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#a bit sketch-like but i somewhat finished it!
turtle-ika · 1 year
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Don helping Raph fix Mrs. Morrison’s gas heater and the plot twist is that i don’t know how to draw a gas heater... or a body in a crouching position
based on this short fic i read a few days ago: Sanctuary by RealityBreakGirl ( @aquietwritingcorner )
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forcedhesitation · 1 month
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*wheeze* slowly, but surely, working on art of them all
#bg3#myart#wip#I want to make every tav/companion pairing I have a dedicated. fancy piece.#these started with a concept for a wyll drawing that was very...storybook! inspired.#I would have been done all the linework for these two pieces by now had my weekend gone better :/#I was violently unwell for...about a week and a half? chronic illness bullshit. had started to feel better friday of last week...#...unfortunately fate had it that the weekend ended up being particularly stressful. so the pain returned anew.#it was. somewhat better today. but still not enough for me to really be productive in my free time :(#I will try to complete the linework tomorrow if all goes well. I really would like to start colouring them!#I have delightful colour schemes chosen...#gale/illamin piece has already been sketched in a notebook. once I finish these two- I will begin lining theirs!#illamin's connects to cadence's because they're intertwined like that. but I have yet to finish planning out cadence's piece.#I've gone back and forth on who I should romance with him...the thing with any of the companions is that they are all written to be-#-immensely compatible with each other. so writing a tav FOR a specific companion is a bit hard. often the tav could fit with any of them.#hell. I'm STILL working out details of jantar and corydalis' story & characters. because I can't be normal about this.#that aside- I DO have other. finished pieces...finally.#well. I had some long before... but I didn't want to post them because I wasn't happy with them.#so I went and finished new stuff that I DO like.#4. technically 5 drawings. all horror/horror adjacent in theme.#my extremely detailed hux painting is also NEARLY done. after months upon months of work.#and I continue to slowly chip away at the big scifi themed dbd piece I've had in progress.#I really never run out of things to draw and it's a bit torturous because I never have the time or energy to draw everything...
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franeridan · 1 year
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was watching a process video of an artist i really like trying a style he doesn't usually go for and he's usually got this very flowy, free style but for this one he was doing lineart and he was obviously struggling with it and said something like he really doesn't know how people can comfortably work with solid lineart and that genuinely shocked me into stopping the video and looking at nothing for a little while ngl
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charmandabear · 23 days
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11. Astarion x Reader 👀
We're not going to worry about how long it'll take me to answer these. We're not going to talk about it. Listen, I'm trying so hard to not make these into whole things, I just want to treat them like writing exercises, but I physically can't not finish smut once it's started.
From @astarionfreak's smut ask game ~ other entries
11. "I touched myself last night thinking about you." "I know."
Tags/Warnings: reader isn't gendered but has a vulva, blood/blood drinking, p in v sex, somewhat rough sex (reader gets a little feral in this one)
You're not subtle about it at all.
Every time he catches you staring, you quickly turn your head. At one point you even just shift your eyes, trying to pretend you're looking at something behind him. But there's no way he isn't at least a little suspicious.
Since the night you let Astarion bite you, the tension between the two of you has been palpable. Something about having him pressed down on top of you, his lips on your neck and his hand cradling your neck in a way that was disproportionately gentle set something on fire inside you. You really thought that you could just get over your little crush if you got it out of your system. Sate the need and you could go back to just being friends... Or whatever you are with him.
But it had the opposite effect. Now, his very presence turns you on. The wind catches his scent and you instinctively press your thighs together. He grins after making some sassy remark to Gale, and the glint of his fangs in the light makes your mouth go dry. You even need to suppress a moan when he gets a particularly impressive kill. You really hope no one heard that one.
So now, sitting around the campfire with the rest of your companions, you're just trying desperately to appear normal. You laugh absentmindedly at whatever joke Karlach just made while in your mind, Astarion's railing you up against a tree. It's only when you realize that Wyll has been trying to ask you a question for the past 90 seconds that you know you're too far gone to be in polite company.
"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it, long day," you make the excuse lamely. "I'm going to turn in a little early, I've got a bit of a headache."
"Do you want something for it?" Shadowheart asks with a frown. "I've got some herbal remedies that might help."
"I'm fine, I think I just need some rest." You force a smile onto your face. "'Night, all." You walk back to your tent stiffly, speeding up to cover the last few meters quickly. Your breath wracks through your body and your blood pounds in your ears. You've never - never - gotten this worked up over another person, never mind a man. Honestly, he's not even really your usual type, you'd normally be much more likely to pursue someone like Shadowheart. But she so clearly has a thing for Karlach, and that's not something you'd want to get in the way of.
But this pale, devastatingly handsome vampire elf has your desire in a chokehold.
You light a lantern inside your tent and take out your journal to sketch. You try to conjure some of the imagery you saw today to keep your brain off Astarion. Scratch and the owlbear cub playing. The terrifying harpies that almost lured one of the tiefling children. Astarion's blade dripping with harpy blood while his bright red eyes sparkle with mischief and the thrill of he kill.
Fucking hells.
You eventually put your journal away and lay down on your bedroll, staring at the ceiling of your tent while the others continue to chat and laugh outside. You listen to their conversation die down, their goodnights, and finally the distant sound of crickets and other nighttime fauna. Your eyes start to grow heavy, or at the very least bored of looking at the support rods in your tent.
You only realize that you've drifted to sleep when you're startled awake by a soft tapping on the canvas flap that separates you from the rest of camp.
"Y-yes?" Your voice is shakier than you'd like, although it's not like a vicious creature would politely knock on your makeshift door. The flap lifts up to reveal the literal last person you'd like to see right now.
"Hello, darling," Astarion grins in that irresistible way that he does. "I wanted to check in on our fearless leader. You've seemed dreadfully jumpy all day."
"Oh! Um." You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. "I'm.. fine. Thank you, Astarion." You nod your head in a gesture of dismissal, but he doesn't move.
"Are you sure? You're positively flushed." His smile suggests he knows more than he's letting on. You chew on your lower lip to distract you from the growing ache between your legs.
"I'm perfectly fine, Astarion, thank you. Good night." You reach to close the tent flap but he holds onto it. Your fingers brush against his and it's like a jolt of lightning passes between your hands.
"I'm not buying it," he hums, dropping his voice. He pushes his way into your tent and you scramble backwards. The last thing you need is for him to touch you - you might not be able to control yourself if he does. "Now tell me, what's had you so hot and bothered all day?"
"N-nothing," you stammer, wishing you could just disappear on the spot. He raises an eyebrow and you backpedal. "Well, fine, I think something Gale cooked isn't sitting quite right with me. I was... embarrassed." The lie rings hollow even to you.
"Come now, love, we both know you're a terrible liar." He crawls towards you on his knees, a predator stalking his prey. Your breath catches in your throat. "Do you have something you need to confess?"
You're trapped. You've run out of room in the tent to back away, and Astarion has all but crawled on top of you. His scent is intoxicating and his eyes gleam in the low light. The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.
"I touched myself last night thinking about you."
"I know." The grin that curls across his face is fiendish. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.
"You know?" Then you gasp suddenly. "The tadpole..."
Astarion lets out a bark of a laugh, loud enough that you're worried it might wake your other companions. "Darling, I didn't need a tadpole to figure that one out. Like I said, you're a terrible liar." He nudges his knee closer to the apex of your legs and you can feel your arousal making your underclothes wet. "What I want to know is, how did you picture me? My head between your legs? Did I have you on all fours in the forest? Or..." His lips ghost against yours now and your head feels dizzy with lust. "Or perhaps I had you pinned down in this very tent, taking my time as I had my way with you?"
Your instincts take over and you close the minimal distance between you, pulling him down on top of you as you ravage his lips. You claw at his clothing, no longer interested in maintaining decorum. He tears at the laces of your breeches, pulling them down below your hips and exposing your dripping cunt to the open air. A cry rips through your throat as he licks a thick stripe up your slit, and his chuckle rumbles deep in his chest. He pulls up on his knees and grins down at you, open and wanton, as he slips out of his pants.
"So very eager," he hums as he frees his cock, engorged and already dripping. A shudder runs through you as you see it, and you yank on his shirt and pull him down to meet you. You kiss him roughly, catching his lower lip in your teeth as you hook your leg around his waist.
"Shut the fuck up and fuck me, Astarion," you hiss through gritted teeth, and you groan loudly when he easily sinks in up to his base.
"Someone wants the whole of camp to hear," he growls in your ear as he begins to slowly thrust into you.
"Then you better make it quick so we don't wake them," you snarl in response, all pretenses having vanished. You tangle your fingers into his hair and press his face to your neck. You feel his lips stretch into a smile just before he sinks his fangs into you, the icy shard of pain melting into the heat of his mouth warming with your blood.
You jut your hips up into him, desperately chasing your release as he drinks his fill. He fucks into you, hard and messy, and before long you're feeling the pressure building in your core.
"Gods, Astarion, don't stop," you gasp hungrily in his ear, and he increases his pace to a punishing rhythm. You're starting to grow faint from blood loss just as your orgasm comes crashing down on you. Your walls clench and shudder around his length and he tears his mouth away from your neck, his expression wild and bloody. A few more broken ruts and you can feel him spilling inside you, the feeling his pulsing cock prolonging your own climax.
The two of you eventually still, covered in a sheen of sweat and panting heavily. Your ears strain to hear if there has been any disturbance in camp to indicate that your other companions heard anything. Outside your tent remains, thankfully, silent.
"Well then," Astarion exhales quickly as he slides out of you. "Darling, if it's going to be like that, then you just need to invite me next time."
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galacticsuperstitions · 2 months
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the minds of a lab at three different points (LONG rambling under the cut)
I am constantly in awe of the analyses people put out about Arknights on this website. I feel like my own interpretations are somewhat lacking as a result, but I was confident enough to post this, at least. I've had this idea for a long time now, I think since Lone Trail released, but I've only been able to make the time for it now.
Rhine Lab has so many fucked up elements and people involved in it that it's actually impressive. They were really gunning for "most unethical scientific consortium" reward. Really, though, it's just the result of Kristen gunning for her parents' wishes. All of the directors want something and all of those somethings are different.
Things I want to mention or just feel proud of (allowing myself this because of how long this took):
-I was originally planning on crossing out Saria's surname to reflect that we still don't know what it is in canon, but I don't know why whoever has this poster would do that, so I just kept it in. Hermon refers to Mount Hermon, which Saria's name apparently derives from. Technically, her name here is the same thing twice. Oh well.
-I don't know who this poster belongs to. It's just in some Rhine Lab tech's personal desk, I guess? Doesn't explain the doodles, though. Maybe they were bored and feeling spiteful about the potential job insecurity of your boss being comatose in space.
-I realized only while making this post that I made Saria's, Muelsyse's, and Jara's doodles reference Kristen, yet Kristen's only references herself and her parents. Completely unintentional, but appropriate nonetheless.
-I am so happy with how the poster came out. It makes up for how hard I had to fight Canva for it to come out like that. Here it is in full if you want to look at it closely for whatever reason. (writing an actual description for this thing was fun!)
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-Andenate doesn't actually have a face under the sticky note. That's why he's still Mike Wazowski'd in the poster png. I didn't feel like drawing one since it wouldn't be shown in the finished pieces anyway. His jacket is just the same as Magallan's.
-Ifrit's picture board was a literal last-minute addition. It's why the images are sketches rather than being in the lineless style of the poster. It feels fitting, though, so I'm keeping it that way. Seeing Ifrit all grown up and doing so well in Lone Trail was wonderful. There's something in her being happy and healthy and also surrounded by not just her loved ones and friends from Rhine Lab, but also people outside of it. She's cultivated her life to be as fulfilling as she wants it to be, and while there is still room to grow, she has plenty of support and insight from others for it to do so. I may be misrepresenting her a bit (the sleepiness doesn't help), but man. I love Ifrit. She's so cool.
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g-xix · 10 months
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Pub golf Forfeit // ArthurTV
🙏 xLoving mr ATV eternally 🙏 Content: kinda fluffy ig, extra-long 5k+ wordcount CWs: Alcohol
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‼️READ THIS IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT PUB GOLF IS‼️ (if you do, skip this bold writing and move onto the main story)
Pub golf is a game where you visit a set amount of pubs and get different drinks at each one- and you need to try and finish these drinks without having to lower it, as many times as possible. 
TheBurntChip has used this concept with Harry W2S, ReevHD, Theo Baker, ArthurTV, ChrisMD, George Clarkey, and more- and that is what this oneshot is based around.
KEY TERMS: "Hole" -> the name of the pub. e.g. Hole 3 is the third pub that's been visited "Par" -> Number of sips/gulps it took to finish the drink Forfeit -> self explanatory but whenever the rules are breached/smth bad happens, a forfeit card is pulled and needs to be done. 
Reminder to always drink responsibly as per usual, only drink when you're legally allowed to do so and stay safe when going drinking.
-----------------------------------
"ArthurTV and Maddie!"
