#if I need to tag anything else lmk-

[stories-of-the-multiverse]

"So, here's the house I used to live in, and there's the tobacco store. They're like one mile apart, right? The average mortal can walk five miles per hour, right? So why is it taking my mom seven years to come back from the tobacco store for cigarettes-"

Charlie-

[weepingalaxy]

if jeremy and michael knew each other, don't you think the bites would feel rather similar?

[jays-supersonic-dynamo]

self-care is making evil jay edits a la homophobic dog

[800db-cloud]

spare some spy hcs? 👀

OKAY. ok. so i have been putting off answering this ask because i’m admittedly very shy and very afraid of sharing my headcanons. and also because i have A LOT OF THEM.. but here we are!

here are my headcanon spies :) René works for RED and Jacques works for BLU!

where to start, where to start… i have a LOT of headcanons for them, i’ll be talking for FOREVER here. i’ll just start with story because why not! xP

René’s parents were also agents/spies, so he was always destined to be one as well. And he lives up to his parents’ legacies! He’s most notorious for destroying gangs and mobs and the like from the outside in. He was brought to America years ago to take out a dangerous mob boss, but unfortunately found himself infatuated (and involved) with the boss’ daughter. Luckily for him, the boss’ daughter wanted the guy dead, too.

René’s story is honestly a lot more fleshed out than Jacques’, but here goes anyway:

Jacques’ father was a very rich and powerful man in politics. Jacques himself was the result of an affair, and to keep it hush-hush, his father decided to raise him. Raise is a strong word, though— but he did help his father gain intelligence and blackmail on opposing political parties. Jacques proved to be a promising spy since childhood.

If anyone has any suggestions/ideas for Jacques’ story, let me know haha x) he didn’t have the greatest upbringing per se…

last thing on this section i wanna talk about is the Scouts. René is related to both of the Scouts; he’s RED Scout (Jeremy)’s biological father, and he’s BLU Scout (James)’ adoptive/step-father. Jacques has no relation to either scout, but acts as a guardian figure to BLU Scout.

anyway, this is the part where i continue talking about other miscellaneous headcanons! and these come with doodles :)

You couldn’t catch René DEAD without his mask, or his suit! He’d neeever take them off around other people (‘other people’ is mainly just Scout. For obvious reasons.) Meanwhile, Jacques is pretty lenient in letting his teammates see his face! Everyone on BLU’s seen his face at least once.

A big part of why René refuses to strip down is also due to the fact he has a LOT of tattoos. No doodle for this one because I’ve yet to decide on what tattoos to put on him (ideas are very welcome!!), but yeah! Most of the tattoos were ‘forced’ onto him/he had to get for jobs and ‘fitting in’ with bad crowds, but a good few of them were of his own accord, too.

Jacques doesn’t have tattoos, but he has a myriad of another thing: scars! Lots and lots of scars on this guy. Faded and old, sure, but they’re there. Most prominent ones are the one around his neck (from when the RED Medic beheaded him) and the ones on his forearms (those are from the LAST time he was imprisoned— looong story…)

René doesn’t cook very often for his team, but when he does, everyone’s always BLOWN AWAY by this guy’s cooking! René’s really bad at taking compliments, though— (“Cooking food that’s remotely edible isn’t a compliment, it’s basic survival.”) —but rest assured he’ll be thinking about it for the next month. Jacques, however… Do NOT let this guy into the kitchen. Ever. The BLU base has a special fire extinguisher “In Case Spy Decides To Turn On The Stove”

oooh, this one is an hc and a HALF to me. René much prefers working alone. It’s just in his nature, being isolated and whatnot. He likes to deal with things by himself– maybe he doesn’t want to burden others? On the contrary, Jacques NEVER works alone. It’s a trait he’s had even before being hired to BLU. You never know when things could go wrong, so it’s best to have someone else to fall back to… or someone else you can blame!

these hcs both have something to do with how René and Jacques show their trust in other people :) it’s a bit convoluted but it gets there:

René is, amusingly, very bad at remembering names. Almost laughably bad. There have been many-a-story of his days before RED where he’d get a target’s name wrong, even after he’d repeated it in his head dozens of times over. Names are difficult for him, so if he remembers yours, it means you mean a lot to him! He prefers using his teammates’ names rather than their titles. René is unaware of how charming this specifc trait is to his coworkers (they saw how much work and effort it took for him to memorize their names, they’re just happy with how far he’s come!)

