better. If he were to die he was a thousand percent sure that he would wake up to find that this was his heaven. And he would not complain one bit. The way your breasts bounced every time your body's slammed into each other. The way you would throw your head back and chant his name or tell him to not stop. He Wasn't completely sure if this was even real. Maybe he did die in the jump because this moment right here was fucking ethereal. The way you squeezed around him brought him back to reality. He knew you were about to come. And so was he. Your pace got more brutal until you stopped, letting your orgasm consume you. White spots clouding your vision. You felt so good. So fucking good. Five spilled into you letting out his own groan from his high.

The water was now cold making you shiver.

Five noticing the drop in temperature as well he sat up and spoke.

"here let's get you out and back to our room, huh?" Five asked as you tiredly nodded your head in approval. Five stood and picked you up bridal style. He set you down on a bench. He grabbed one of the towels you two left out prior to your bath. And wrapped in a round your shoulders. He soothingly rubbed your arms. You clung to the white towel as five stood up to fetch the other one. He wrapped it around his waist and walked over to the bath and leaned over to take out the plug letting it drain.

You stood up to remove the towel from around your shoulders and wrapped it around your front.

Five reached his hand out letting go you know to take it. You two walked hand in hand to your rooms miraculously without anyone noticing.

Five being the responsible one had the key with him and unlocked the room to find it pleasantly empty. You both walked in as the door closed behind you with the sound of a click signaling that it had locked.

Five turned around facing you and slowly walked forward until your back hit the door.

Five played with edge of the towel as he looked into your eyes

"You think you can take one more for me sweetheart?" Five asked

You nodded your head yes not trusting your voice.

"I need to hear you say it" Five stated

"God fuck, please" you whined

Five Immediately ripped the towel off your body and threw it to God knows where. He quickly dropped to his knees and skipped the teasing needing a taste of you. He grabbed your thighs and put them over his shoulders. Diving into your heat. His tongue licks up every square inch of your sweet sweet cunt. Eventually landing on your already overestimated clit. As his finger pushed into your sex. Pumping in and out fast. His tongue doing figure eights. He closed his eyes loving every second of this. You ran your fingers through his hair as you pushed his mouth closer, practically riding his face, chasing your high.

"Fuck five" you moaned out pulling on his hair making him moan into you.

The vibrations making scream from overstumulating pleasure. You couldn't care less about your neighbors. As you rode his face, the coil in your lower abdomen got thinner and thinner with every second until it snapped. A rush of heat ran through your body. Every nerve In your body was on fire. When you came down from your third high of the night you looked down to see five's face covered in your juice. You hadn't realized what you had done, to wrapped up In the moment. You weren't even sure you could squirt until now. Five stood up and looked at you.

You were scared of his reaction seeing as how you had never done that before. However a wide grin took over his face. He picked you up, legs wrapping around him as he walked over to bottom bunk of the bed. Setting you down. He pulled the towel off his body doing the same to his towel as yours. He was already hard again

He fell on top of you letting his hands catch him. He kissed you hard again again and again before he pulled away.

" I want you to do that again," five declared. Sex and want dripping from his voice.

"Do what?" You asked, making sure you were thinking the same thing as him.

"You know what" he whispered, lining up with your entrance and pushing, just to start a brutal pace of wonderful pleasure.

You were in for a long and fun night.

[lady-quen]

Character inspiration meme!

[tagged: not tagged, saw people doing this on dash again since I follow lots of roleplay blogs haha decided to do this for my only proper OC]

[tagging: @ambalambs , @hexenjagd , @cursedfortune , @rostomanologist , @commander-wame , @missbadafker (for any of your characters!), @lyhil , @harukehn (hii I like your plants... I am tagging you both if that's okay :) @scribesofcalamity I want! 👏 to know 👏 the cool inspos!!! Also I'd tag all the pretty plants in the fandom but I'm not sure who likes dash games ^^, so if you see this and feel like doing it, you're ON! Feel free to say I tagged you!]

Also you know I had to do it to him (choose this as his profile picture)

Anyway! Explanations go:

1 - Bloodborne - Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower - largely self-explanatory. I would have exchanged her for Genshin's Raiden Shogun for the more accurate "draws swords from own body" visual, BUT the fun part is I actually didn't know she did that. So the Baal sword and Mael's solid shadow weapons are a complete coincidence 💀

Furthermore, Lady Maria's general aesthetic influenced my own design a good deal. Sadly, necromancers can't wear medium armor.

2 - Hollow Knight - God of Gods/Shade Lord - just the vibes for his Shroud... or is it something more? :P I guess we shall see once I iron out some plot points. Some people might know because I rant in DMs. Devouring darkness my beloved. Inspiration for a potential "corrupted form" for a fractal where the story went really wrong.

3 - Norse Mythology - Fenrir - core inspiration. Chain/binding motif, being something dangerous, even to gods. Power that needs suppressing. Everlasting hunger, being the doomed being with the potential to doom others in return. A... specific relationship with the sun. A certain someone losing a hand within the mouth of the beast.

His swords are named Dromi and Lædingr after the first two chains that bound Fenrir. He's currently looking for a way to devise a "perfect spell" to allow complete control over his volatile magic and stop the demon essence from further warping his body and affecting his mind - that spell, or perhaps item, being Gleipnir.

4 - Tower of God - Khun Aguero Agnes - personality and mannerisms inspiration, particularly post-The Departing. "The Commander when he locks the fuck in." Devilishly intelligent and not afraid to utilize underhanded methods, but ultimately a good person. A true silver tongue. Moderately to severely grumpy at times. Dramatic flair. Gay boy rizz.