I turned to look across the line, my eyes meeting Arthur's.
It was my first time doing a pub golf on the TheBurntChip channel and I was somewhat terrified. Sure, I'd known all the other boys ranging from years to just a few months- but I'd grown just as close with George Clarkey, who I had only met a few months ago, to Harry, who I'd known for years, having first met him when big brother Chris and Harry filmed their football videos together.
But one thing that all of the boys knew for certain, was that I had developed a little online crush on ArthurTV. Of all of Chris' friends, I'd never had the pleasure of meeting Mr TV in real life until that moment, when Harry had let it slip to Freezy who'd let it slip to Chip that I liked Arthur... thus Chip DMed an invite to for a pub golf video alongside Harry, Reev, Chris, George Clarkey, Theo Baker, and of course, Arthur.
Oh and as if it wasn't bad enough, Chris, my very own half-brother, knew I had a crush on Arthur.
"That's quite a interesting pairing isn't it, Maddie?" Chris snickered from the side with a grin I knew meant that he was going to have the time of his life teasing me for the next few hours. 
"Bit of a coincidence if you ask me, Chrissy." Harry sneered from besides Chris, making my insides churn.
I wasn't so much a YouTuber as the rest of the boys- I was originally Chris's one and only member of the camera crew and production. In that small bedroom in Jersey, Chris and I would sit together on a desk and make lists of ideas for football challenges, ways to execute them, different shots to make the video dramatic... Then, we would hit the pitches and try to film without the older boys telling us to bugger off so they could play on the pitches.
Then, people started noticing the voice behind the camera, leading to me making a BROTHER VS SISTER  video for the channel, which was only the start of coming in front of the camera more. As Chris hired professional camera men and got set production budgets from serious producers, I was pushed more in front of the camera, making videos with Harry and Chris before lurching into the British YouTube scene, initially gravitating towards the e-boys content, before relocating moreso to reaction content with George Clarkey and Cam Kirkham. 
And we don't talk about that Stephen Tries sketch I attempted.
The fans were pleased with my occasional cameos in videos on the British YouTube channels, always finding new ship names for whoever I collaborated with, or new clips to edit, or rumours to spread... but overall, I couldn't be happier with where I've ended up. 
Well, not where I'd ended up whilst filmed pub golf- right in the middle of Chris and Harry's teasing. 
"How's it a coincidence?" Arthur asked, wide brown eyes swivelling between Harry, Chris and I like a deer caught in headlights.
"Oh, just because I said I uhm..." I started. Shit, quickly Maddie, think of something quickly... My thoughts began racing. Of course Chris would begin hinting towards the fact I had a crush on Arthur not even five minutes into the recording."Chris pointed out on the way here that us two were the only ones that have never collaborated together before... Like, you know... on a video..."
Yes he knows you meant on a video, genius. Great, you sound as thick as a brick now. 
"Oh yeah, that is true actually," Arthur realised, his face lighting up as the thought seemed to land in his head. He was so expressive with his voice- like an animated Pixar character, seemingly straight out of the movie. His voice was so calm, and slightly husky, and somehow matched his face perfectly. "You should come onto the channel if you like watching those 90 day fiancée type of programmes-"
"Arthur's playing the 9 minute fiancée game right now, by the looks of it-" George giggled, nudging me from behind which only made my cheeks burn red, Arthur simply laughing it off before responding.
"Is it working though, Maddie?" Arthur flashed a grin with a quick wink, myself pretending to fall into George's arms and fan myself with my hands, jokefully pretending I was falling for it. 
The real joke was that I wasn't just pretending to fall for it.
Arthur's biggest asset were those fucking eyes. They had me melting with how wide and doe-like they were- his eyes seeming to light up whenever he started a topic that interested him. 
"You're not chatting her up are you, Arthur?" Reev raised his brow and crossed his arms to ask. Out of all of the boys, Reev was the most like a brother in the fact he was so protective- always trying to make sure I was safe. The others were more like brothers in the fact they'd just tease me and get under my skin at every opportunity. 
I watched as Arthur's eyes widened, as he assumed Reev was trying to intimidate him.
"Give him a break, Reev, he's just having a laugh," I defended Arthur, not letting him respond to the allegation in fear that Arthur would shake his head or say that he really wasn't interested in me. That could wait until a few more holes, when I was too peppered to care.
"Well, listen to this you two, for your couples outfit, you two will be going as... The prisoner and the policeman...! or woman!" Chip exclaimed, throwing the outfits to us. 
I looked a the policewoman outfit he had handed to me- the costume coming with a short skirt, unscrupulous tie and lopsided police hat.
This was gonna be a long video...
...
"Hole one, the rule on his hole is that you must drink it with your left hand!"
Hole one was easy. Arthur sent his pint down in one and after Harry and Reev, it was my turn to have my pint of lager. 
"You want me to hold your hair back?" He offered. I searched for a band on my wrist and almost facepalmed as I realised I hadn't thought to bring one.
"Yes please, I completely forgot to get a hairband... Just come up behind me and grab my hair, while I do it" I said, scrunching my face up with realisation of what I'd said only once it had come out of my mouth.
"What was that?" Harry asked, bursting into laughter.
"Get in, Mr TV-"
"Please, not at that at the drinking table-"
"Not on the Chippo YouTube channel, you won't, but I can think of another site where you could-"
"Shut up I didn't mean it like that..." I groaned and put my head in my hands. "Look, I'm just going to send off the pint-"
Arthur's hand wrapped around my hair, the other one on my shoulder, rubbing it and giving soft words of encouragement. I let the drink tip down my throat easily as I felt the face heat up, his words landing hot on the back of my neck and making me want to shiver, despite the fact I was holding the drink. I could feel my face burning when I dropped the glass back down, grinning with the fact I had done it in one...
"That was really good- I didn't think you could finish it in two." Harry commented, nodding his head in surprise.
"I did it in one though?"
"Counted as two points though- you drank it with your right hand." Chip explained with a devious grin. 
Of course I had been stupid enough as to forget the rule- too fixated on gorgeous bloody Arthur instead of what I was actually meant to be doing. Drinking.
"That one's Arthur's fault- Maddie was too distracted by waiting for you to come up behind her-"
"SHUT UP, GEORGE!" Arthur's face went into his hands this time, both of us clearly a blushing mess from all the comments the boys were making. 
...
"What does your forfeit card say?" Arthur asked as we travelled to the next hole, not downcast despite my mess-ups, as we were still in joint second. 
"Sing a song with your partner at one of the holes." I read it off. "Sorry for getting you roped into it..."
"No, no, that's actually one of the only one's I'd happily be roped into," Arthur shook his head. "I suppose we just need to think of a song to sing... You a fan of Harry Potter?"
"Am I?!" I repeated enthusiastically. "You have no idea how much I used to love those books, movies... Even the Cursed Child I went and saw."
"Seriously? I just get called a nerd whenever I say I like Harry Potter," Arthur gawked. "Do you have a wand?"
"Yep, Ginny's wand- black and fourteen inches." I proudly nodded. "You could see those fourteen inches later ya know..."
"Only if you're trying to see a rather bendy, sixteen inch one with waterproofing." Arthur retaliated with confidence. 
"You got Hagrid's wand?"
"Duh, it came with an umbrella."
"Of course that's why you'd get it."
"This is hole two to the left, here!" Chip bellowed from behind. I lagged behind slightly to walk with Chris and Harry- catch up with them for a moment.
"You and Arthur getting cozy, eh?" Chris wiggled his brows, looking forwards to Arthur who was petting a dog with Reev- the both of them looking completely out of place, dressed in a bright orange prisoner jumpsuit and Reev as ketchup bottle (with a hat for a lid)- though the dog seemed pleased nonetheless. 
"Just don't let me catch you two snogging after a few more drinks." Harry put bluntly, making my eyes go wide.
"Just because you guys know I like him doesn't mean he likes me back, unfortunately." I reminded them, though I could feel my heart melting as Arthur scratched the back of the dog's ear and tickled his chin, the dog happily wagging his tail with his tongue lolling out as Arthur pet him. 
"Seems to like you enough." Harry shrugged. "Like you enough to come up behind you and-"
"Seriously shut up... Did I sound that stupid when I said that?"
"Yeah."
"No"
Chris and Harry responded simultaneously.
"Okay you sounded a little flustered when you said it, but then Arthur was blushing and looked shy as well- and everyone knows he's a bit awkward around women he likes," Harry pat my back comfortingly. "If anything he looked like more of a tit than you."
"Great, thanks Harry." I responded, somewhat flatly and yet somewhat happily. 
"Maddie, your team's getting another forfeit because Arthur scared the dog away." Chip addressed me as we neared the bar.
"Like hell he did, that dog loved him!" I exclaimed, head swivelling to find Arthur guiltily wavering his eye contact.
"Theo tried to take the dog away from me by offering it something so I tried to bash him with his wheelchair but the dog got scared and ran off." Arthur explained, kicking at a pebble on the ground. 
"Did you hit Theo?"
"Yes-"
"Well then... At least you hit him."
"What the fuck, Maddie." Theo deadpanned. 
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"Don't try steal Arthur's bitches I guess." I shrugged, watching as Arthur withdrew a forfeit card, his face dropping as he read it. 
"What does it say?" I asked, leaning over to try and read it. He smacked it against his chest before shoving it into a pocket, eyes wide as they met my own.
"Uhh- nothing." Arthur spluttered. "We can sort it out when we get to hole five when forfeits are actually activated... What did you say the rule for this hole was, Chip?"
"Drink with your partner holding the glass." Chip responded. 
I looked at Arthur.
"You're quite a bit taller- you're gonna have to crouch down for me to hold it." I realised, picking up the bloody mary and wrinkling my nose. "They really couldn't have picked a worse drink."
"They're foul aren't they." Arthur gave a dirty look to the glass. 
Each pair began seeing their drinks off, using a variety of methods to check whether it was too much or they needed a break.
"Do we need to do the hand-squeeze method to indicate whether it's too much?" Arthur asked, looking distastefully as Reev squeezed Harry's hand, signalling for Harry to tilt more. 
"I'm thinking we just raw-dog it." I shrugged, looking up for Arthur's reaction. He nodded in tasteful agreement.
"That's how I usually do it, anyways."
He picked one glass up. "You first," He stated instead of asking. "And open wide."
Reev gave him a neck-slap and a "Watch it, Arthur..." before I opened my mouth and tilted my head back, finishing it in one. 
"Alright, sit down so you're lower down, Arthur." I spoke through a shudder, the bitterness of the bloody mary giving me a whole-body shiver. 
Picking up a glass, I stood to the side of Arthur and held it up to his face, leaning over slightly due to the awkward angle I stood at. 
"Just come 'ere-" He reached out, steadfastly placing his hands on my hips and manspreading- pulling me between his legs so that I was closer and presumably so that he had a better angle to drink from. I felt my body react to his touch, cheeks warming and knees feeling a bit wobbly as he held his hands there for a moment longer, his grip firm but not forceful. I tried to maintain composure and stop myself from running my hands through his fluffy hair and kissing him right then and there.
"You watch your bloody hands, Arthur." Chris warned, causing Arthur to hold them up by his head as if pleading innocence. As he finally released his hold, I couldn't help but notice how the closeness between us left a lingering sensation, like an electric current still pulsating through my skin. His presence was intoxicating, and I struggled to steadily hold the glass for Arthur to down. I turned to death-glare Chris as I placed the glass back onto the table once Arthur had finished it. 
"Why would anyone voluntarily order that, that's awful... I feel like I've lost my soul after drinking that..." Arthur shivered at the bitterness. "Who knew dementors could be put in drinks..."
Laughing, I sat down besides him and leaned my head against his shoulder as if it were second nature. It felt so natural and cosy against the crook of his neck, and I felt warmed even more as he put his arm around my shoulders, watching in a comfortable silence as Chip choked on his drink from across the table. 
"You're so cute..." I murmured, and only once the words had been said did I regret them slightly. I facepalmed internally as Arthur struggled to reply for a moment, myself wondering why I had to be such a lightweight; only 2 drinks down and already I was making careless comments.
"Am I really cute?" Arthur asked after a moment, and I pulled away from his shoulder to dopily smile at him. 
"Of course you are, you have a cute little smile." I grinned, causing his lips to stretch out into a smile as he laughed slightly, eyes curving into happy little crescents as he did. "See? Cutest smile I've even seen." I giggled, and Arthur looked down with such domestic happiness in his glowing chocolate eyes I felt as though my heart were melting, simply so infatuated with him.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything here-" Harry planted himself between Arthur and I on the bench, forcing Arthur's arm away and my head from his neck. Arthur cleared his throat and looked at the ground whilst Harry looked between Arthur and I. "What, something wrong?" Harry responded to my blank face, before grinning and giving a wink which Arthur couldn't see. 
"Prick," I hissed as I passed Harry on the walk to the third hole, causing Harry to burst into laughs and start explaining to Chris what he's done- only making Chris laugh alongside him. 
