#primal phantom

[redelliavalentinos]

Done! The tail was a challenge, lining it with the curves. But I'm really happy with it! I think I did okay on the ice. And if you look real closely, he's got some of the constellations behind him.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54480082/chapters/138018289

[trainerjoshie]

Pokémon TCG XY Flashfire (2014), Furious Fist (2014), Phantom Forces (2014), Primal Clash (2015) & Roaring Skies (2015) illustrations by Kanako Eo ⭐️

[the-black-manor]

I think if I was taking a walk in the woods and I came across someone on all fours pissing like a dog, a switch would flick in my head and I would end up pinning them to the forest floor to breed them and mark them with my piss and cum.

[miamipaaaalms]

some dota 2 heroes as cats (and kobold as a lil rat)

i tried to do some natural coat colors but not repeating exciting breed and real coat colors

[ecto-stone]

Better Call Vlad.

[tyr-ghost]

Some artist studies

- Genndy Tartarovsky's Primal

(+bonus Dexter's Lab)

- Stephen DeStefano's Unicorn Warriors Eternal

- Stephen Silver's art for Danny Phantom + a study of his characters from his "Art of Silver" art book

:^P

[maidot]

ppl in FB asking more ships v:

[heavenboy09]

Happy Birthday 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 To You

The Legendary & Most Influential American Actor In Both Television 📺  & Cinema 🎥  Starring In Countless Forms Of Entertainment. From TV Shows 📺,  Movies, Cartoons, Videogames & More

&

He's Everyone's Favorite Legendary Half-Demon 😈 Anti-Hero Of 2004

THE 1

& ONLY

MR. RON PERLMAN AKA  HELLBOY 😈🔴🔥 & OPTIMUS PRIMAL 🦍 OF TRANSFORMERS: RISE OF THE BEASTS

HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 MR. PERLMAN 😈🔴🔥

  #RonPerlman #BeautyandTheBeast #AlienRessurection #TeenTitans #DannyPhantom #HellBoy #SonsOfAnarchy #PacificRim #TransformersRiseOfTheBeasts #OptimusPrimal

[childhoodcreativity]

(c) brick + mortar

[stealingyourbones]

Throwing this to the winds along with some ox bones, with some marows and meat, steeped in broth and vegetables and aromatics - good soup...

Anyway I've seen some Jazz or Danny as Green lanterns, but what if the ring of rage is the OG? Like people know of it and wanted its power and poof - a ring with its power core functioning as that ring's heart.

I dunno if I wanted this to go the One Ring or Ring Primordial route, but either works to be honest. But it's pretty unaligned to the emotional and ultraviolet spectrums. I'm curious how will Oa react to this, as well as the different corps. Will they try to take it? Or try to...sway...the lone wielder?

gOOD SOUP!!! oh man this is SUCH a neat idea. I genuinely adore this. If i'm not mistaken, ultraviolet rings ARE a thing already? none the less, having the ring of rage being like the first crude creation of a power ring is a fascinating idea to tap into.

edit: fuck i misunderstood the last part. uH. Oa would probably NOT react to it well. it's an unknown threat and could possibly disrupt order and balance. They send out GL's to identify and collect data on this new entity/threat

[himbear]

Post your dog rn

FHUCKING ouppy

[redelliavalentinos]

Progress! I hate drawing ice. Usually I cheat by drawing an outline and just dropping a texture map in. I'm still gonna use a texture map, but I'm actually trying on the ice here.

Just wanted a proper portrait of my little ice imp/fairy?

[kokuycku]

He's munching on some raisins. It's not his usual choice of food, but he's on a time crunch.

[the-black-manor]

I love being so lost in bliss that I can't control my hips anymore.

Additionally, when sex devolves into desperate rutting. No words, just heavy breathing and the slapping of hips against hips.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Cult. [M]

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Raw Dogging, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Implied Unwanted Pregnancy, Power Imbalance, Big Dick! Ghost, Soft Dom! Ghost, Cult Leader! Ghost, Submissive (and Breedable)! Reader, Implied Abortion Attempt, Fem Reader, Profanity.

He’s filthy in the way he treats you, like a common whore, spreading you out over his desk – once-varnished mahogany, now bleached with weeks’ worth of spend, of tears, rubbed raw in places, the phantoms of many a night relentless under your leader – and bearing your body like it’s his god-given duty.

In essence, it is. Albeit, a god he created – fabricated – to lead lambs into a wolf’s den. And with the primal, savage way he forces himself into you, his tip pulsing and throbbing with the many hours he’s subjected you to, you can very well believe he is the very image of a predator.

“Won’t stop ‘til you’re full – ‘til it’s– fuck– ‘til it’s taken,” Simon pants, his shadow cloaking you, the sweat from his broad chest dripping down onto your sodden back. Your cheek is pressed into the desk, and in the corner of your vision, between the narrowed eyes you fight to keep open amidst the electric annihilation sparking between your legs, just below your stomach, you see him with bared teeth and dark eyes that glint with some unholy purpose. A purpose that only makes the feeling writhing inside you stronger, heavier.

With a deft hand – his other planted by your head, a cage – he finds your clit and presses it between two fingers as if it were the stub of a cigarette. He squeezes. Hard. 

Your lips quiver around him and a strangled moan escapes you, euphoria becoming you, possessing you as something had him. 

You keen on his hand, desperate for contact, for friction, despite him already filling you utterly and without mercy. Your arousal drips into his hand, pools in his palm. It takes all his will not to drink it then and there.

“I know, Doll–” ‘Doll’ – the name he’d given you, the name that reminds you you’re his to use as he pleases. His fingers squeeze your clit between them, a flesh vice. You’re gasping. He doesn’t stop, subjecting you to a pleasure so carnal you know only he can grant you it.