5 - Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress - Ikoma - the survivor. Undead but won't take the L and keeps on going no matter what. Self-engineered restraints to keep his affliction under control, dog motif, being willing to do terrible things to his own body simply to stop himself becoming a monster. A heart replaced by a core.

6 - Legend of Vox Machina - Percy de Rolo - I have actually not watched this show yet (I really damn need to) the visuals, the gunplay, the demonic possession and those deep black eyes with yellow irises? Checks out. I made Mael in 2014, so, again, coincidence, but it's a really good-looking coincidence :-)

Also, template below cut!

[invinciblerodent]

a short and very incomplete list of some items that make me, a bisexual, unable to pay attention to whatever the fuck the characters are saying

The Potent Robe (and all the other robes in this style) on Gale. they make his shoulders go V. especially from a shorter PC's angle, where he looks tall and broad in addition to being just. so warm and infinitely kind, I mean come on now. Honorable mention to the jewel sitting right on top of his sternum and the intricate linework leading to it that just draws the eye to itself, so you kinda have to look at his titties.

The silly stupid useless hats that should not look good on anyone, but make Astarion's li'l ears go < >, and it's unreasonably good, especially when he like. looks up from under the brim and under his lashes like that???? no. this man? this man is wearing a be-tassel'd bucket on his head. how is he still charming. this should not work and he has no right to be charming like this.

The otherwise pretty ugly helmets that do nothing special beyond like adding +1 to STR saves and don't work on anyone really, except they Fuck Severely on Wyll, and Wyll only. this one? with his horns? it makes him look like some sort of gladiator, a wrathful Roman god of war and conquest, and what the fuck. i know just how polite and respectful he is, and the cognitive dissonance alone makes this weirdly hot.

This camp outfit. With these piercings. And this snarl. On Karlach, because seriously what the hell. No, really. What is this. She, and I cannot stress this enough, looks like every single woman I've ever fallen briefly in desperate, heart-consuming, life-altering love with at any rock/metal show, only red and on fire, which is. also hot. Look at the way the lines of that top frame the glow of the engine, and the metal accents match her vents and hair disk thingies, I mean come on. This look is that of a woman who could (and should) whisk me away on her motorcycle.

Ketheric's armor on Lae'zel. The shape language. The way the ridges of the teeth and the gold bit in the middle kind of mirror the edges of her ears. And the way the dark neckline meets and bleeds into the lines on her neck, and mirrors the lines on her face. The tarnished gold accents that match her complexion with the green complementing it so nicely. The power. The beauty. What a great look. A+. i'm doing whatever she says I should, which is a problem because she's literally asking me to make a deal with a devil.

honestly just disrespectful, the lot of them

[bluestarjay]

Since I did a minor costume redesign for uraraka, I thought I would give my two cents towards yaoyorozu's costume. There have been sooo many redesigns over the past several years, and I never really paid attention to any of them. I don't really know how good mine is, but I think it's definitely better than her canon one.

In her og costume, quite literally, all of her vital organs are exposed??? So obviously, there are the notes in the drawing, but for some more detail, the armor is on hinges so it can be lifted up for more skin room, idk how accurate the armor is so apologies if that's not possible lol. She keeps a fucking shelf on her back with books that are literally going to fall off just in case she needs information in order to create something, but like,,,, that's fucking stupid so I gave her a smart watch instead, bc also, she can use it for communication as well as Google. Again, her bottoms are inspired by swimwear, bc that's honestly the closest you can get to superhero costumes. Idk how girlie can run in that belt ass skirt she wears so they're shorts instead.

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

23 for any combination of geraskefer please? 💖

23. Cold feet warming each other up under the blanket

Geralt is nearly back to camp, holding a werewolf’s severed head in each hand, when Jaskier’s shriek cuts through the stillness of the night. Dropping the heads to the ground, Geralt starts to draw his sword, only pausing when Jaskier shrieks again and he notices that the sound is entirely lacking in fear.

“How are your feet so fucking cold?” the bard whines. “Ye gods, is your icy heart spreading to other parts of your body now?”

There’s only one person who brings out such dramatics in Jaskier. Jaskier was alone at camp when Geralt left to hunt the werewolves, but Yennefer must have portaled in to join him at some point. Too pleased to be truly annoyed by the shrieking—though he can't count how many times he's told Jaskier not to start screaming unless there's actual danger—Geralt retrieves the dropped heads.

“Yes, that’s exactly it.” Yennefer’s voice is quieter, but still audible to Geralt’s witcher hearing. “It has nothing to do with the fact that it’s almost winter.”

“Stop pressing them against me!”

“You’re warm.”

“Yes, and I’d like to stay that way, thank you. Is this your plan to finally do me in? Will Geralt return to find me blue-lipped and silent, frozen to a block of ice?”

“He should be so lucky.”

With a snort, Geralt resumes his trudge towards camp.

“I offer you the warmth of my body,” Jaskier says with the gravity of Lebioda facing his final martyrdom. “And in return, I’m treated like… ack, Yennefer, are you well? I don’t think feet are supposed to get that cold.”

“And I don’t think anyone is supposed to get so annoying, and yet here you are.”

“It’s an art that I take—Yennefer, your hands are worse! How are your hands worse? What sorcery is this?”

“I don’t know what you’re whining about.” Yennefer sounds smug. “I’m comfortable.”

“Dreadful, horrible, blood-sucking…”

Geralt clears the trees and finds the two of them curled together on Geralt and Jaskier’s pushed-together bedrolls, cocooned in enough blankets to keep a small village warm, even though the night is mild for being past Saovine. Despite his protests, Jaskier has Yennefer wrapped up in his arms, doing little to hide how pleased he is. From the musky scent in the air, they’ve been busy while Geralt was gone.