Pricks.
...
Hole three was easy- just a glass of wine and pub quiz Arthur and I managed to lose a point at for winning the quiz. 
As the smallest person there, I was also the least able to handle large amounts of alcoholic units- and it had begun showing, from the moment I went to stand up and almost fell back down. 
Arthur had to walk with his arm around me to the next pub, though I wasn't complaining- instead holding his hand and making him skip with me to hole four. 
"Long Island iced teas on this one," Chip explained. "And the rule here is that one member of the team must drink it blindfolded."
"I think I'm more sober than you at the minute," Arthur stated the obvious, as if I hadn't just made him skip to this hole. "I'll wear the blindfold for this one."
"You sure? I'm not completely gone right now, just a bit...Well..." It was a pointless proposition from myself. Arthur just shook his head, handing me the blindfold.
I slipped the material over his eyes, placing the drink on a separate table to that the boys wouldn't dump ice into his drink (which had just happened to Theo's drink), and directing him to the glass- though Chip had better ideas. 
"Maddie, could you please regulated the hand-" Arthur spoke waveringly, and I noticed that Chip had a hand on Arthur's arse.
"Oi, chip-" I reached over for the space hopper which was besides the bag, whacking Chip with it before being hit in the face with it myself.
"Fuck!" We both exclaimed. Arthur had found his glass and drank it in one towards the side, meanwhile Chip found Theo's wheelchair and he began fighting against me and my space hopper. "Chip, I don't think you're gonna win this one," I huffed as the space hopper bounced off of his side, making him stumble slightly. 
"Like shit won't I win- I've been going gym you know-" I cut off his rambles by throwing the hopper at him, causing him to stumble back and trip slightly over the curb so that he was sat on the pavement- allowing me to put my arm around his neck, squeezing only slightly.
"Tap out already, Chip..." I groaned whilst Chip shook his head whilst struggling.
"Chip isn't used to tapping out, he usually passes out before he gets the chance." Theo sneered from the side. That seemed to be enough to make Chip tap out. 
We finished our drinks after that before agreeing on a short grace period, where we sat around and chattered for a few minutes.
"The blindfold makes you feel like, ten times more drunk than you actually are." George said, the other who had worn the blindfold agreeing. 
"You should try it, Maddie- you're by far the most off your head right now- it'll be funny to see how you react to it."
That's how I ended up on the pavement, blindfold on and hands outstretched as Arthur directed me, his fingers occasionally brushing against mine as he'd insisted on walking beside me to make sure I didn't get a concussion from falling over anything.
"Watch the curb here, it's quite difficult navigating- WHOA" As soon as Arthur had said that, I stumbled, almost falling but Arthur held me up from behind whilst the others laughed from the table at my stagger. "You sure you wanna continue? I don't think it's safe, Maddie..."
"It'll be okay, I'm just gonna get back to the table and pull it off..."
I took a few more staggered steps, Arthur holding my hand to guide me whilst I was blinded, his hand warm and reassuring, and I felt confident with Arthur's unwavering presence by my side. His touch sent a gentle electrical ripples down my spine, igniting a spark that brought butterflies to life in my stomach as I focussed less on walking and more on Arthur.
But then I felt a blow to my head- not painful- but extremely forceful.
Some voices screamed "CHIP!" whilst another shouted "Maddie!" as I staggered, waiting to fall- before feeling hands on my back and the crook of my knees, gravity seeming to turn upside down for a moment, before the blindfold was ripped off. 
Arthur's face was above my own, looking forwards as he walked- his two strong arms holding me flush to his body as he carried me in what I assumed was bridal style- having prevented my fall. He looked gorgeous from this angle- his chiselled features accentuated by the soft glow of the sunshine through the dull English clouds- and his eyes, like pools of warm honey, never not making me melt.
"You okay, Maddie?" He looked down and questioned, eyes full of concern and yet also alighting sparks within me as they met my own.
"What? Of course I am... What even happened?" I asked in confusion as I looked back and saw the boys with open mouths looking between myself and Chip, who had a look of upmost guilt on his face. Arthur sat down on one of the seats surrounding the table and lowering me onto that same seat before replying. Nevermind- I was actually sat on his lap, and was NOT going to complain about it.
Chris was going to instead.
"She can sit on her own seat, Arthur-"
"She's almost been bloody ran over, she's sticking with me for now." Arthur huffed resolutely, wrapping his arms around my waist as he spoke to make his point. I felt my head go fuzzy from the touch, leaning back into his touch and resting my head onto his shoulder where it felt like it belonged... Before pulling it back off quickly as I digested his words again.
"Hang on, almost ran over? What the Hell just happened?"
"Chip thought it'd be a good idea to whack you with the space hopper whilst you were blindfolded and he knocked you off balance- you would've fallen into the road if Arthur hadn't got you." Harry explained, a small smile playing on his face. 
"Good man, Arthur." Reev nodded his head approvingly before turning to Chip. "And you, you're no better at handling your drink than her- what if she had gotten run over?"
"Good riddance, in that case." Chip sipped his water calmly, making me throw an ice cube at him.
In the end, Chip made a formal apology (which was of course easily accepted), and drew another forfeit card, having to take 3 shots to make up for almost brutally murdering me- which I thought was very fair. 
Hole five happened so quickly I didn't even register it- though that may have been also due to the knock to the head Chip had delivered. 
However on the walk between hole five to hole six, the alcohol began taking its effect on more people. 
Namely, Chris and Chip.
Chip had found the space hopper once more and began hammering Chris with it whilst Chris balled up onto the ground. "YOU STUPID BOY-" Chip was yelling between blows, Harry and Reev slapping each other between laughs. 
Then, Harry set off on his bike to the next hole as Chip let Chris get up- before we all slung our arms over each other and began the journey to hole 6, singing Backstreet Boys all the way there. 
Arthur lagged behind slightly, and though I was busy singing with Chris and Chip, I did notice they were having quite a hushed conversation, and looking our way every so often.
"Hole six- forfeits are now activated!"
"Can I know your forfeit yet?" I whispered to Arthur, and he simply shook his head with a small smile. 
"I know what it is, Maddie," Reev giggled to the side, rubbing his hands together with a look of glee on his face. 
"Is that what you two were talking about whilst we walked here?" I gasped at the realisation, looking between the two as they shrugged with all-knowing smiles on their faces. 
Hole six was easy- sambuca shots with no hands. I managed mine, though I almost choked it and chipped it when it clattered onto the table- whereas Arthur was found out for trying to dilute his drink, and was made to do two shots instead. 
Still, he didn't seem to be off his head at all.
"Arthurrr," I sang I skipped up to him, on the journey to hole seven.
"Madelyn." He nodded cordially, saying my full name before smirking as he saw my face wrinkle in disgust. "Not a fan of your full name?"
"Not when it's bloody Madelyn, I'm not," I responded, shuddering at the thought.
"Maddie sounds like you're mad," Arthur pondered. "You should just go with... Lyn."
"...Lyn." I repeated, trying to hold a laugh.
"Yeah, it's cute- just like you." Arthur grinned down, making me turn away so he wouldn't see the stupid blush that began spreading across my cheeks.
"Suddenly I quite like that name." I smiled bashfully back, and Arthur just laughed, sliding an arm around me casually and allowing me to rest my head against his shoulder as we walked in a comfortable silence.
"You're so fine, Arthur." I said after a while. "You know I like you?"
"I like you too, Lyn." He patted my head and pulled his arm away, instead slipping his hand into mine as we walked. I didn't feel satisfied with his reaction. Did he not realise I meant that I liked him romantically?
"No, I meant that like- I really like-"
"AND HERE IS HOLE SEVEN!" 
Trust Chip to ruin a romantic moment. 
just an fyi im swapping the order of the holes- everything that happened in the vid at hole 8 is now assumed to have happened at hole 7, and vice versa
"Lyn I don't think I an do another pint," Arthur put down two drinks onto the table before sitting on my lap instead of the bench, allowing me to plop my policeman hat onto his head and hug him from behind, shaking my head.
"I've been finished since hole three, Arthur- I don't care what happens now, you can just sip the whole thing and I'll be fine with that." I groaned. "I'm definitely doing this in at least three different pars..."
I did exactly that. Arthur managed his in five, alongside my words of encouragement which made Chip awhhh.
"I love how everyone hates each other and is beating each other with the space hopper between holes whilst Arthur and Maddie are too busy holding hands and being wholesome with each other, walking alone to each hole." Chip said with a disoriented smile at one of the cameras, louder than he thought he was being as both myself and Arthur watched him say it to the camera.
"Bit early to be holding hands isn't it?" Chris asked, dopily swinging his head back to Arthur and I, only just registering Arthur was also sat on my lap. "Naughty, don't be sitting on each others laps like I have no idea what's going in where when someone sits on someone's lap-"
"That's enough from you, Chris." I shushed my brother, pressing a hand to his mouth which weakly attempted to paw away from his mouth.
"On to hole eight, final hole?" Chip proposed and everyone nodded in agreement- all too ready to get this over and done with.
"I don't think I've ever been this drunk before." I admitted to Arthur as we exited the pub, hands clasped together and swinging joyfully back and forth as we walked, as though we were kids. "I feel like I'm not even walking."
"And now you really aren't even walking," Arthur said as he placed his arms on my legs and back, scooping me back into his arms, carrying me as though I were nothing. I wrapped my arms around his neck and stared up at his face I'd grown so fond of over these past few hours. 
"What song d'you wanna sing for my forfeit at the next hole?" I questioned, myself also wondering what we could sing. 
"Oh it'll come to us when we get there..." Arthur spoke lazily, jumping me up to readjust my grip causing me to let out a squeak before relaxing against his body. Did he have abs under that shirt? It felt like it. He is so fine. 
My thoughts died out as I realised this was the final hole and after this it would be all over. Thank God. 
We all clinked our jaeger bombs together, the lightweight drink easily going down in one for everyone before Chip reminded Arthur and I that we still had forfeits we had to complete.
"What is your forfeit Arthur?" Harry asked inquisitively- somehow looking as though he hadn't had a single drink, although he had in fact had the most, having ordered an extra pint for good measure.
"That's what I'm asking- he still hasn't told me, either!" I exclaimed, looking for Arthur to give his game up and show the card. "C'mon, surely you can reveal it now that it's the last hole-"
"Not before you do your forfeit-song to the bar- look- they have a karaoke machine nobody's using there, go use it before someone else takes it!" Arthur rushed, pointing at the TV screen connected to a microphone and speakers. The other boys began clamouring their agreement before pushing me up to the stage, a bundle of nerves as I stumbled up the stairs, slotting a coin into the machine and waiting for the next song to come on. 
"ArthurTV this is a GROUP FORFEIT- GET UP ONTO THE STAGE!" I shouted and held a hand out to Arthur, causing him to take my hand and get onto the stage with the help of the boys, as they cheered upon hearing the first few chords of the infamous song we were only singing a few hours ago.
I Want it That Way, by the Backstreet Boys. Of course. 
I held the mic out for Arthur to hold with me as we sang the first line.
You are... My fi-ire, the one... desi-ire
I opened my eyes and faced Arthur, the look of joy melted into his caramel eyes and making me feel soft and gentle hearted as we went to sing the next line.
Believe... When I say... THAT I WANT IT THAT WAY
I looked out to the crowd and saw that some tables had turned to face us, singing alongside the tune- and all the other boys had huddled together, arms around each other and swaying back and forth as they joined us for the chorus. 
Tell me why Ain't nothin' but a heartache
Arthur closed his eyes as he virtually shouted the lyrics into the microphone, getting so into the song I had to pause to laugh before continuing
Tell me why Ain't nothin' but a mistake Tell me why I never wanna hear you say
Arthur and I leaned it to sing the final bit of the song, heartily enjoying as the rest of the bar joined us to finish it.
I want it that way
I looked at Arthur, his own eyes meeting me own- full of a tender sort of love I had only ever seen in the movies...
Cause I want it that way...
The song ended with whistles and claps from the rest of the bar, before I dropped the microphone to the ground, wheeling around to face Arthur with a squeal and outstretched arms, as my arms wrapped around his neck, his arms found my waist, pulling me right off of the floor as he hugged me, spinning me around once before I pulled my head off of his chest and looked up at his glowing face.
My eyes only flickered down to his lips for a milisecond before I felt his on top of my own, a billion tiny fireflies lighting up and racing around my stomach as I closed my eyes, relaxing into his hands which were positioned lazily around my waist, holding me lovingly as his lips caressed my own, tuning out the world around us as I focussed on just him and I- together - his lips perfectly top of mine.
...
"What was your forfeit in the end, Arthur?" I asked, eyebrows scrunched as I sat on his lap at the table- arms around his neck and my police hat and tie around Arthur's neck. 
Theo was close to nodding off whilst Chip besides him already had. Chris had taken to the stage, wowing the bar with his drunk dancing and (not) killer vocals. Harry, George and Reev still seemed alright however, and were sat making warm conversation around the table, laughing and joking like there was nothing wrong. And truly- there was nothing wrong.