His free hand finds your shoulder, slips down your soaked back – a collage of brutal love-making, of animal rutting, of feral and incessant breeding – leaving goosebumps in its wake. He finds your rump, squeezes it, his hand flipping further between your legs until he finds your epicentre.

You’re so sensitive, and so swollen. He’s done this enough times to know that you’re red there, too.

He finds the spot where you’re connected, the modest sliver of his shaft that hasn’t been consumed by your wanting hole – where your combined arousal slithers out of you, dripping down his tightening ballsack – and plays at the edges of your lips, those that create a milky ring at the base of his cock, those that twitch with the almost overwhelming orchestra of sensations he is subjecting you to, playing you as his instrument.

Your hips twitch, pushing back against him, inadvertently impaling yourself on the inch or two he’d spared you from. 

He’s swollen – painfully so. Plugging you, preventing you from getting away. Something you realise all-too late as you try to pull away, to ease the searing ache in your lips, in your womb.

You’re crying, he’s grunting, throat raw with hours of praise, of nothing short of feral growling – curses to something other than his god.

You whine as he withdraws his hand from between your legs, instead coming to cup your breasts and pull you flush against his chest.  Squeezing around him again, the bulge of his cock inside you becomes ever more apparent when his hand slips up to your throat and he shunts you forward with his hips.

You’re weak – a ragdoll against him – and you’re pushed back down against the wood. He presses your stomach to the desk, your head now handing over the edge.

“D’you feel it, love?” he rasps. “Gonna give you a baby – put it right there.”

You do feel him, like an eel, slithering into any space he can, any space he hasn’t already occupied. You feel your heartbeat pulsing between your legs, and you feel his in the head of his dick, rabid. You want to sob, want the pleasure coursing through your every fibre to overwhelm you, to send you hurtling into a high nobody else can give you.

But you know this will have consequences.

You know there’s no morning after pill strong enough to overcome Simon’s seed, none strong enough to stand a chance against the sheer amount of his spend. You know this because you’re already pregnant.

You’d originally tried using a multitude of contraband substances – pills, medication, anything you could get your hands on – to stop the inevitable. To prolong it just long enough for you to find a way out of the hole you’d dug yourself into.

When Simon had found them – no doubt with the help of one of his disciples, one eager to please and who would settle for the simple pleasure of being the dirt beneath his boot – he made absolutely certain to undo all your hard work.

For days afterwards, when he gave his sermons, you had to stand, hands clasped in prayer, with his cum rolling down your thighs beneath your compound-issue garments.

 And despite how you know you don’t want this destiny he’s imparted upon you, you still urge your hips against his. Especially as you feel him twitching, your hole leaking and almost squealing with his semen and the memory of the many times he’s already pumped you full this same night. He’s ready to bust at any moment, ready to find and create any excuse to empty his load into you, his favourite disciple.

You finish first in a fit of euphoric fury, an outpouring of devotion, a static explosion that leaves you utterly spent and entirely limp, unable to move as Simon continues to pummell you, using you, not stopping until you hear him give nothing less than a guttural roar, throwing his head back as he empties every ounce of his spend into you.

Any chances of escaping, any hopes of the world beyond the company you’d embroiled yourself in – they’re all gone now. Knocked clean out your head and from your reach, your mind nothing but a post-haze. You feel full almost to the point of bursting, but your body settles for a ballooned discomfort in your middle. One which you know will only grow bigger and heavier over the coming months. And no doubt beyond that when Simon deems you capable – worthy – of bearing him more offspring.

Simon is panting behind you, hands planted either side of you, head hanging between heaving shoulders. As if he’s impregnated you with his very soul.

His hand slips across the desk down to your front, where he manages to levy his fingers between your exhausted form and the hard wood beneath. And, as if by divine intuition, he gives a hum. Presses a languid kiss to your exposed neck, uttering a “Well done, love.”

He’s going to be a father.

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AO3 Wattpad X

[the-gateway-to-madness]

Oh HECK yeah. I call this the Gravity Falls principle, just because GF is one of the best-known Slightly Off-Kilter towns (even though it's not even remotely close to the first or earliest example). Its Slightly Offness also goes both ways, slightly magical and slightly horrible, so it encapsulates this- vibe? trope? idk- super well. It's one of my favorite things in modern TV shows- when a town has the GF principle, when that weirdness has just always been built into the roots of the place, when the people there are part of the town and also the town has slowly leeched into the people. It's not portrayed as explicitly horror, really, but if you squint- or if you're an outsider who doesn't know how the locals live and adapt -the sense of normalcy that the human brain is designed to apply to anything it's used to, which the locals use to survive, will start to crumble.

I feel like Arcadia Oaks from Tales of Arcadia and Amity Park from Danny Phantom, if they existed in the same universe, would both be weird, but like, in opposite ends of the spectrum.

Like, Arcadia sits on top of a primordial hearthstone, the last one and also the biggest. Magic radiates throughout the town. Everyone who lives there is a little more in tune with nature. Everything and everyone is just a little too perfect. Everyone’s a little to pretty. They live a little too long. Their eyes sparkle with something more. Their streets are too clean and outsiders feel like they’re walking into a dream when they visit. It’s almost eerily enchanting.

Amity Park is on the opposite spectrum. Everything there is off. When comparing the two towns, people will notice a lot of similarities but they can’t quite put there finger on what makes Amity so off-putting. Everyone lives a little too long. Their eyes sparkle with something more. All of these qualities are shared between the two towns, but one is enchanting and the other is terrifying.

Either way, very few outsiders can stand to stay more than a few days.