“Geralt!” Jaskier looks up at Geralt with beseeching eyes. “Oh, thank the gods, my savior. Yennefer is freezing me to death with her horrid paws. I’m seconds from expiring of hypothermia.”

“Hm. From the way you were shrieking, I thought another werewolf got you.”

“At least werewolves are warm and fuzzy.”

“You’re fuzzy enough for both of us, bardling,” Yennefer grumbles.

“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

Geralt pats Roach’s neck—she, at least, is being quiet and well-behaved—and starts shucking off his armor. “Now you know how I feel all the times you decide to use me to warm your hands and feet, bard.”

Jaskier gasps. “But you have witcher body heat! Surely, you aren’t selfish enough to keep it to yourself.”

“I’ve been letting you use my body heat for twenty years, Jaskier. Doesn’t mean having your cold fucking feet against my legs feels good.”

Yennefer guffaws. “So you have cold feet and you snore, bardling. What a prize you are.”

“I do not snore!”

“You do,” Geralt and Yennefer say at the same time. To Yennefer, Geralt adds, “First time I shared a bedroll with him, I thought a grave hag had slipped into bed with me during the night when I woke up and felt his feet against my shins.”

“I can see how you could make that mistake,” she says.

Jaskier yowls in protest, wiggling away from her the best he can while wrapped from chin to toes in blankets. “Unhand me, you cold-hearted harpy! You can’t slander me and then use my body to warm the icy depths of your soul, you fiend.”

Shaking his head, Geralt slides onto the bedroll behind Jaskier, slipping under the blankets and putting his arm around Jaskier and Yennefer’s waists, pulling Jaskier flush against him. Jaskier gives a token grumble of protest, then melts back into him.

“Thank the gods,” Jaskier breathes. “Geralt, your witcher warmth saves the day again. Now I may not freeze to death during the night.”

“I’m going to portal you to an iceberg somewhere,” Yennefer says.

“I don’t think I’d notice the difference.”

“You both have fucking cold feet,” Geralt says. “Now go to sleep.”

He’s unsurprised to find four icy feet pressed against his shins and thighs.

“Hers are colder, right, Geralt?” Jaskier asks in a stage whisper.

“Maybe,” Geralt grumbles. “But she doesn’t snore.”

He drifts off to sleep to the familiar sound of Yennefer laughing while their bard squawks in outrage.

Twenty-four touches prompts

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome

[scratch-house]

i'm just a shot away from you.

sketch here and here.

hihi! long time no see! i'm gonna infodump about this piece down here.

so when i first started drawing, i focused really heavily on lineart. i was super into finding my "style" in terms of how i would stylize faces and bodies. my coloring style was kind of an afterthought and wasn't really in the place i wanted it to be, so this is me kind of experimenting and trying to go wild in that department.

i think the reason for my years long art block was perfectionism. specifically for digital art, i was very focused on making things pristine and clean looking. i mean that may or may not be obvious from my more recent pre hiatus art, i don't remember, but 😭 mentally that was the issue. i used to always like my sketches more than my lines, and at a certain point i was like, i may as well just have the lines be really sketchy and irregular and chunky or edgy in parts because i seem to be drawn to that, and clearly this precision thing isn't working out. i'd definitely attempted that at other points, but i hadn't really committed and was never really confident about it before now. i think ultimately i just had to reach enough of a 'fuck it' point before i could do it. it's a similar philosophy with the coloring and shading. i'm just letting all the textures and irregularities come through without worrying too much

the idea for the piece changed a LOT. like i started sketching and attempting to color this well before my art block, and i've only just finished it. initially, the doctor and the master were wearing their normal clothes and were holding daggers to one another while locked in an embrace, so the idea was like, the closer they get, the deadlier it is. for some reason i just couldn't get that to work? at some point i gave the doctor navy wings, so there was almost an angel of death thing going on (think the master asking her to kill him), but eventually i went for this! there's still kind of the erotic element with the master straddling the doctor and her Thrusting up, but now they are fencing, and the weapons are a little more front and center instead of hidden, as they were initially. i don't know how obvious it is, but what's happening is the master seemingly has the doctor pinned, both physically and with his rapier, but as she thrusts up, she actually moves his face closer to her blade. his hand on her elbow looks like it's part of the pin, but actually he's trying to stop himself from getting cut more. this thing of the master looking like he's winning, but the doctor actually holding the deadlier (though not necessarily better) position was very important to me, i don't know why. it was a feature of all of the sketches, although in the dagger sketches, there was an element of the doctor's blade being more hidden than the master's, ie in the embrace, the master (facing her) has an arm wrapped around the back of her neck with a blade at her throat, and she wraps her arms around him with a blade pointed directly at his back. you are going to have to figure out the symbolic intricacies of that yourself because i was just doing what felt right sjdjsdk

almost forgot: it's not just the positioning that sorta favors the doctor, it's also the fact that she is slightly more armored than the master. i don't know if you would call that armor, but let's go with that. her mask is pulled slightly more over her face than the master's, she wears her gloves and shoes while the master wears neither, and her rapier has a little cover that goes over her hand, while the master's just fans out. obviously they both have minor injuries, but the doctor also has some Ambiguous blood at her mouth. is it his? is it hers? i don't know. but she has blood in her mouth vibes when it comes to her interactions with the master so there u go

there's also an element of like, fencing is not supposed to get this crazy, so something has gotten severely out of hand here. but mostly i thought it looked cool.

if i could change anything about this, i would make it so that the doc's blade is pointing directly at the master's chin instead of having just grazed his lower face, with the master trying to lift his head away from the blade as he slides down, just so that the threat felt a little more.. i don't know, imminent? so that the strain is more pronounced? they're simultaneously being pulled toward one another (by gravity) and desperately trying to push away. i might've also fucked around with the text a little more because i'm realizing now that it could very easily be misread shjshdjs. but mostly i'm just glad that it's done and it looks cool. it's been YEARS and i finally feel like i'm back on my art feet. but don't hold me to that

[captain-mj]

Fruit and Cinnamon

Reread it while sober instead of high and fucking hated it, rewrote the whole thing sober, still not that happy with it, but hope you guys like this version better <3

Ghost stalked through silently the bar silently. His footsteps are quiet, but there was the faint sound of tinkling as his weapons bumped against each other. A soft sigh came from his mouth as he looked at all of the dead bodies. 