Arthur smiled slightly at my question before tugging at his pocket and pulling out the card, sharpie pen scrawled across it saying:
Give a kiss to the fittest person in the group xoxo (Doesn't have to be on the lips, Chip- we know you will anyways, but everyone else- just know you don't need to go that deep)
I laughed at the bracketed side-note before looking up to Arthur who smiled goofily down at me, looking so pleased- as though he wouldn't rather have anyone else in his arms.
My hand found the side of his face, thumb tracing his jawline and running up his cheeks before padding at his lips. Closing my eyes, I leaned it, finding his lips as we kissed once more, still with the afterglow of embers burning in my heart as I realised I couldn't be happier in anyone else's arms. 
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Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!
To see more, here's my MASTERLIST
And here's my WATTPAD, with 50+ more oneshots to read
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kenphobia · 1 year
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THE APPLE OF MY EYE!
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"my type of guy? it's wally's boyfriend."
summary. wally and howdy, a hilarious duo that you wouldn't expect to get together at first glance and no one expected them to bring the newest neighbor into their relationship too. (headcanons. read author's note at the end)
contents. fluff, slight hurt, mostly silly and sweet moments, reader is hinted to be a puppet. wally and howdy breaks the law kind of, these btches wanna be gay bowser so bad
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✦ Howdy isn't even sure what got him attracted to Wally in the first place, not that he needed a reason in the first place. Wally was endearing, kind and truly lived up to his name— He was a darling. And god, Howdy fell hard for his charms.
✦ And it wasn't only Howdy who fell in love, Wally too but he'd rather stare at an apple pie than admit he fell first. Howdy was a good man, and Wally was far from that. The caterpillar only knew a small bit of the not-so-good things Wally had done, but he still accepted him wholly. That was enough to make the painter want him.
✦ Their dynamic didn't change much from back when they were just friends. Other than Wally aggressively flirting with Howdy and distracting the poor puppet from work (He had to bribe Wally with a bucket of apples just to let him work in peace), everything was still the same and they didn't care if it wasn't that romantic.
✦ Howdy isn't the biggest fan of PDA, but he lets Wally hold his hand. Wally understands so that's why he spoils Howdy a lot with cuddles, kisses and hugs behind closed doors. Both of them are highly affection deprived, so they'll cuddle for hours without end whilst they stare at the ceiling or talk about their favorite things.
✦ Wally has a special room in home where it's just painting after painting of Howdy. There were some unfinished ones tucked in the corner, a few were hung up in Wally's bedroom and the best ones were set up to display around the house. Whenever Howdy does come to his house, Wally would instantly hide it in the room because he's too embarrassed to show it.
✦ Howdy knows about it though, Home showed the room to him once and he didn't know whether to be concerned or be flustered about it. He doesn't tell Wally though, letting him run around and panic about hiding them is somewhat funny to watch.
✦ The painter gets discounts on most things from the bugdega, mostly it's apples and art supplies he gets from there. Although, Howdy can be a bit mischievous at times and would ask a cuddle session or a kiss in return for certain items. Wally is more than willing to comply, he'd do it in a heartbeat, no questions even asked.
Wally lounged around Howdy's little living space in the bugdega, humming as he waited for his boyfriend to finish his shift. He gripped his pencil firmly, sketching out the final details to his drawing.
The doors creaked open, catching Wally's attention as he turned his head up from his sketchbook. Howdy walked in with a tired-looking expression, his apron hung on the coat hanger while his nametag was discarded and left atop the drawer.
Though, when Howdy saw Wally sitting on the sofa, his exhaustion was immediately replaced by a relaxed joy. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Love."
Wally shook his head, closing up his sketchbook and putting it down on the coffee table. He offered Howdy an understanding smile, "It's alright, I wasn't waiting that long anyways."
As Wally was about to stand up, He felt something pulling his entire weight off the ground as two pairs of arms wrapped around him. Howdy sat down on the couch with a comfortable hum, putting Wally down on his lap as he sunk his entire back on the sofa.
Red spread across Wally's face fast like a fever, his body stiffing for a moment but sooner relaxed within his boyfriend's firm but gentle grip. He has never felt so safe and calm before in his entire life, and warm too. Are caterpillars naturally warmer than most puppets or was it just Wally?
The two of them sat there while Wally fiddled with Howdy's hands, silently comparing it to his own and loosing himself further into sleep. Truly, the many pros of getting yourself a tall lover who loves picking you up and cuddling you like a stuffed toy.
Howdy, then, got a sniff of Wally's hair, It smelled faintly of vanilla and green apples. Howdy had to take a few seconds before realizing it was the scent of his shampoo! His eyes widened at the sudden conclusion, "Wally, have you been using my shampoo?" He asked the tiny puppet in his arms.
"Why were you sniffing my hair in the first place?" Wally argued back, a chuckle vibrated from his chest.
"I— Fair point." Howdy gave up, sighing in defeat as he adjusted his position to make both of them comfortable. Seems like Wally won't be returning to Home tonight.
✦ Before getting romantically involved with each other, Howdy always found Wally's staring a bit off-putting in some situations but he later learned that Wally really loves staring and it's one of his many ways of communicating his affection towards someone. Howdy also got the staring habit so he does the same to Wally.
✦ Wally really, really loves Howdy's eyes. He loves it more when he knows it's on him.
WALLY X READER X HOWDY!
✦ Wally and Howdy found you too adorable to even able to stay single, so they pulled you in their little relationship. Both of them are strangely clingy, with Howdy being less obvious than Wally who you always have carrying your arms.
✦ Speaking of the little painter, he likes to draw you and Howdy together! He mostly draw you two in his little sketchbook when you guys are fast asleep and have no idea that Wally is just ... standing right over your bed, sketchbook in hand and taking in every and any detail.
✦ Sometimes, you'd end up finding Wally painting the very same sketch onto a canvas. He quickly shoo'ed you out because of his embarrassment, but it doesn't really help since Home legit lead them to the very same room with Howdy paintings but this timez there are also paintings of you!
✦ It's better not to tell him what you saw because he will cry ans crumble immediately at your feet. If you did tell him, I suggest having a phone nearby so you can call Howdy to calm him down. Home isn't going to do much and actually prepared popcorn for you to eat, it's not like it has a mouth to eat the snack so...
✦ Howdy does the same discount thing he does to Wally to you except that he asks for a little bit more and adds Wally into the mix. The latter doesn't mind and actually joins Howdy into luring you to another one of their 5+ hours long of cuddling.
✦ Wally gets the most forehead kisses from you and he could only do so much by kissing your jaw oe your bottom lip, it's funny whenever he tries jumping up and down just to kiss you. He's just pull you down by your shirt and smooch you hard, pushing you gently and down on a chair before walking away with an accomplished smile.
✦You can barely give Howdy forehead kisses due to how tall he is and how much a teaser he is too, but you manage to catch him off guard and plant many, many kisses on his face. He does strike back by doing the same, but he'll tear up a bit since you and Wally are the only ones by far who has spoiled him so much of affection.
✦ Dates happen usually on the weekends or holidays, so you guys set up a cute little picnic. But if the weather doesn't look good, you all stay at either Wally's or your place, cooking from a reciepe book Wally borrowed from Poppy with some levels of difficulty. (He had to make an oath that he must quit cooking if Poppy found out he injured himself, Wally never feared for his life as much as he did back then)
✦ Wally would ask you and Howdy to be his muses! Sometimes, it's just you as the muse since Howdy is drawing side by side with Wally. If it's on paper, you always put both of their drawings up on the fridge.
✦ Your mailbox is filled to the brim with love letters from the 12 apples high puppet, and he even got Howdy on board with it. Eddie has to put both of them on a mail timeout because of how his bag was filled with love letters for days.
✦ The two of them manages to give their love letters to you regardless. Howdy would slip little notes of affection into your bags after you visited his shop whilst Wally would just break into your house and scatter his letters around. You had the enjoyment of watching Wally getting scolded by Home for breaking in.
"Home, I'm sorry—"
Home creaked loudly, angrily even as Wally immediately shut his mouth. He had his head hanging low, hands clasped together in front as he had this pouting, almost puppy-like expression. It was sad, embarrassing but you couldn't care less after you had to clean your house for 5 hours. You had no idea this little shortstack of a puppet could write and draw that much.
Howdy appeared to your side, sneaking his hand into your bowl and quickly munched on a handful of popcorn. "Wow, Home's really going at it, huh?" His voice muffled a bit due to the food in his mouth.
"Howdy, don't speak with your mouth full." You scolded him, elbowing his lower left arm. "But, yeah. Home found out about Wally breaking into my house and well... You know, house rights and privacies. Something along those lines."
Your caterpillar lover nodded slowly, unsure and confused with the whole situation. He took in a hesitant breath, the popcorns falling from his mouth and onto his hands. "Wait a second— Wally broke into your house, Home found out and is lecturing Wally about ... respecting houses?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Huh." Howdy paused, staring down at his hand. "Wait, you can't even eat. Why do you have a bowl of popcorn?"
"Well, you can't eat either, but you still took a handful of popcorn." You argued back, furrowing your brows at him.
"I— Fair point, yeah."
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author's notes. you ship your oc with howdy one time and now you also like howdy, smh. the duality of men does not exist unless it's for simping welcome home chharacters.
as always, requests and sugguestions are always open !! any support is appreciated, tyvm
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synthetic-rust · 3 months
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Handel guy
(Various sketches and some ideas for how I want to design his humanoid form - still very much a wip)
+ some earlier design ideas for him
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*One on the right was more of an exploration into what vibe of design I want to give him as opposed to a finished attempt.
I still kinda like the older hair, I think it works, but the shorter, more rounded look of what I’ve decided on suits him better for my vision I think.
I want to make him look a bit silly and somewhat posh in a sorta faux(?) Victorian way, whilst still looking decent as a design.
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geodraws04 · 1 month
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PKMN ScarVio DLC AU ~ Possessed!Kieran
Just finished the page for my contribution to the good ol’ Toxic Chain theory :OOO
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I recently finished the Teal Mask and finishing up the Indigo Disk DLC and while i really did like the fact that Kieran’s actions were all his own and makes him a much more realistic/relatable character, I am feeling a little robbed we didn't get a possessed!kieran + i really did not like the direction they took w/ Mochi Mayhem. I felt like it was WAAAY too silly/comedic for my tastes (if you liked it more power to you tho!), and wish we had more lore/backstory and involvement of Pecharunt and the Loyal 3 respectivally.
so i wanted to try killing two birds with one stone and try to mash ID and MM together somewhat! So heres some sketches and concept stuff ft. My PKMN!Violet sona. And also make this AU ANGSTY AS FUCK-
im not a comedy/crack/silly person when it comes to stories involving manipulation/mind control type of stuff because i just get second hand embarressment for those under doing wierd stuff while not aware so if your looking for a “silly haha!” AU with this type of concept ive got bad news for ya… this AU aint gonna be for you-
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Starting off… my design for when Kieran is fully possessed by Pecharunt!
I still really liked the fact that Kieran was like. FULLY aware and in his own mind/body during ID; so i want to keep that in this AU too - for the most part.
id like to think that once making a deal with Pecharunt and offering himself to it in order to become stronger, the little peach would slowly feed him mochi that would “numb the pain and guilt if he ever feels doubtful.” At the time of Pecharunt’s debut to the start of ID, pecharunt is extremely weak and thus, its influence isnt as effective or strong. However, when we meet Kieran again, he’s definately beginning to change. throughout the story, we see Kieran’s spiraling descent into madness as he becomes more intimidating and cynical.
i dont have a specific spot where hed have this outfit change, but ill figure it out lol.
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However, i def think it would be a bit after his panic attack/mental break down when we defeat him. Since at this point he couldnt uphold his end of the deal with Pecharunt, it has no choice: he offered his body and mind to it to get stronger, but he couldnt keep it up. So now, he has to pay the price.
(This would be right after the Ex-Champ bit - fuck you Draydon)
however, instead of telling himself to get stronger like in canon… he mumbles something indescernable and unintelligable… and then he starts… laughing?
“K-Kieran…?”
“Uh… yo, earth to ex-champion… you doin’ alright-?”
Suddenly… he glares at us… no. He glares at you, tears streaming down his face but an animalistic and crazily wide smile is plastered on his face as he stumbles back up, hugging himself while letting out what one would think is the most maniacal, despairing, crazy cackling laughter one could hear.
That's when you see it - his eyes, formally a light yellow, now a bright yet darkly sinister shade of violet-magenta. The scrunchie he was wearing began growing two strings of toxic chains that waved around like tentacles, and lifted him up in the air like stilts, purple smoke filling the area.
what was happening… whats happened to Kieran.
no, whatever that was…
Thats not Kieran.