Jacques has a… to put simply, very complicated relationship with food. But the one thing he’ll never turn down is sweets. His favorites especially being chocolate bonbons. Jacques has a hard time eating in front of others, let alone sharing his food! But if he genuinely likes and trusts you enough, he’d have half the mind to share with you. Admittedly, he hasn’t brought himself to share with most of the members of his team yet, except for a select few. Mostly BLU Medic and BLU Sniper.

—

and of course, eventually, EVENTUALLY, these two also become friends! it took a little bit but believe me, they both respect each other’s skill in their job :)

AHHg i could go sooo much longer about them— from things like their physical traits (how much teeth they have? it’s a pressing question) or different periods of their life (why did rené have to leave his family? why was jacques imprisoned for the last time?) BUT this post is so… so, so long. My fingers hurt from typing

If you’ve managed to read through this Beast, THANK YOU RAAHH!!! thanks so much for asking this, too. i hope to spare more hcs someday. hehe ^_^

[cj-the-random-artist]

Let us dance into the night as the fire rages on....

Gonna add a greyscale version, the sketch this was based on under the cut, but all I really have to say about this is that this is the first time in a long time. Maybe even years. That I've sketched up a simple doodle and had it grab me by the soul and rip and illustration out of me. This is also the first illustration in a long time where I enjoyed the whole process. I also tried different techniques and stuff here and I'm in love with how this turned out actually

But yeah greyscale version and sketch this was based on under the cut

I was gonna add some rambles down here about the way I think about Narinder and the Lamb's dynamic and the stuff going on in the background and other things but after spending like an hour and a half writing and rewriting this caption. Uh. Nevermind lol

Enjoy the chaos that is this drawing and, if you're reading this, may something good happen for you today

[antoine-dcoolette]

You guys still fw t4t buntoine right

[shepscapades]

This one was a freaking doozy. If I keep talking i think i may be in trouble

[gloucester-carousel]

it doesnt mean anything.

artfight attack for @barrenclan!

[emry-stars-art]

Okay listen. When I decided to give squid Jean (squean) bite marks/scars last year I was just making it make sense that he lived with a pod of orcas who thought it was super fun to scare him and threaten him, I didn’t know tsc would come out and make that detail somehow 100x worse

Someone get this kid to Whalemack and Abby stat :( thank you Renee

Find the mer aus masterpost here

[snacobie]

ummmmm.hi take this pinup

[taranzas-biggest-fan]

Day 3 - Gashes

strong start. on the 3rd day of october. something something spiders a carnivore

[stories-of-the-multiverse]

((Starter fore @remnantsouls ))

Charlie winced when of course, she felt no pulse from the body she was checking. Poor guy bled out before she could get to them...

She sighed as she stood, holding onto herself.

Alright, don't give up now, Charlie. The moment you do, whatever survivor there is is done for for sure!

She jogged forward, eyes briefly scanning the bodies as she passed.

There has to be someone, someone she could help. Someone she could give at least another year!

Someone that-!

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw an inky black trail among the crimson. And she felt her blood go ice cold.

An unfortunate truth was, an average of ten percent of victims of these genocides were Hellborn. Those that could not afford to live in the other Rings, or even in Hellborn only settlements like Imp City. Either the Exorcists couldn't tell the difference, or didn't care. Perhaps a mixture of both.

Demons are demons, after all...

And it looks like she might find another example of this statistic...

Uneasily, she followed the trail into the alley...

"... Oh my god...!"

Another fun bit about the Exterminations? Most Exorcists were notorious for playing with their food. Not just in chasing their targets, but finding increasingly cruel ways to end their lives.

And taking literally an arm and a leg from them...?!

Charlie rushed to the incubus's side, hurriedly checking his pulse.

Still alive...!

"Ca-Can you hear me?! I- H-Hold on-!"

She took out the kit she was carrying, bandages and guaze being snatched up as she hoped the empathic link with her goat bois would bring them here.

She started with the shoulder, putting the gauze over the bloody socket and hurriedly winding the bandage over it while being careful maneuvering his remaining arm out of the way.

If it weren't for the threat of the blood loss, she would have cleaned the wound first. Infections were a bitch down here. But right now she had to do something about the bleeding.

She hoped her hands were steadier than she felt...