What a tragedy. 

Their bodies had been shredded. Not a single body had more than two limbs attached. Many looked like simple chunks of meat rather than an actual person. 

He stepped over them and continued on to look around. 

A radio was playing. Some heavy metal that he didn’t recognize. 

Out of the shadows, twisting and turning, body contorting in ways that would drive a human to madness, a woman emerged. She was wrapped in draping fabrics with blood dripping down it. Blood pulled around her. 

“Hello, Ghost.”

“Hello, Farah.” He responded, smiling. “How are you?”

There was a fire in her eyes. Literally. Slowly, it died back down and she looked very human. “You might want to change. Metal armor fell out of place about two hundreds years ago.”

Ghost frowned at her. “Seriously? You not suggesting the fabric you’re wearing…”

“Cotton t-shirt and cargo pants. The military uses them and they have many pockets!” Farah showed Ghost who found them… inadequate. Not the pockets. Pockets were fine. The fabric itself seemed inefficient. 

“What if a human gets stabbed on the battlefield?”

‘Weapons have changed. But we shall discuss it later. Alex plans to follow soon.” She stepped forward, leaving bloody footprints. “Need help?”

“No, I think I’ll stay in my ar-” 

Farah waved her hand and the clothes rippled and rolled into something more like what Farah herself was wearing. Ghost immediately felt displeased as he added a mask to it. “You’re welcome.” She called as she looked back, smiling. 

Ghost scoffed and stepped away from her to continue to investigate the bar. “What did the men do to make you so angry?”

Farah sighed. “The normal sins of human men.”

Ghost wasn’t sure what exactly they did, but he knew enough to know they deserved it. He touched the radio, recognizing the vague functions of it. “This is new.” 

Ghost hummed softly and closed his eyes to continue listening to the sound. It wasn’t his favorite, too chaotic sounding. Reminded him just a little too much of hell. 

He turned it off and looked at all the puddles of blood. Broken and destroyed bodies. 

One of them had a jacket on it with several patches. Ghost quickly ripped it off his body, ignoring when his arms detached and he had to pull them out. His new jacket was lovely. He stretched until his new human form popped and a shiver ran through him. 

Farah watched him as she fixed a drink. “Do you still only drink bourbon?”

“Scotch still tastes like dog piss.” Ghost caught the drink as she slid it over and lifted his mask to drink it. He rolled his shoulders. “Draw much attention to yourself?”

“Not that I could see. You?”

Ghost shook his head. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Nice to be out of Hell.” Farah commented. “Was so tired of the constant torture and the screaming and the blood. I mean it was good fun but the routine gets so boring.”

Ghost nodded in agreement and downed the rest of the shot. “Think I could get another drink?” He tilted his glass to show that it was empty. 

Farah laughed and teased him as she pretended to bartend, wiping the counter. “For my favorite customer? Yeah, sure.” She fixed him another drink. “I’m tired. Planning to find myself a place to sleep for a while. Then blend in. Go out and see things. Dance. Feel the sun. You?”

Ghost swirled his drink before downing it. “Fruit. Specifically a fig.”

“That’s it?” Farah smiled. “What about pleasures of the flesh? I remember you complaining quite a bit a decade ago about how hell doesn’t suit your taste.” There was a hint of teasing there. 

Ghost looked into the empty shot glass. “Nah. First, I’m going to eat a fig. Then a shower. Maybe not even in that order.”

“Simple man of simple pleasures I suppose.” Farah smiled. She sighed. “We should probably leave. We stay in the same place too long, trouble will come.”

“Always does. Alex coming around yet?”

“No. Got caught and sent back to the center. I’m planning on helping him along if I can.”

Ghost grinned. “Convince a cult to summon him. They’re easy to manipulate.”

Farah put all of the glasses away. “Not a bad idea. We’ll see where we end up.” She leaned over and put her hand on Ghost’s shoulder, watching him cringe before forcing himself to relax. His eyes flitted about, not meeting hers. “Keep in touch with me. Don’t get lost.”

Ghost nodded and watched her leave silently. He probably should ask questions. Get more information about this new world he found himself in. Instead, he finished off a bottle of bourbon. 

That was an awful idea. This new body he created didn’t exactly have an alcohol tolerance built up yet. 

As he walked around, he realized more and more that this whole body was… rather sensitive. Cold rain stuck to him instead of sliding off his metal armor like he was used to. The fabric on his body clung to him, only making it worse. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this cold. 

It made the hot water feel that much better. It took him a while to figure out how motels worked and rather than deal with the ordeal of booking one, he just broke in to one and disposed of the inhabitants. He stood in the hot water, luckily he understood how indoor plumbing works thanks to hell taking inspiration. The soap felt nice. The smell… delicious. Some form of vanilla. 

Ghost knew not to stay in one place. His very presence brought danger. Despite that, he still slept. The sheets were too inviting. Softness. Decadence. He couldn’t remember the last time fabric felt so nice against his skin. Hell was made of sherpa and rough rocks. 