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The bottom sketch is a small scenario i had in mind!
i want pecharunt to have a larger role so here they are! After returning the teal mask to me and carmine and running off, he stumbles upon an injured and weak Pecharunt, and secretly nurses it back to health. Behind everyone’s backs the two spark a friendship/partnership!
i like to think pecharunt has good intentions and did genuinely want to help kieran get stronger, but i like to think that the toxins it gave to Kieran not only began to mess with Kieran’s mind, but with Pecharunt’s too.
how exactly? No idea just yet lol- ill figure that out later on down the line lol. Along with the loyal 3’s roles in the story as well.
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Heres a few for fun and more funny sketches i made to fill up the empty space lol-
also feat. Moi, yuma and shinigami jykghhfjhfdjhygjuy-
QUICK DISCLAIMER! IM NOT SHIPPING MYSELF W/ KIERAN SINCE HES IMPLIED TO BE A TEEN AND IM A LEGAL ADULT!! the DLC came out when i was 17; almost 18 (released a few days before my bday actually!)
i like to think that when this story and AU respectively take place, Kieran is 14 while im 16 turning 17 that fall in Teal Mask (Carmine being 18 or 19?), then in Indigo Disc Kieran is 16, im 18, and Carmine is 19/20. So me and kieran are 2 years apart, while me and Carmine are 1-2 years apart.
Its mostly because id like to think me and kieran’s dynamic is similar to a close friend i have irl and wanted to write it as such while retaining the canon story too. If that makes sense lol.
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And one more sady drawing when kieran is freed from Pecharunt’s control!
i think i speak for everyone that we needed a scene where we hugged kieran after all the shit he’s been through-
justice for my baby boy kieran. :,,,))
AAAAAAANNNNNNDDDDD THATS ALL I GOT FOR NOW!!
what do yall think :000
any suggestions/ideas, critiques, whatever is on your mind about this AU is appreciated!! Im gonna get back to my remnant designs lol-
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buggee22 · 11 months
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hi hi ur art is so delicious i'm eating it for dinar esp ur toby n ej <3 have u ever drawn liu before? i'm curious what ur interpretation of him is,,,
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Thank you sm!! (sorry for leaving this for actual decades))
I cant believe I haven’t posted my take on him anywhere besides tiktok,,,these sketches are also almost a year old I will draw him again sometime!
I will ramble on for a bit here because I used to think about him a lot!
After the Jeff incident + recovering physically,,
The part of him that consumed all of the hatred, anger, murderous intent over what Jeff did was Sully, a personality he created in order to (albeit poorly) deal with the former events. (I think of it like in moonknight w mark and Steven)
His main goal would be finding his brother and getting revenge for both the loss of his parents, his little brother, and all of Jeff’s innocent victims due to whatever ‘evil’ resides within Jeff.
Liu is constantly battling with his feelings on putting an end to Jeff’s madness/crimes, however, he still sees his younger brother within him. Someone who Liu can’t bring himself to harm.
Liu carries A LOT of guilt and regret for not being able to help Jeff, he thinks it’s his fault that things escalated to this point.
(which is absolutely not true, but he doesn’t see it that way) It hurts him to still not be able to finish things or have any sort of resolution.
Sully is somewhat the “barrier” that protects him from completely falling apart. Liu and Sully are pretty much two different people with different memories/emotions/reactions etc.
Sully on the other hand gladly would inflict pain upon Jeff and any other poor victims he may come across. He isn’t entirely deranged however, he’s very calculated in his killings and quite skilled combat wise.
Both of them are in love with Susan. The nurse who took care of them after the incident. She is also aware of both Liu and Sully and cares for them both as different people. She obviously doesn’t condone Sully’s actions however and is present enough to prevent some harm coming to innocent people.
I believe I’ve rambled on enough for now but if anyone is ever curious about more lore I have for any pasta I’d be so glad to share!
Thank you again for your message! <3
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braxiatel · 5 months
Text
You know that “if it were a drawing I would call it a doodle or a sketch” incomplete fic I posted a while back?
Well here’s another from a few months ago.
Mumscarian (shocking, I know) hunger games au except instead of being told from the POV of someone in the hunger games it’s told by someone they left behind.
Content warnings are all similar in style and detail to the hunger games books, anx include injury (with specific mention of broken bones, spinal injuries, eye injuries, burns), references to genocide, displacement, and loss of a parental figure. Child- and animal endangerment, dissociation, non consensual body modifications, and possibly more that I cannot recall at this moment. Proceed with caution.
———
Cats have healing powers.
Scar was the one who told him that, on a cold winter’s day in front of the fire. Had it really only been months? It felt so much longer…
Something about their purring, Scar had said. He had been more specific than that, but Mumbo’s head was somewhat hazy at the moment.
But the purring healed you, Mumbo could remember as much.
Still, he was pretty sure Jellie alone wasn’t going to get him out of this one, not for lack of trying.
It was her fault he was here anyway.
… No, that wasn’t true. He would have said as much to himself if not for the fact that even moving his lips to take in gasping breaths was agony.
They had been warned before the bombs started to drop. There has been time to run, Pearl’s hand in his so they did not lose each other in the crowd.
Until he saw a woman carrying a goat in her arms and remembered-
“I have to go back,” he panted through strained breaths - he was nowhere near as fit as Pearl, who had been washing the coal-smeared clothes of half the Seam since age eleven to make ends meet.
“What?!” Pearl asked, continuing to pull him towards the hovercraft that was waiting on the green. “Mumbo if we stay we’re going to die. Whatever you forgot it isn’t more important than your life, if can be replaced, I promise. Just-”
“Jellie,” he interrupted her. “We forgot Jellie.”
Pearl’s grip slackened. The crowd kept moving around them, indistinct bodies pushing them forward and together.
“It will break Scar if he comes home and finds out she’s gone. I’ll just… two minutes, okay? I’ll be two minutes. I’ll go to his house and if she isn’t home I’m leaving without her. I just have to try.”
Pearl had looked as though she wanted to argue. She was practical though, in the same way Grian was, in the same way every child that grew up in the Seam was
“No sense in wasting time then. Go. Two minutes, Mumbo, and no more.”
Jellie continued to purr in his arms, unaware of the danger they were still in.
Suppose he had fancied himself a romantic, running back into a doomed town to save his sort-of-boyfriend’s cat.
Grian would laugh and call him an idiot… or he would have once. Grian didn’t do a great deal of laughing these days.
Mumbo could taste blood on his tongue. He wondered if any of the animals that lived in the forests beyond District 12 could smell it, if at any moment a mountain lion might finish him off, defenceless as he was.
He wondered if any of the animals were even still alive.
There had been blood on his tongue the day it started too.
His father - his adopted father that was - always chided him for the habit of biting on his cheek when he was nervous. But not today. Xisuma may have been smiling under his breather, but the Mayor of 12 was anything but calm. Wishing that another boy - any other than Mumbo - would be the one whose name was drawn today, did not sit well with Mayor Xisuma, who had been appointed to keep the citizens of 12 in line and dedicated himself to keeping them safe instead.
Today Mumbo bit his cheek, lined up with every other boy age twelve to eighteen in the district.
Well, almost. Scar had offered him a wink from the line of girls, standing out like a sore thumb in his trousers and the white shirt that had long ago been tainted a greyish brown by wear.
Although Scar was only a little more than a year older than Mumbo, he had been towards the back with the other seventeen-year-olds, while Mumbo was perfectly in the middle, still two weeks shy of sixteen.
“You look as if you’re about to implode from sheer stress,” a familiar voice has said from behind him.
Mumbo couldn’t remember what he had replied anymore, but he did recall how the hints of blonde in Grian’s hair had stood out in the sun that day. Pearl, he knew, always insisted on both of them having a proper bath before the reaping.
They would have shared the same banter they always did. Grian would tease him for being nervous when his name was barely in the draw at all, and Mumbo would mentally assure himself that Grian was right, he was safe.
That had been the day he learned what he should actually have been fearing all along.
The world had stopped turning when Scar’s given name was called out.
It had taken a moment before anyone had recognised it, it had been years since he used it last after all.
“I prefer Scar, actually,” he had corrected, stepping out of the lineup with a smile on his face.
Scar’s nose wrinkled when he smiled and meant it. Mumbo had admired it a thousand times in breaks between lessons and walking home through the Merchant’s section of the district, had tasted it on his lips far too few times for Scar to go off to his death now.
Grian’s hand was a steadying presence on Mumbo’s back for only a moment before the next name was called.
“Grian Xelqua.”
This time the world had stopped spinning altogether. In Mumbo’s memory it did anyway.
His next real memory was sitting opposite Grian, in a room adjacent to his father’s office, babbling about making sure Pearl wouldn’t be left alone through sobs.
He had felt so awful about those tears. There he was, crying about the prospect of losing Grian and Scar, when his best friend and his boyfriend were both about to leave to die horribly in the Hunger Games.
He had only been given a moment with Grian before Pearl arrived. Even thinking about the look on her face as she went to tell her twin goodbye still chilled Mumbo to the bone.
Next, he had guided to see Scar, the seat still warm from Cub having sat there only moments ago.
Most people would have put Cub’s quick departure down to the fact that he and Scar were cousins so many times removed they were only barely more related than anyone else in the Merchant’s section.
Mumbo knew the truth to be something else entirely. Cub was a man of few words and a practical one at that. In the coming weeks, many would look sideways at his apothecary as it continued to be open even as Scar fought for his life in the games. Mumbo understood, though, and so did Scar.
“I love you,” it had been the first time either of them had said it, their romance still new. Now Scar spoke the words carefully, stroking Mumbo’s tear-stained cheek before he continued to add: “But when I leave this building I am going to have to forget that, and I want you to do the same. I love you, Mumbo, and that’s why I’m going to make sure you don’t lose both of us.”
At the time he hadn’t thought he would ever know greater pain than having to hide his feelings away, watching Scar use his golden tongue to charm the masses of the Capitol, convincing them of his undying devotion towards Grian, never once mentioning Mumbo in all of his interviews.
He was certainly in more pain now... Mumbo had always been a bit of a spoon, though, so it was no wonder he was wrong about that too.
Jellie crooned in his arms and Mumbo forced his right eye open - the left remaining stuck shut just as it had since the fire had licked across his skin.
Jellie’s fur may be a little singed, but Mumbo’s blood had put any fires that had touched her out. He almost wanted to laugh at that, but his lungs were stinging from the smoke and the ash in the air and it was all he could do not to choke on it.
Above the chasm he was lying in the wind blew harshly, stoking the fires consuming the forest around him.
It was definitely ironic that he should die this way. For months now he had had nightmares of flames, ever since that fateful day when the 74th Hunger Games had ended.
Grian had all but dragged Scar through the forests, Scar’s left leg trailing after him like deadweight and his right barely able to support him, fire chasing them ever forward.
Mumbo had been sick three times that day. When the fire started, again when a dagger was wedged into Grian’s right eye, and finally when the game makers had announced that Grian and Scar could not win together after all.
He had missed the part where they took each other’s hands and walked to the edge of a cliff, ready to throw themselves off together instead of either of them winning alone.
The fire crackled above the chasm again.
“Go,” he hissed through uneasy breaths, nudging Jellie with his shoulders. “Please.”
Scar would be devastated if she were to die this way, and he had only just started smiling again…
Hollow. That was the only word Mumbo had known that might describe Grian and Scar when they returned from the games. Facades, stitched together and polished by the best the Capitol had to offer, the very picture of Capitol beauty with none of what mattered left.
Scar had smiled and joked that hey, at least they had taken the tits while they were rearranging his skin to cover the fact that his leg had been mangled beyond recognition by a trap once meant to hold a fully grown bear. Mumbo had laughed. It hadn’t been funny in the least.
And while the things Scar said rarely failed to make Mumbo feel sick to his stomach, it was Grian’s silence that disturbed him.
That had come to a head one evening when Grian had torn the prosthetic eye from its socket, hurtling it so hard against the marble walls of his house in the victor’s village that the plastic had cracked. A new had arrived within the week.
Mumbo coughed and hacked, pain wracking his body as the smoke clawed on the inside of his throat and his lungs.
Stupid, stupid Mumbo. He had known the chasm was here, he had seen it on his adoptive father’s maps of the district enough time that he should have known to run the other way.
Granted, it had been more than half a year since he had last stepped foot in the mayoral office, when his father had disappeared overnight and his uncle had been put in charge of District 12 in his stead.
Xisuma’s brother had never been fond of either of them, and he paid little mind when Mumbo simply moved into one of the many spare bedrooms in Grian’s house in the Victor’s Village after they returned from their victory tour of Panem.
Officially he had become Cub’s apprentice, the district still needing medicine even though their one apothecary was now living with his cousin-nth-removed in luxury.
Unofficially he and Scar had finally talked again, combing out the tangled knots of their relationship and what it could even be now that Grian and Scar were only alive because of their status as the star-crossed lovers in the eyes of the citizens of the Capitol.
Mumbo loved Scar enough that he did not mind only holding Scar’s hand in private, did not mind how Scar looked at Grian in public view and in quiet moments at home when he thought no one would notice, did not begrudge Scar a single bit of the patience and space he needed before he was ready for Mumbo to kiss him again.