[zorosdimples]

MORE, PLEASE, ALWAYS, FOREVER

pairing ༄ simeon x gn!reader

warnings ༄ minors: please do not interact! i will block you. suggestive content, religious/sacrilegious imagery, corruption, manipulation, dubious consent, drugging. simeon calls reader “little one” and “darling.” please let me know if i’m missing anything!

word count ༄ 771

notes ༄ this is my first time posting my writing, so please be kind! this drabble is darker than what i usually write; i’ve just been thinking about simeon and corruption for months… i have fluffier pieces in the works, i promise! <3

“but s-simeon,” you whispered, afraid to raise your voice lest desire drip from each syllable—as if the angel couldn’t see your trembling thighs or the glint of hunger in your gaze. your skin glowed, he observed, all dewy with want; he had never seen anything so beautiful, so vulnerable. your chest heaved as though you couldn’t catch your breath. “you’re an angel.”

“yes?” he hummed, trying not to sound too eager—all while his blood sang for you.

your tongue wetly floundered for a response, brain unable to comprehend anything other than the fierce fire that licked at your very core. oh, if he did not relish your sputtering, dumb state. you hung onto his every word as if he would lead you to salvation.

that’s what angels were created for, right?

“angels, humans, demons—we all have more in common than you think. we all have similar urges, similar needs,” simeon stated, lithe fingers traveling down your sides to dig into the soft flesh of your hips, forcing a breathy sigh from your lips. shame would have eaten you alive had it not been for your desperation.

“but you humans are rather self-centered, no?” he asked with an experimental squeeze that had your eyes fluttering dreamily. “you assume that your corrupted moral compass applies to the other two realms.”

you shivered as simeon leaned so close that you could smell the sweetness—caramel?—that clung to his skin. his lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “angels, as god’s chosen creatures, are encouraged to love deeply.” his fingertips grazed your belly as you swallowed thickly. his hot breath melted your resolve while his thinly-veiled words had your nerves thrumming in anticipation.

patience was a virtue that simeon usually embodied, but the thrill you inspired within him was cracking his restraint. he couldn’t help but push: push himself, push you. he needed to hear you to say it.

he gently cradled your chin between his thumb and forefinger, angling your face to meet his expectant gaze. if you had been in the right state of mind, perhaps you would have noticed how his azure irises were unusually dark, pools of midnight you could drown in.

the smile that tugged at his lips was almost wicked as he probed, “what do you need, little one? tell me.”

the endearment fell on deaf ears as you leaned into simeon’s grasp like a simpering pet. your eyes flickered down to his lips instead of answering his question, biting down on your own almost hard enough to draw blood.

“ah ah,” he chided, pinching your chin, still a hair’s breadth from your face.

you looked like a wounded animal for a moment, eyes wide and shimmering, staring down the barrel of a hunter’s gun. you tried to wriggle from his grasp in embarrassment.

the angel’s grip was unyielding, though. he was certain there would be bruises on your tender flesh come morning—the thought only heightened his arousal. his honeyed chuckle, like a potent sedative, lulled your movements.

“as much as i appreciate your enthusiasm,” simeon said with featherlight strokes to your burning cheek, “i need you to use your words, darling.”

you whimpered in response. your brain was fried, incapable of intelligent thought. all you could do was feel and act—instinct usurping rationale—more animal than human. all you could muster was a breathy and pathetic “please,” punctuated by the unshed tears that sparkled in your eyes.

“please what?” he cooed with faux sympathy. his free hand skimmed down the slope of your shoulder and the curve of your arm to ultimately settle on the fat of your thigh. the movement caused a tremor to ricochet through your body.

he looked at you like he wanted to devour you, to pick your bones clean, to consume you so wholly that not even your soul remained. and maybe it should have frightened you. but all you wanted was to lay yourself bare and let the angel feast on you until there was nothing left.

“i need you, simeon,” you finally breathed, soft as a prayer.

as soon as the words left your bruised lips, he lifted you onto his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist. you exhaled a warbled moan when he dipped down to scrape his teeth against the column of your throat. “that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” he murmured into your skin.

you were too far gone to answer—not that simeon cared. he finally had you where he wanted you, writhing and whining prettily. he made a mental note to thank solomon for the spell that had his little human begging for more, please, always, forever.

[thylacid]

needed to take a break from everything to draw a cute girl ^_^

[dinoserious]

ichor, and the fated end

[southern--downpour]

WIRED