When he woke up, he knew he had spent too much time there. Both by the way he fell well rested in a way that one could never properly achieve in hell, but also by his guest. 

A strange little scottish man with funny hair. He reminded him a tiny bit of the Vikings he met back in the day, but they wore braids in their hair and this man did not. 

Little mystery man raised his blade and held it out. “I suggest you leave this mortal plane quickly, demon.” 

Ghost felt a little insulted. Here he was, simply lounging in bed. Unknown to him, Johnny thought the bed looked like it had a bed bug infestation. It also clearly had whatever bedding came cheapest.

Ghost stood up, knowing just how imposing he was. This was not a random vessel that he was wearing, but instead the body he crafted himself to feel more comfortable in. He towered over this little human, going to a good 6’4 so he still looked human. His eyes and hands, the only features able to be seen, were all very carefully human. Yes, his nails were painted but for coolness, not for conspicuity. 

“No. Don’t think I will.”

Soap lifted his blade. 

Gazes met. 

Ghost’s eyes widened. Those eyes. 

He’d know those blue eyes anywhere. 

Soap?

Johnny tried to stab him and Ghost quickly stepped back. In his head, the music played. From the Baroque time period. A memory of a dance. 

They danced around each other. Blows going back and forth. 

Ghost hit him hard, watching him stumble in shock. As if he wasn’t prepared for Ghost to fight back. 

Ghost slashed at him. Viciously. How dare this man wear those eyes. 

Soap bared his teeth, both interlocked. Blow for blow. 

“I hope you rot in hell.”

Ghost lunged for him. “I plan on dragging you down there with me.”

Misstep. 

The blade went through him and Soap glimpsed what was behind the fleshy mask. A monster that wanted to devour him whole. 

He looked afraid. 

As Ghost felt himself tear apart, doomed to go straight back to hell to repeat it, he knew what he’d do. 

He’d find this man again and rip his eyes out. 

[luketaluketa]

i was organizing some files and found all the wip stuff from the previous secret samol for @/seamonsterart (go check out their work!), and these are two of my favorite illustrations ever, so here's some insight into how i made these!

for starters i already had a pretty much finished design for pickman that i had first drawn back in 2021

she has a completely wrong gun in this version because i did not remember how it was supposed to look like and couldn't find a description of it anywhere. she's wearing a hat because i forgot it was supposed to be a helm and so i ended up giving her the large hat just because the long horns coming through it are a fun image, though today i cannot imagine her wearing anything else. she already has the sword she takes from the lake skeletons, also. her armor is based on the armor the torumekian soldiers and kushana wear in nausicaa of the valley of the wind, with the incredible neck guard and long cape covering their entire body

i've always loved these designs and how the plates are evocative of insects, but also how mysterious they look with covered faces and bodies. matter of fact, at this point i had no fucking idea what pickman looked like below the cape.

the second inspiration is the young man from angel's egg.

OK, STAY WITH ME. i cannot explain this other that in my head pickman and him are VERY similar characters. the image of the half pulled cape while he holds his sword-cross-thing over his shoulder and the quiet demeanor are pretty fundamental to how i try to make pickman FEEL. i actually wanted her armor to have more piping, pulling from the biomechanical appearance of his sword-cross, but it didn't feel quite right

and the third inspiration is less inspiration and more reference work, the book "arms & armor, a pictorial archive" by carol grafton

it's a compilation of illustration works sourced from several books from the 19th century. VERY cool book to take a look at historical armor. it's on the internet archive for free!

there was also a fair ammount of looking at goats and sheep, but eventually i reached this after learning i suck at drawing furry designs. big shoutout to the furry community for making so many tutorials available btw. in highlight a very important study of the character.

now that i kinda knew what pickman looked like i entered the wonderful phase of "i don't know what the fuck i'm doing" which resulted in a bunch of bad doodles now sitting in a folder dubbed "dev hell". at this point i kinda had an idea for a relaxed scene based on one of the prompts, which i developed for a while on blender but eventually gave up on.

i then moved on to the second prompt, of pickman being badass. i decided on a low angle to make pickman look incredibly tall but the low angle of a goat's head legitimately kicked my ass so i eventually made a goat head on blender and used it to generate references with the help of designdoll. here i made her design a lot more muscular and fat, also, eventually coming to her final design.

the valve on her chestplate looks WRONG to me now, but at the time i was so tired i just rolled with it. the first pass of her armor was in a completely wrong color, which i corrected later on photoshop. i added the little metal forks pulling from her 2021 design, and the idea of little musical forks for atunning to the shape was cool to me. i also corrected her gun after actually learning what the fuck it was supposed to look like. i already knew i wanted her to be standing on the field of canola flowers, and the sky in the background was the last thing i added, also the time when i decided to really make the picture tall.

i liked the final result so much i went back and started working on the first prompt again. had a horrible time drawing the horns in the second image which led to this hell cage for building the perspective. im still not confident on the horns on the side of the head. i wanted to bring the atmosphere of a cold winter or fall morning in the second one, and to make pickman seem tired but relaxed. i overall like the second picture a lot more than the first and was very happy with how it came out.

AND THAT'S HOW THE SAUSAGE IS MADE I GUESS. if you read this whole thing then thank you for your time!