Scar, in turn, had not minded how Grian latched himself to Mumbo, how Mumbo and Grian would share a bed when nightmares kept them awake, and how Mumbo could not help but blush whenever Scar spoke of Grian.
In another world, they might have spent years dancing around the issue before they developed the emotional maturity to recognise that there was love enough between them for all three of them to share.
In this world, however, they were not afforded the luxury of time. It had felt as though Mumbo had only just gotten his two favourite people back, only for it to be announced that in a few months time, he would have to see at least one of them leave again, off to compete in the 75th Hunger Games as the only two living tributes in District 12 apart from Impulse, whose experience as a mentor was the only thing standing between Mumbo and the very real possibility that both of the boys - the men - he loved would return to him in a coffin.
Mumbo sobbed at the thought, then sobbed again when he continued to shake, muscles tensing and untensing around broken bones and ruptured organs as the morning sun rose to greet him, crimson red through the not-so-distant fires consuming his home.
Surely Grian and Scar were dead by now. The games… Mumbo was not politically savvy the way his two partners were, but he knew well enough that they had been supposed to die in the arena.
“Go,” he begged Jellie again, the burns on his face stinging as salty tears ate away at them.
Scar wouldn’t want her dead. Scar wouldn’t want anything, because he was no doubt dead in a box somewhere far, far away in the Capitol, but he wouldn’t have wanted her dead had he been alive.
The fires were close now, the air so thick even Mumbo’s desperate attempts for air seemed to yield none.
No one would miss him.
It hit him just then.
He was going to die, a broken body left to rot or burn in a chasm by a broken District. Grian and Scar would die too, his father had been dead for months. No one would even know that he was gone, just one name on a dizzyingly long list.
Silly, silly Mumbo, running back into a town doomed to burn to save a dead man from a broken heart. Pearl had been right, he shouldn’t have gone back.
Oh, Pearl! She would know he was gone. How had he managed to forget her? He felt he ought to know but his mind was providing nothign but static.
Another pang of guilt. He had promised Grian she wouldn’t be alone once, and now she would, all because he had been too sentimental. Because he had been too slow, clinging tight to Jellie as he watched the hovercrafts take off. Because he had taken a wrong turn, getting himself thrown into this stupid chasm by one of the countless bombs that had devastated the only home he had ever known.
“Go away,” he hissed at Jellie while he still had air left in his lungs to do so. “Shoo.”
Jelliw finally rose from her position at his side, earning herself a wet sob when her fur rubbed against one of Mumbo’s burns.
She yowled back at him, a familiar tone of complaint that most often harbingered-
Mumbo cringed when the first drop of rain hit his ruined skin, but instantly felt a wave of relief as water cooled his burns.
Soon the air was clearing too, his breaths less ragged but just as wet as it travelled through his ruined chest.
His one good eye fixed on Jellie as she sought shelter under an outcropping of rocks, looking expectantly at him, unaware that he couldn’t move to join her.
For now he was enjoying the relief of the rain anyway. His burns cooling, fat drops of rain slipping between his cracked lips to wet his tongue. He was certain he was far too calm when he congratulated himself on the fact he would likely bleed out rather than die of thirst.
Above him the fires hissed and sputtered, and for the first time since the alarms had sounded, he allowed himself to disengage from the situation.
His mind floated to the town he had grown up in. Would any of the Merchant’s Sector still be standing? He very much doubted it, given how long the bombs had continued to shake him to his bones and make his teeth clatter even after his tumble to the bottom of the chasm.
If any parts of the Seam were still standing it would only be because it covered a far larger part of the town than the Merchant’s Sector ever did, most of the houses barely able to withstand normal wind and weather.
Mumbo had called the Victor’s Village home for the past several months, but he found himself hoping it had been destroyed as well. There was nothing left for him there, even if he had held any hope of surviving.
Mumbo opened his eye with a start realisation: he very much did not want to die.
Silly thing to forget, really, but as had been established Mumbo could be rather silly.
He must have been drifting in and out of consciousness, because by now the crackle of the fire had grown distant, leaving a deadly quiet in its wake. The rain had stopped, and the clouds cleared enough to allow him to see the last rays of the setting sun painting the sky bruise purple.
He heaved in fresh air, his whole being shivering and shaking with the cold rain soaking his broken body.
His eye drifted to the side, to where Jellie was lying on her paws, watching him intently. She had a cut on her ear he had not seen through the haze of the smoke, but seemed otherwise unharmed.
Here were his choices:
He could stay where he was, dying of exposure or to his wounds.
Or he could try to move, and at least die somewhere slightly more dry and comfortable.
The choice would have been easy to Grian and Scar, he thought. Grian would have clawed his way out of the chasm by now, and not even death could have stopped Scar from holding Jellie in his arms.
To Mumbo it was far from simple.
See, Mumbo didn’t want to die, but he very much didn’t want to be in pain either and he had a feeling moving would hurt a great deal.
His mind was hazy, something that had been vivid earlier unclear to him now. Why did the thought of Grian and Scar make his eyes sting with sticky tears?
He didn’t want to leave them…
With a sob Mumbo realised he really had no choice at all.
“Jellie?” he asked. “Get Scar, won’t you? I need you to get him… I need you to get Scar so that he’s here when this is over.”
Jellie for her part stood and stretched, and that was enough to convince him that somehow the cat had understood his pleas.
Okay. This was it…
He flexed his toes but otherwise had no luck kicking against the ground.
No other thing for it, then…
If pain had weight the one that hit him must be hundreds of tons.
His lungs screamed for air, seizing as he dragged himself one little bit forward. The bone clicked in his arm, but far worse was the white-hot burning radiating through his spine and into his legs.
He wouldn’t have made it much further than half a metre when he collapsed against the wall of the chasm, his ears ringing… or perhaps that was simply the screams echoing through the chasm?
With each thundering beat of his heart panic spread further through his body, seaping into every muscle and every fibre.
“Help,” he called, voice hoarse and throat dry. “It hurts.”
A noise from above his head. A flicker of hope.
The rain had washed the blood from his face, at least enough that he could force his other eye open and locate the source of the sound. Jellie, despite her age, was quite athletic and had made it almost all the way to the top of the chasm.
Well, it wasn’t help, but it was a start, right? Jellie would run home and get Scar, or Grian, or maybe even Xisuma. Someone would find him…
The sun rose and at some point in the night Mumbo had stopped feeling the bite of the cold - in fact the chill dew on his skin was quite refreshing, as was the trickle off water next to his head.
He couldn’t move to drink it all, but with a tilt of his head he was able to gulp some of it down, soothing the dryness in his throat.
The forest was so quiet today. Mumbo had only ventured beyond the fence with Grian and Scar twice in his life, but what he recalled most clearly was how alive it had been compared to the stifling settlement they called home.
There were no birds now, no rustle of the wind in the leaves, not even the distant sound of hares and other small animals skittering through the forest floor.
Mumbo’s stomach churned. Was that roast meat he could smell on the wind? When had he even last had something to eat…?
He wished his clothes were not so heavy. If only they were lighter, he might be able to move and remove his shirt. When had the sun become so warm?
He tilted his head to drink more water, mud and ash sticking to the sides of his mouth.
The moon, too, was warm tonight. Mumbo had never known it to be as much before, but nonetheless, it was even warmer than the sun had been. He felt as though he was burning up.
The stars were so bright, as bright as Mumbo had only ever seen them through his father’s telescope. It had been the nicest thing they owned, the lense scratched but still functional enough that he had been able to look through it and dream himself far away.
They moved oddly, reflecting in the helmet of the person standing at the top of the chasm.
Their language was garbled too. Mumbo never knew there were animals that looked like people in the forest…
He blinked, tilting his head a little for a better look.
The person-animal recoiled and Mumbo wanted to shush it, tell it he grew up sheltered in the Merchant’s Section and had no idea how to harm it even if he wanted to.
It made another garbled sound. Except…
Except…
“-Nd a survivor. I repeat I have found a survivor. Requesting urgent medical attention.”
The person-animal - who may in fact just be a person, come to think of it - climbed down the side of the cave.
First they removed a glove, revealing pale skin, and then their helmet. A cascade of red curls fell out, framing a young woman’s face.
“My name is Gem, Scout for District 13. Can you hear me? Can you tell me your name?”
He blinked, certain he ought to know how to respond to that. His tongue, however, remained unyielding.
“Mumbo! MUMBO! Let me go! I need to see him!”
Mumbo wished he had the energy to turn his head and look up and see the owner of the voice, but he was simply too tired.
“Get him out of here and start working on getting a stretcher down here, I think his spine might be broken,” Gem said over their shoulder. Their tone was far softer when they turned around and spoke to him. “Mumbo? Is that your name? Mumbo, listen to me, you need to hang in there. Whatever you saw during the bombing of 12 could be very valuable to the resistance, so you have to hold on a little bit longer so we can get you to a doctor.”
The bombing of 12…
Mumbo knew he should feel something. Panic, grief, anger, anything at all.
In reality, he just felt tired.
“Grr… ggi,” he tried.
“You want Grian?” Gem asked. “Sure, sure. He’s on his way to the hovercraft and in a moment you will be too. I’m just going to give you something for the pain and the fever, okay?”
Fever? Since when did he have a fever?
A weight on his chest lessened a little, relief flooding through him as the dull throbbing of pain he had been feeling from his everywhere began to subside.
“Don’t fall asleep,” Gem instructed. “You might get a little tired but it’s very important that you don’t fall asleep.”
Mumbo wanted to open his mouth to tell them that of course, he wasn’t going to fall asleep. Instead he blinked and a moment later he was somewhere new. It looked like home, looking like the Market Square, only not at all. The Market Square should be bustling with late afternoon activity, judging by the sun being in the west. The market Square was surrounded by buildings on all sides, whereas this place barely had any rubble worthy of being called ‘walls’.
There was a mask over his face, one that reminded him of his father’s breather, its edges digging into his flesh.
“Let me go this instance or I swear I walk - and don’t think Scar won’t do the same. We both care about him and- Mumbo!”
Grian’s face entered his view. The Capitol liked to style him in a way that made him look older than a mere seventeen, but that was not the reason Mumbo could see no trace of the boy that had once sat next to him in school barely more than a year ago.
His one remaining eye was dark, clouded by unbridled fury.
His gaze softened a little when he sat next to Mumbo.
“Can I touch him?”
Yes, Mumbo wanted to say. His body felt so wrong, cold and hot and numb and aching, all of it all at once. He wanted Grian to hold him, wanted Scar to join in as well. Come to think of it, where was Scar?
“If you’re careful.”
Hold on, that voice was familiar. Cub? Why was Cub here? And where was ‘here’ anyway?
That train of thought died as cold lips pressed against Mumbo’s temple. Odd, Grian normally ran hot.
“Hey.” Another kiss, this time on his forearm of all places. Then again, it was one of the few places that didn’t tingle with pain… “Thought I’d lost you for a moment,” Grian whispered, one of his fingers trailing over the part of Mumbo’s arm he had just kissed.
The world shook, and Mumbo’s body went slack with pain.
“Gently,” Grian hissed over his shoulder. He looked at Mumbo again, and he looked so very human. “Be gentle… Mumbo? Mumbo?! Mumbo, you have to-”
If Grian actually told Mumbo what he wanted him to do, it was lost somewhere between the humming of the world around them and the static in Mumbo’s ears. His eyes had slipped close, and for the first time in days he felt safe to rest.
Mumbo was aching.
That was the first thought that crossed his mind. Next was this: he was not at home in the Victor’s Village, nor was he in the small apartment in the Justice Building that had been his childhood home.
The bed was too short for him, the linen too coarse, and most offensive of all there was an incessant beeping next to his right ear.
Heavy footsteps - familiar ones at that - approached and a door swung closed with a whir.
Right. The door opening had woken him in the first place.
He opened his eyes and had to blink when he saw the familiar face of his dead father.
“Xisuma?” he tried to ask, the name muffled by the mask sitting on his face.
“Oh, Mumbo, thank goodness,” his adoptive father said in the same tone as he would normally use when Mumbo came home half an hour late after taking the long way home from school with Grian and Scar. “Grian, he’s awake.”
Mumbo strained his eyes, only barely able to make out the bright red colour of a familiar sweater.
“What?” Grian, too, seemed to just have woken up. “Oh! Mumbo!”
A chair scraped across the floor and a moment later Grian came into view too.
“You’re alive,” Mumbo tried to say, trying to enunciate the words as much as he could with his mouth being as dry as it was.
“We could say the same to you,” Xisuma told him, pushing a lock of hair out of Mumbo’s face just as he had done when Mumbo first came to him at age seven. “I don’t know if you have the worst or the best luck in the world. Falling down a ravine like that, and staying safe from the fires and the bombs. Do you know the scouts only found you because Jellie found them and insisted they follow her? She’s getting a well-deserved rest now, but you’d better thank her when you’re up and about again… or well… Well, yes, when you see her.”
Though his father’s rambling was a comforting background noise Mumbo had missed dearly, one thing stuck out to Mumbo.
The bombs. The fires.
“12 is gone,” he shuddered.
“Some of the people made it out,” Xisuma told him. “The ones smart enough not to go running back after lost pets.”
Oh, had he really done that? Mumbo was certain he must be blushing with sheer embarrassment.
He couldn’t bring himself to regret it, though. Scar would have been devastated if anything had happened to Jellie.
Scar.
The thought struck him and the beeping sound increased.
“Gri?” He asked. “Where’s S…”
Mumbo choked on the words, his throat aching from the smoke he had inhaled and the dry air flowing through the breather covering the lower half of his face.
Grian waited for him to finish coughing, his hand resting on Mumbo’s right arm as a steady presence.
“He’s okay,” Grian told him, though the waver in his voice told Mumbo otherwise. Grian had always been a terrible liar, and Mumbo knew him far too well to believe him.
Judging by Grian’s expression he realised this too.
“He’s alive,” Grian corrected. “The Capitol have him. But we’re already looking into saving him. We’re going to get him back, Mumbo, I swear. You came back and he will too…”
Grian rose to his feet, kissing the same part of Mubmo’s forehead he had earlier.
“I’ll fix it all,” Grian promised him. “The two of us, we’ll find a way to bring him back, even if it means burning the Capitol to the ground.”
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pluralthey · 9 months
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is there a good place to start if we want to learn about idletry? im very interested in the story and all the bits and pieces revealed so far but i dont know if youve like, stated the basics both about the characters-in-story and how you’re releasing the comic
hi there. unfortunately, idletry became a passion project very abruptly and many details were added very quickly without regard for how long the project would take. once i did realize how large the project was, i decided that i would not even kid myself on the idea of holding in spoilers for the next 5 years, and those two factors combined make the information available very chaotic and slapdash -- somewhat intentionally.
i don't even have the comics tagged separately for easier access among the idletry content -- although, i could go back and give them a separate tag.
i can summarize the story and say that it's about a funny little talking honey badger/tasmanian devil named jessie gaylord who has for the last 10 years of her life been on heavy psychiatric medication in an attempt to mitigate a pervasive delusion that the world is a fictional story. she also has a notorious aggressive streak. these medications work primarily by leaving her so tired that she sleeps most of the time.
the story begins when her medical team has run out of typical medications to try, and they must order an older, more aggressive type of drug which is not commonly used anymore, and has a lengthier process to manufacturing and approving the drug. during this time, she is not on any medication, and she becomes more urgently fixated on convincing people that the delusion is true.
she ends up attempting to contact the writer, who is referred to as God, and she receives a response. she immediately attempts to write the story herself, and she's granted the ability to do anything within the story so long as she can write it out. (the intricacies and limitations of this power have been elaborated upon in a bunch of fragmentary posts, so i won't try to condense it here)
at the end of the first act, she kills the first writer and becomes the new God of her world. the rest of the story is about what she does after acquiring omnipotence, and it heavily features a character named fate -- or shiloh, as jessie calls her -- with whom she enters an intimate relationship.
she has a happy loving family composed of a father named adam, a mother named evelyn, and an older sister named emily. there is a later minor subplot about a cult following who worships her after she becomes God, and this cult is initially organized by an ant called samanthuel -- or samwich, as jessie calls them. these are usually the other characters i mention and i am too lazy to link them right now
the comic itself is currently being written. the script stands at around 51,000 words at the time of writing this as i work on the second act. after it's written, i will let it simmer for a few months and then write a second draft to start to relieve the story of its bloat. depending on its length at that point, i will either need to write a third draft, or i will start drawing the comic.
chances are, during the second draft, i will start to thumbnail or sketch scenes which receive little to no editing, as i know they will likely remain relatively unchanged even through multiple drafts.
the sketch strips are to tide me and an eager audience over in the meantime, but they've sort of dried up as i focus all of my attention on finishing the first draft and taking care of a puppy that was kind of just forced onto me.
i've made a couple of full-length comics before and they have taken years. it is, unfortunately, just the nature of the process. for idletry, i plan to self-publish the comic. i've never published something in print before, so that is the most daunting part for me.
the plan at the moment is to crowdfund this, but, to be frank with you, i no longer pay rent, and i care very much about having this comic as a printed book. i have no issue with paying the cost of printing out of my own pocket by the time it's done and am even anticipating that outcome ahead of time, despite having a pretty reliable audience by now.
i'm on the fence about releasing a digital book version, as i very much want to retain digital color versions of the pages that are more vibrant, but due to the explicit adult content of the story, i don't want it to be free-access.
tl;dr: it's about a lesbian incel with anger issues who's given omnipotence.
i'm still working on the story because i want it to be good.
i'm planning on printing it as a physical comic book once it's done.
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xiaosorbet · 10 months
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you try to get kaveh to stop working so hard, only to find that he’s not exactly doing work. (kaveh x reader)
1.5k words, no warnings, fluff, reader and kaveh are roommates, written with kind of a college au in mind but nothing specific is mentioned, gender neutral reader
“don’t you need sleep?”
your voice resonated throughout the small bedroom, accompanied only by the scratchy sounds of pencil against paper. your roommate kaveh sat at his desk, focused on some assignment of his.
“no.” his tone was blunt and sure, leaving little room for debate, although the eyebags settling below his tired ruby eyes begged to differ.
you rolled your eyes from your place on his bed. you should’ve expected that answer.
he didn’t look up from his work at all. he was encased in his own little world with his work - although trapped seemed a more fitting word. he spent countless nights just like this: working on a project last minute either because he had scrapped his previous work on the grounds of it being imperfect (to you, everything he came up with seemed fine. amazing, even), or because his inspiration had conveniently only chosen to appear right before a deadline.
a helpless sigh left your lips. you continued to lie on your stomach, watching him with your chin on your palms. he was obviously tired. it seemed the more tired he was, the more stubborn he chose to be about not taking a break.
it was always hard to get through to him on nights like these. bribery, trickery, words of persuasion… none of them worked. each time you tried to coerce him away from his work, seeing him grow more fatigued by the minute, his determination and complete and utter stubbornness won out.
your concern for his wellbeing as his roommate and friend was always clouded by his desire to not only meet expectations, but exceed them and constantly deliver perfection even at the expense of his own health.
but tonight, you would have none of that.
“when is that even due?” you asked him, once more trying to get his attention. if it wasn’t extremely urgent, then you wanted him to get the rest he so sorely deserved, even if he didn’t agree.
a pause. you saw his eyes dart to the side, away from you. “…around this time tomorrow.” he said it haltingly, as if he was a little unsure.
you raised your eyebrow. “will you be busy the whole day tomorrow?”
“well, no… but this is really important. it needs to be perfect,” he turned to you then, resting his cheek on his knuckle. he blew out a small exasperated breath, like a frustrated child would.
and here he was once more trying to justify his simply ungodly working hours with the fact that it needed to be the best. in your ever-changing lives, that was one constant you wished he would break.
feeling somewhat fed-up with his uncompromising will to work himself to death, exhaustion clear as day on his face, you stood up and approached the desk. “let me see it.” you were sure that whatever was on the paper was more than good enough already. he was always too hard on himself.
as you moved closer to his workspace, he sprung into sudden alertness, the hand where his face had been resting moved away, and he covered whatever he had been sketching with both his forearms. you furrowed your brows in clear confusion. he had a sort of deer-in-headlights look on his face.
“kaveh?”
you stared at him, waiting for an explanation. he remained still, arms not budging, eyes looking everywhere but at you.
“come on, i’m sure it’s already amazing. and even if it isn’t, you still have the whole day tomorrow to work on it. you clearly need some rest.”
“but i-” he began. his arms moved towards himself, pulling the scattered bits of paper closer to him, farther from you. you didn’t let him finish speaking.
“tut! no buts. show me.” his behavior wasn’t too unusual; sometimes he’d refrain from showing people the rougher, less coherent of his ideas. but you didn’t care whether it was fully fleshed out and polished or just the messy beginnings of a concept. everything he spun with his mind and fingers seemed to capture you. nothing he did was imperfect to you.
you wished he’d see that, especially during times like this. “i’m sure it’s already amazing, just like everything else you draw.”
“that... that’s not… i…” he stumbled over his words as a faint blush, soft and pink as a flower petal bloomed on his cheeks.
taking advantage of his momentary discomposure, you quickly leaned in and seized a piece of paper from underneath his arms, ready to shower his work with compliments in hopes of convincing him to take a break from pressuring himself so much.
rather than the scribbled words and architectural sketches you were expecting to see, your eyes were met with none other than yourself.
rough sketches of you from the neck up, drawn from different perspectives, this angle and that. all in kaveh’s unmistakable style. you’d know it anywhere, the quick strokes that seemed to move faster than his own train of thought, like his hands knew exactly what to do. except you had never seen it like this, lines moving and curving into each other to form a portrait of a person—of you.
you were speechless. the drawings were beautiful. artful, even. for one thing, you were stunned because you didn’t know he was capable of something like this. and for another, the subject of the art in question was you.
in the time you took to stare at his drawings, kaveh had stood up and watched you silently, waiting for you to say something. you’d expected him to jump up and grab the paper immediately, but it seemed that despite his initial adamance in not letting you see it, he now wanted to see your reaction.
a flurry of emotions flutter around in your chest. mostly bewilderment; the fact that he drew you… and so… beautifully… was this how he saw you? was this really how you appeared to him?
“kaveh… did you do these?” you knew it was stupid to ask, but you wanted him to confirm it nonetheless. when you turned to look at him, he immediately averted his gaze.
“yeah, i did.” his voice was quiet and shy, so unlike the usual confidence he had when talking about his works. he seemed now like a child bracing for judgment.
you tried to move into his line of sight. you wanted him to look at you, to see how you felt about it. to see the astonishment and amazement in your eyes when you spoke. “i love it. why did you try to hide it?”
finally, he met your eyes in earnest. his face reddened once more. his usual loud and bright demeanor was replaced by something softer, more fragile. “isn’t it obvious?”
you shook your head, but it seemed that your body was aware of something your mind hadn’t caught on to yet, a warm flush creeping up your neck and your cheeks. he stepped towards you and held onto one end of the paper. you unwittingly breathed in his scent. you encounter it every single day, every time you pass by him, every time you do the laundry. but in that moment, the smell of him suddenly felt much more intimate.
“look, it’s not finished. they’re just rough sketches.” he glanced at the paper before setting his gaze on your face, looking at you sheepishly. a bittersweet smile played on his lips. “i want to draw you to perfection. i want to capture the way i see you in all of its entirety. these don’t even come close.”
and there it was again, his ever-present perfectionism. it confused you; why would he put so much effort into drawing you?
and suddenly, the answer came as quickly your question had. kaveh’s face inched towards yours, his eyes holding desperate meaning, like he could read your mind and was trying to answer with his expression.
kaveh, he…
“it’s already perfect,” you mumbled. you found yourself in a trance, lost in the emotions held in his gleaming red eyes, yet still wanting to reassure him. “…everything you make is beautiful.”
“not nearly as beautiful as you.”
all of this was to get him to rest… you knew what was happening, but you couldn’t let yourself forget that he needed a break still. eyebags still sunk underneath his eyes.
and yet… while you wanted him to stop working so hard—real work or otherwise—part of you now felt that you just wanted him all to yourself.
and so what you did next was what you’d later call a stroke of genius, a master stratagem to achieve both of your goals. not only that, it was also an expression of what you couldn’t quite put into words just yet.
you leaned in and planted your lips gently against his.
despite the tiredness you knew he was harboring, you felt his lips move to form a little smile as he kissed you back. your heart fluttered in pleasant surprise. you felt kaveh’s grasp on the paper wane before he let go completely to cup the side of your face instead.
after a couple seconds of chaste kiss against smiling lips, you pulled back and he grinned at you, his face lit up with joy, all but forgetting about his earlier discontentment. you smiled back at him before reaching to place the paper back on the desk behind him.
“now… how about a break, hm?”
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crystallizsch · 4 months
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I FINALLY FINISHED MY TWO SILLIES
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these are my two yuu ocs (in different yuuniverses for different purposes but things about them might overlap and be similar)
(used game assets from alchemivich for the references!!)
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Quick Notes about Yuusha:
I have her set in an AU where where NRC is more like a university (so everyone is at least 18).
I made Grim more cat-like in this yuuniverse just for fun :3
She existed solely for oc x canon ship art hfjjdjd
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[💜|| 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐀 (she/they) ━━━━━━━━━━━━✦
Forcibly brought to Night Raven College by the black carriage for unknown reasons. She is enrolled as a student with a feline monster named Grim as her “familiar” — her magical half to compensate for her own lack of magical ability — and was appointed the prefect of Ramshackle dorm.
Yuusha is the witty and sarcastic prefect who is not afraid to be open and blunt with people depending on the situation (which sometimes lands her in trouble). Despite having purely platonic affections with her relationships, she also has a pretty flirtatious personality. However, that facade usually fails her.