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 2/13/2024

writing cover letters like "Market Research Firm 953989464860, will YOU be my Valentine?"

also, a fallout 4 femslash fic for femslash feb

listening

Fresh Blood by the Eels off their 2009 album Hombre Loco. i would say this is another "i think a vampire probably wrote this low, grooving track" but there are several howls featured. wikipedia says it is about a werewolf. this song sounds like it has a simple bassline and simple drums but it knows what it's about. it's probably secretly really complicated but i specced in knowing about fabric, not about music.

it makes me want to ice skate really fast and also sounds like watching broken highway lane dividers go by late at night. fascinating that the back half of the four-plus minute song is fully instrumental. definitely a song for when you are traveling, or perhaps proceeding. spotify

Sun down on the sorry day By nightlights the children pray I know you're probably gettin' ready for bed Beautiful woman get out of my head I'm so tired of the same old crud Sweet baby I need fresh blood

i've been mainlining The Black Keys' album Brothers so it makes sense this popped up on my Discover Weekly spotify playlist

-

reading

in 2015, the year i dropped out of college, the closest comic/weird nerd shit store was a forty minute drive from my house. i bought the first issue of the serialized anthology comics magazine The Island bc i liked the Moebius-esque cover by Brandon Graham, before i knew who either of those artists were or that i liked them. i think it was ten bucks, and having to show my drivers' license really sticks in my brain for some reason. the point i am slowly approaching is that the magazine only ran for fifteen issues, and i didn't buy any other copies bc ten bucks a month was too dear for me, but it was a tremendous incubator for artists i would end up loving. about half the time i stumble across a lovely self-contained book that knocks my socks off i find out it started life in The Island.

All his life, Hank Cho wanted to join the ranks of the Habsec—the rulers of the orbital habitat his people call home. But when he finds a powerful, forbidden weapon from the deep past, a single moment of violence sets his life—and the brutal society of the habitat—into upheaval. Hunted by the cannibalistic Habsec and sheltered by former enemies, Cho finds himself caught within a civil war that threatens to destroy his world. A new barbarian sci-fi adventure by SIMON ROY (PROPHET, JAN'S ATOMIC HEART, Tiger Lung), originally serialized in ISLAND MAGAZINE.

Simon Roy's Habitat asks: do you want to hear a story about a generation ship gone wrong? this is a guy who really knows how to draw mechs and all their fiddly bits and loves doing it, which is a really transferrable skill to lovingly detailing the crumbling brutalist neo-mesoamerican architecture. the Habsec cannibals and their bits and pieces of scavenged armor blend in so well, it's genuinely shocking when we see someone in full, kept up, incredibly colorful armor. gorgeous, gorgeous book. love a fucked up generation ship.

found while perusing the stacks of the library that was closest to a bunch of other admin errands i was running, bc i finally have a tx drivers license and can start collecting tx library cards

-

watching

im also asking myself why the hell i'm watching yellowstone with my bestie and her husband. it has every trigger warning and a lot of them would make me decline the experience had i looked them up beforehand. however, the inevitablilty of each little tragedy feeding into the circular threshing maw that is the Dutton family is really clicking for me. like well! that mom sure did die in the most traumatizing way possible! and wow that really does go a long way toward explaining why the daughter is self-medicating to an alarming degree AND why no one else is doing anything about it bc they're all still mad at her for being very tangential to her mom's death!

the amount of Stuff that happens per episode is truly astonishing. one of my favorite parts of the ttrpg Beamsaber is the downtime between missions, bc you get to have some really bonkers interactions with people who don't usually interact. despite its huge cast, Yellowstone doesn't yet feel incoherent or like it's jumped the shark in its first season bc it's really successful at getting its huge cast to have unexpected interactions with each other. this sounds a little bit like praising it for knowing how to be good television, but this is a neowestern about a land grab that's also a familial dynasty drama that's really leaning into the familial dynasty part of it. it would be very easy for this to become incoherent or bad at switching between storylines, but so far it's really good at it. it's not beamsaber or black sails bc nothing will ever be beamsaber or black sails but it's really scratching that itch of many small rapidly shifting factions and rapidly shifting political goals bc each child is their own horrible little faction and they have a lot of time where they're trapped in cars or helicopters together getting around their ranch, which is simply too large.

we're trying to watch the yellowstone franchise in release order, and the yellowstone prequel with tim mcgraw came out between the first and second seasons. we will not be continuing this. this is a bog standard wagon train western. cripplingly boring after the brazen insanity of the first season. also i think it is in poor taste at best and irresponsible at worst to show a suicide on screen.

i said i don't know why i'm watching this but i do know why i'm watching yellowstone, and that's bc my bestie keeps seeing tiktoks about it. sometimes im influenced in real life

-

playing

changed my sheets this week and didn't chortle at the TOP OR BOTTOM tag which is how i know im having. a brain time. another way you can tell im having a brain time are these screenshots of the Breath of the Wild map. as you may or may not remember from last week, last week i had very little of the map filled out.

now is this EXPLORED? good heavens no. i have under 40 shrines DISCOVERED. i have simply beelined to each tower and went VERY fast. or was very sneaky. the three towers i have not bothered to climb yet are the ones i would have to actually fight some guys about. fuck the akkala tower for real.

i love to accidentally get way too close to dragons and die. some fun things about this run: incredibly, exceptionally rainy. except for the stint in the literal desert and the five minutes in the snowfield it has been raining about 70% of the time, which has made climbing very annoying. another fun thing about this run: exceptionally low ancient shaft drop rate, which makes getting ancient arrows to safely kill guardians from afar very difficult. bc as discussed above i have optimized this little blond boy to be very fast and very sneaky to get up the towers very quickly in the two minute spans of time it is not raining.

another fun thing about this run: not very good at successfully spitting out riders next to horses. you can only see the tip of spinch's hat bc he is underground.

i have unlocked the elephant and the falcon, i haven't gotten much farther than finding painkillers for the goron boss and stalled out at the yiga clan stealth mission. bc despite liking being a sneaky fast sniper out in the world, i fucking hate an enforced stealth mission. i don't think i ever got past this part in my other run either.