Grade: Freshman Class: Class A (No. 9) Age: 18 Height: 5'8 ft / 172 cm Dominant Hand: Right Homeland: Modern Earth Club: None Best Subject: Music Hobbies: Sketching Pet Peeves: Touching anything that feels filthy Favorite Food: Noodles Least Favorite Food: Garlic Talent: Playing instruments
Trivia:
Coffee addict™ and refuses to sleep unless necessary.
Can be very affectionate with people whenever she starts to vibe with them.
Her memory is abysmal when it comes to small things so she makes little notes to remind herself of things.
Yuusha is very fond of Grim. Treats him more than a "familiar".
Often gets her food from Scarabia as long as she helps to cook, and is totally not an excuse to hang out with the Scarabia duo.
Works part-time in Mostro Lounge, a desperate choice to earn some income.
Gets anxious during formal events despite her attempting to keep a straight face. This especially happens during ceremonies in the dark mirror. They remind her of orientation which was really not the best memory.
She generally remembers bits and pieces of her past life but could not remember the specific moment before she got taken by the black carriage.
Extremely homesick despite the hazy memories.
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Quick Notes about Yuuna:
Yuuna is my first Yuu OC!
I initially took a lot of "canon Yuu" inspirations for this one but eventually they somewhat became their own thing :D
I made Yuuna into kind of a "blank slate" so I can be more flexible with them when it comes to just random stuff.
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[🩷|| 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐀 (they/them) ━━━━━━━━━━✦
Night Raven College’s sole magicless student and the prefect of Ramshackle Dorm. They live on campus with their only dorm member, Grim, a direbeast who wants to become a "Great Mage”, who they are also enrolled with as a single student as a package deal.
Yuuna is the flamboyant prefect who wears their heart on their sleeve, always choosing to be kind unless there’s a rare circumstance that it’s no longer a better option. They are generally unfazed by everything and is able to keep their head on their shoulder when necessary.
Dorm: Ramshackle Grade: Freshman Class: Class A (No. 9) Age: 17 Height: 5'6 ft / 168 cm Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous Homeland: ??? Club: Gastronomy Club Best Subject: Master Chef Hobbies: Taking photos Pet Peeves: Being reminded of being magicless Favorite Food: Anything with chocolate Least Favorite Food: Anything spicy Talent: Fast-learner
Trivia:
Have zero memories of their home world. 
They share Grim's appetite. And they are very protective of him because he is basically like family to Yuuna.
Generally prefers to avoid conflict but would pick a fight when necessary, especially when it comes to their friends.
It is easy for Yuuna to grow attached to others and befriend them.
Yuuna only grew to like taking photos after being given the Ghost Camera, taking photos of everyone and everything.
Yuuna considers Heartslabyul their second home in NRC. They love everyone there.
Because Yuuna can't remember anything, they and the freshmen decided that NRC's (EN) founding day would also be the same as their birthday.
Even if Yuuna preferred gender-neutral terms, they are apathetic to how others refer to them. They also like to express themself as more feminine.
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(thank you if you've decided to read this far ♡)
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ribbononline · 1 year
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Oh yeah! Since I have no clue if/when I'm ever finishing these and I've had them laying around for forever by now- here's the adult IT metaverse outfits I've made! They're all based on their ultimate personas and the concept of heros! Since these were made for an aged up p4 cast, these aren't quite what I'd put their during p4 time selves in- some changing more then others- but if you wanna follow me into design details, that'll all be under the cut!
First off to get em out of the way- Teddie is very largely the same as his p4 time metaverse outfit I made for him back here . The design is still meant to be inspired by magical girls, but the biggest change is that while the old one was meant to look like a magical girl protagonists outfit, this one I tried to lean a bit more into the older/more experienced cast member of the magical girl group type design. Overall a pretty minor change (and I will admit, largely because I'm still incredibly happy with that old design) but it felt fitting!
Chie and Yukiko were, as always when I work on them, designed to match. Their masks specifically mirror eachother with the opposites sides sticking out, and they both have a golden dragon pattern on their clothes as a reference to the twin dragons move! Chie was... honestly one where I had to sacrifice my goals a bit. Like mentioned before, these were meant specifically for an aged up cast. And while p4 era Chie I would absolutely imagine in a kung fu Chung-Li type outfit, we know what a more mature version of her action hero dreams look like; the police! And I.... really did not want to put her in a cop outfit, Ill be real. Instead I just tried focusing on making the outfit look more mature. Also tried to combine a practical and strong look with a more feminine aesthetic, since she struggles pretty badly with her femininity in p4 and I like to think she'd grow more comfortable with her own brand of it over time!
Yukiko is perhaps one of the most drastic one for changes compared to her younger self- if you asked me to design a p4 era outfit for her, it would look nothing like this, hah. Anyways, she's definitely inspired by onna-musha! Compared to Tomoe who was a full on commander of an army going out there, for Yukiko the idea was more the women taking up arms to protect their home when the battle comes their way. Fully having embraced the role she has as the next owner of the Amagi Inn and the responsibility and want to protect it, it's meant to be somewhat of an outing of that!
Fun fact: She has two color schemes! Because uhh I did not know what to go for at all. Her ultimate persona is like a single solid color and I kind of panicked and just ended up winging the colorscheme. One is more red since, y'know, thats her color! The other is more white gold to match her actual persona better. Included at the end of this post for the curious
Rise was based on a greek goddess- though not any particular one, moreso how they're commonly depicteed in art and old statues. Pretty, holy, someone you'd go to for advice and help (someone just out of reach from the general public) It just felt like a good combination of something she'd like to be seen as and percieved as as well. She gets two outfits- for scan and fight mode! Kouzeon has no canon fight mode, thats just for Himiko, but man it exists in my heart. The transistion between the two is literally just her throwing off the long overskirt, hah.
How does her mask work? Excellent question. The p5 idea of having it there when vibing but gone when the persona is out feels a little awkward when her persona's whole thing is putting a visor over her face. Quite frankly I have no idea. Sorry folks. Have all concept sketches for the outfits I've done as compensation with a bonus Noot in there that I never continued on and finished.
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mrsundays · 6 months
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TADC GANG REDESIGN
I finally finished the redesigns. It took me a long time, but they are done, and that's all that matters. Now I'll proceed to talk about each of them because if I don't, I'll implode.
I approached the designs with the idea of not straying too far from the original designs, although I can't deny that I went a bit overboard with Pomni's design.
AND NO, THEY HAVE NOTHING UNDER THOSE CLOTHES, ZERO, ABSOLUTE VOID, LITERALLY LIKE A BARBIE OR KEN. But who knows, maybe one day I'll wake up feeling crazy, ahem.
POMNI:
She has undergone the most changes compared to her original design, the most noticeable being the hat. The reason is simple; I find it funny that the hat itself is larger than Pomni, making her look even smaller than she already is, which brings me to the other change.
This Pomni is much smaller than the original, reaching only to Ragatha's shoulders compared to the redesign, which barely reaches her waist.
The third change is the suit. The only things I kept were the pattern and colors, along with the bells on her torso. I liked the idea of giving her a design that constantly makes her appear smaller than she is, with only her head and forearms visible. Now she wears a "tunic" that also serves as a small skirt. In addition, her sleeves and pants are now loose, not to mention a more prominent "collar."
Finally, the pupils - one is red, and the other is blue, both accompanied by black. I don't have many reasons for this; I just liked how the black looked in her pupils when I sketched it, so I decided to keep it in the final design.
Now, a few details or ideas I have:
The bells on her suit make little sounds when she moves. They're not very loud, but somewhat annoying.
Pomni remains just as nervous and anxious, but now a bit more aggressive and impulsive. Why? Who knows.
During the first few weeks at the circus, she develops an intense fear of physical contact. Not only because of the strange sensation her own skin gives her but also due to other events that I can't talk about yet.
She's quite elusive, like a cartoon mouse. This is the only reason she can land punches on Jax without him expecting them.
RAGATHA:
SHE'S THE SAME, SHE'S THE SAME—There are only a few changes. To be honest, I really like the original design, and I didn't feel the need to change much. So, I decided to add a few more things because I enjoy adding silly details that end up saturating things, haha.
The most noticeable change is the white apron. Now it has certain seams all around her body, from her arms to her face, including her neck. Lastly, a small bag hangs behind her with all the tools a seamstress needs, out of necessity, like herself.
Other than that, there are no other significant changes to her design.
Now, with the little details/ideas:
Originally, she was slimmer, but after a small adventure in the circus, she discovered that firstly, she had polyester fiber filling, and secondly, if she added a bit more filling to her arms, she gained more strength.
Yes, she has the kitchen knife/machete, not just to scare a certain rabbit but also to cook meals sometimes with Bubble, the meals they eat after their adventures, with all the affection a ragdoll can give.
She once tried, along with Gangle, to make clothes for Zooble. It didn't turn out well...
Currently, she is the second-longest-serving person in the circus, only surpassed by Kinger. That's why Jax sometimes calls her grandma.
GANGLE:
Same as with Ragatha, her red ribbons and mask are intact, with the only additions being the French beret befitting an artist of her caliber and a small cape that covers the top part of her ribbons. I don't have much else to say; I didn't have many issues designing her—it was just something I thought fit perfectly with her personality.
Little Ideas :D :
As the entire fandom agrees, she's an artist and probably watched a lot of anime before ending up in the circus. Yes, she has one of those pillows with a character printed on it in her room.
Every now and then, she draws the circus members, including Jax, and gives them as gifts. Although she has currently put this practice aside due to recent abstractions...
She has been in the circus for less time than Jax, and despite everything that has happened, she has been enjoying her time in the circus more than she expected.
She can take any form with her ribbons as long as they remain connected to her mask.
Pomni asked her to teach her how to draw. The reason wasn't given, but Gangle gladly accepted.
JAX:
The purple rabbit, yes, he was a bit more complicated. Originally, I had the idea of giving him a shirt with a vest—a contrast between formal wear and his asshole attitude. However, I ended up discarding that idea and decided to go for a 60s fashion style.
The beret was something I seriously considered almost at the end of his design, and at least in my opinion, I think it works well with the rest of his clothing. I had to keep the jumpsuit; it was too characteristic, so I had to work around that piece, leading to the integration of the turtleneck sweater.
And finally, I made him furrier, and yes, he has a tail—a fluffy tail that he doesn't let anyone touch.
Now, you know what's coming:
See that pocket on his jumpsuit? It serves as a hammer space, so if he wanted to, he could store something comically huge there.
He's the best at carnival shooting games. No one has managed to beat him even once. The only one who used to give him competition was Kaufmo.
Don't tell anyone, but he has Gangle's drawing saved. He thinks it's a cute detail, but no one can find out, okay?
Before Kinger's wife's abstraction, he used to play chess with him or accompany him on bug-hunting missions, mainly with the goal of finding one to bother Ragatha.
Once, Zooble called him a furry. Jax locked himself in his room for three days because of that comment.
ZOOBLE:
Zooble… was the main reason I took so long with this. I spent days trying to think of any changes, anything—giving them clothes, didn't like the idea; maybe changing their form, nope; a total redesign… no. And so, I was stuck for days until I decided to change absolutely nothing. They're perfect as they are.
But, but, but in the end, I made a few small changes. I decided to play with the idea that Zooble is a toy with removable parts, and none of the parts are from the same toy brand; some aren't even made of the same material, with their right arm being the prime example, a ragdoll arm with filling, something similar to Ragatha.
Also, now they have a built-in voice box in their torso. You just have to pull that light blue thing on their chest, and you'll hear a phrase that varies between "I love you," "You're the best," and "Friends forever."
I won't repeat myself with this, huh:
They were the one who had been in the circus for the shortest time before Pomni's arrival.
The limbs they have now are not the original ones; it took some time for them to find a combination that was comfortable to move with.
They strangle Jax at least twice a week; it has become a habit.
They dislike the lake, mainly because they don't have aquatic parts, making swimming very difficult for them. Plus, they have lost some parts at the bottom of the lake. Caine returned them, but something tells them that the ringmaster gave them duplicates.
KINGER:
He's perfect, simply that. His original design, despite being simple, I think is one of the best in the series. But I had to do something, so I decided to add two very small things.
First, a ring. No need to explain; I think it's quite obvious what it refers to.
And second, a belt to highlight the excellent figure he has, even if that belt isn't his…
Don't bug me, you already know what's coming:
Sometimes, he hums a song when lost in his thoughts, but it seems like some parts of the melody are missing.
He has managed to create a small encyclopedia with data on all the bugs he has captured, even with drawings made by Gangle at Kinger's request.
He knows what you are.
He takes long walks around the lake on his days off, perhaps in an attempt to revive memories of a better time, although he says he does it in search of an aquatic specimen to add to his collection.
Sometimes, Caine challenges him to an arm wrestling competition. Oddly enough, he effortlessly manages to beat the AI.
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