not jacked enough to unlock the master sword, i think you need twelve hearts? i would rather have more stamina so i can get faster horses + the princess's horse.

after i unlocked a bunch of towers i spent a goofy amount of time in the Lake Floria system herself hunting for treasure chests (there are easily fifty chests in the water. wild) to get the 10k rupees to unlock the last great fairy. i also spent several real-life hours video game mining video game ore. this was deeply annoying bc i sold off all my gems to get 10k rupees and then had nothing to get those sweet sweet high level upgrades with. this was the point on sunday night where i realized i was getting irrationally annoyed with a game that is supposed to be fun, and is NOT meant to support the kind of grinding i was doing. that was enough video game for one day thank you.

did you know there's a korok in the shrine of resurrection? me either.

also did you know magnesis ACTIVATES on the windmills in Hebra but i can't figure out how to get close enough to any of them to do anything about it. annoying.

this has got to be so funny from ganons point of view. i unlocked the elephant and the falcon in under a week of in-game time and then spent several in-game months mining and collecting clothes. would that make ganon more or less anxious d'you think

making

cross stitch update. this confetti in the rover square. i am dying. here’s what it will look like finished, and a link to buy the pattern

i had such high hopes for pin stitches as a thread finishing method but i had to rip out a mistake near a pin stitch and accidentally ripped out the entire pin and single confetti cross stitch. so what the fuck. i am an insane woman who likes to fully submerge and lightly hand wash projects before they get framed to remove all the oils (yes i wash my hands before stitching, i do get paranoid) and i am not confident pin stitches will hold up to that. oh well. the loop method is pretty great in halving the number of ends i have to weave in, even though i feel like it is extremely wasteful and leaves me with lots of short useless lengths my cats would love to eat. so the gains from halving thread management are really not offset by the meticulous cat management i must embark upon every time i do my fun relaxing hobby.

and the back, which is a horror. and will only become more of a horror. but once this is framed no one will actually see it so it's FINE. i am FINE with this. i started this knowing there was going to be lots of confetti. that's the point of this masochistic pattern

i wrote the first chapter of this fic last summer and outlined the emotional beats (but not much else) while procrastinating moving and have finally lightly polished the first chapter and threw it on the archive. im trying to let things molder less and just fucking post them in the hopes this activates the writing part of my brain again but who could say what's going on up there. this is still something that hasn't quite returned to me post-covid round 2

this will eventually be an E-rated 5+1 fic fixing all the fucking bullshit around Cait Fallout4's companion quest. she will NOT go in the magic chair that tortures her into not being a junkie and being the perfect waifu. she is going to stumble backwards and accidentally into some harm reduction and get railed by a mean top. the mean top and the harm reduction won't fix her but they certainly won't hurt.

[in-her-shadow-if]

Ok but fairly angsty ask??? That validates my feelings lmao. So, what if MC was born sickly on top of it all? Like they were easy to fall sick with colds, ferver and stuff... there was a fragility to their build, if you pushed them they would break etc etc... reactions of the ROs. Cherry on top pretty please if guin being guin and daddy dearest only make her condition worsen :)) would the ROS be protective???

The ROs would be protective in their own way.

I'll-fight-these-fools kind of protective mixed with waiting on MC hand and foot to comfort them: Arthur, Lancelot

Death glare to Guin / Bran while plotting revenge: Merlin, Kay

Resisting the urge to set Bran on fire mixed with comforting MC and taking them away: Morgana

Reactions (warning: some assume touch is okay, reaction would vary for MC otherwise, also: fire):

Arthur - He notices the exhaustion in your eyes after Guinevere left "MC? Are you unwell?" A soft hum from your lips tells him yes. His own body was heating up from annoyance at your sister. But he didn't notice as he gently scoops you up and into his arms. "Let's get you to the bed, love. And then I'll grab you favorite pillows and a glass of water." Arthur glanced down at you. "And that book you love - I'll read it until you fall asleep." And then I'll find Guinevere and give her a taste of her own medicine, he thought.

Lancelot - "Hey! Time for you to leave," Lance growls as he steps in to shield you from your father. Bran glares at the Knight. "How dare you talk to a King like that!" Lancelot chuckles and takes step forward, his chest touching Bran's. "I dare much more than talking, Your Majesty. I suggest you leave before I do something you regret" he responds. The King sputters, unable to respond before giving you an annoyed look over Lancelot's shoulder and turning to leave. Lance turn to look at you. His face softens. "Want some fresh air in the garden?" You nod and he wraps a gentle arm around you shoulder, pulling you close so you can rest your weight on him. Fuck, I hate that guy, Lance thinks.

Morgana - You sigh at the feelings coming over you while your father talks. All things you've heard so often. You wish he'd leave Camelot so you could be in peace. Well, partial peace considering Guin's presence. "Dammit, are you listening to me, MC?" You meet your father's eyes but before you can respond he lets out a yelp and starts jumping around. Your eyes widen and you stumble back, bumping into something soft. "Help! I'm on fire!" Bran swats his arm sleeve as he struggles to get his robe off. You hear a soft giggle and look to your side. "How peculiar!" Morgana says. "You don't see that everyday, do you?" She winks at you before turning back to watching the flailing Bran.

Kay - Your eyes search for a way out. You're trapped with Guinevere and its already brining on a headache from her entitled demands. Guinevere grabs your sleeve, drawing your attention. "Listen when I talk to you," she says, annoyance flashing in her eyes. Her grip is broken by a lady Knight in shining armor. Kay glares at Guinevere, a look so severe that you shiver. "MC is needed elsewhere. I've come to retrieve them." Your sister rolls her eyes. "Whatever," she says before turning away. Kay turns to you with a bright smile. "Shall we?" You follow her out of the room, noticing how she glances at Guin on the way out with a balled up fist. The day will come.., Kay thinks to herself.

Merlin - Guinevere opens her mouth to continue but both of you turn to look as a portal opens and Merlin steps out, tossing an aggravated look at her. Xe stops in front of her and huffs. "Your grating voice carries to the tower. Don't look so surprised, I told you this the first day you arrived in Camelot. How can I get work down with you in the same building?" Guinevere lets out a small shriek. "You can't talk to me like that! I'm the QUEEN." Merlin rolls xir eyes and turns to you, a small smile tugging at xir lips. "See what I have to put up with it? It's insufferable." Xe turns back to Guin. "And I won't tolerate it. Sleep with an eye open." With that, Merlin guides you out of the room with a barely contained smile and sparkling eyes.

[most-creature-vibe-tournament]

Round 3 poll 3

Propaganda:

Arthur Lester (Malevolent)

Eye horror but yellow

More arthur lester propaganda: he should be dead. He should be dead ten times over and he isn't. What the fuck is he. This is not plot armor btw an eldritch entity openly speculates about it

actual cannibal arthur lester

okay I’m putting this into the comments so I can represent my horrible little podcast man. C!Quackity ate Schlatt’s heart but Arthur ate a whole guy. And also assorted pieces of other guys. And he had a horrible time with it. They are both cannibalism baddies but Arthur is fundamentally changed because of it. C!Quackity had a bad ex Arthur had a losing-and-finding-humanity-again experience and was pulled back from the brink by the god-thing in his head. Creature!!

#I love alex quackity as much as anyone but Arthur has straight up eaten a guy#yes yes Schlatt’s heart and all but Arthur went after the whole guy. also it was horrible and traumatic#and it started a whole thing of Arthur seemingly becoming less human while the god-thing in his head become more human#so. not to pit two cannibalism baddies against each other. but quackity is a businessman first and arthur has never looked put-together a#single day in his life. that man is a Creature

Arthur lester propaganda (spoilers): he crawled through tunnels and smashed an old woman's head in with a rock. He seems to other people to talk to himself. Often about murder. He whimpers pathetically several times per episode. He ate a dead human's raw corpse and only felt bad about it because it also hurt his friend. He chopped a man's arm off. He's such a deranged little creature.

Malevolent is the story of a dude fighting the instinct to become a creature and (so far) losing. So much so that the eldritch being in his head is going "woah dude, chill out". I think he wins easy

Pearlescentmoon (Hermitcraft)

A lot of people draw her as a moth!

#ok I gotta step in here#Pearl is a fuckin creature of all creature#shes an alien a moth a literal goddess a 4am bloodthirsty fighter and queen of the deep frost#you can look up clips of her making the most creature noises as her default noises#she is the most creature

im sorry pearl is one billion percent creature

#PEARL SWEEP#im sorry that is a 36 year old man#she is an alien. otherworldly being

#let's be honest here#especially at s9 she just makes the most creature of noises#Gem claims she's an alien#like sure people can turn grian to a god/watcher but that doesn't necessarily mean creachure#so vote pearl

[fluff-writing]

Legends of the Necromancer: Rathma came in the mail today :D

Initial thoughts (and Spoilers);

Linarian is a total sweetheart, and kinda dumb. Or just really naive. Bro really tried to resurrect his Best Friend in a Spooky Cave where they used to mess around with the Powers of Life and Death, left her there when it didn't work, and was surprised when that went awry a few years down the line. They also draw him really doe-eyed every time there's a closeup of his face. Cutie. It's an interesting contrast from the whole No-Emotion-Super-Serious Rathma we're familiar with.

Lilith's massacre really was brutal. The drawings of her fuck severely.

There's a Citadel! Where all the angels & demons & their kids lived together on Sanctuary. Mayhaps a location we'll visit down the line? Or perhaps that was what became the Cradle/Kasama in D4.

Apparently Linarian has always had visions of the future, and its pretty much always been a shit-show.

Kessime (Linarian's wife) is sweet. Don't really see much of her before she gets offed, but what we do see is very domestic. She and Linarian love and care each other. (I think they might bone in this book. Good for them!)

It's a little weird how much long-violent-tongue their is in this book. Once is fun but twice is brow-raising. (It is not a long book. 40 pages maybe. There did not need to be two instances of tongue-violence.)

They also took Linarian's shirt off twice. Nice.

Linarian being a farmer is cute but. I dunno. We already got that from Uldyssian and Mendeln, he coulda been a baker or something else fun and quaint. The least they coulda done was show him reaping wheat with a proper sickle, but nah.

At least we know Rathma knows his way around a shovel.

They mention but don't show kids + grandkids. Bummer.

The action scenes were interesting, and I enjoyed that when he's mowing the undead down he gives everyone a choice to either depart or come with him for sweet revenge. Commander of the Dead indeed.

We start to see Rathma's set armor from D3, a fun little nod there. Linarian seems to be able to conjure it from the aether. Or maybe he's borrowing it from the dead bodies around him? I dunno, either way it seems really convenient.

I like that Indira is more or less what we'd get if Rathma used his powers for evil and stuff. They are nice enough foils for each other, and I'd like to see more of her.

...This book is basically Linarian kinda fucking up and losing all the women in his life (Lilith, Indira, Kessime), which is a little. Hm. Don't love that, don't hate it.

We only get a little bit of Trag, but what we do get is very pretty.

There is. No Inarius in this book. Not that there needs to be, but personally I think that's a missed opportunity. Rathma was murdered by his father, they coulda added something between them here.