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#being self indulgent here
spinetrick · 8 months
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dehumanizes your aliens
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mushtoons · 7 months
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no context but here's some sillies
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jadequarze · 1 year
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Monster gfs
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theminecraftbee · 7 months
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There are several things Martyn realizes, all at once, when he opens his eyes:
He is dreaming.
It's one of those in-between dreams, the ones that aren't quite dreams.
He is sitting at a green felted table. It is sitting on a stage. The lighting is dim, and no one is watching, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the stagehands dressed in black, waiting.
He is not the only one sitting at the table. There is a Watcher, draped in purple. There is a Listener, draped in yellow. There is someone he recognizes in a red sweater. There is someone he thinks he should recognize, but can't quite, shuffling a deck of cards.
"Right. What's all this, then," he mutters.
We are playing blackjack, the Listener says.
We are deciding the rules, the Watcher says.
"It's not like we have anything better to do. Honestly, I'm glad you're here. Do you know how boring these guys are?" Grian says, and Martyn decides to quietly file Grian away as a dream-Grian, as opposed to real-life-Grian, so he doesn't go insane and/or stab him when he wakes up. He waits for the almost-familiar dealer to say something. He does not. After another few moments of awkward nonsense dream-silence, Martyn sighs and leans forward on the table.
"Sure, this might as well be happening," Martyn says. "Deal me in. How's the betting work, again?"
"You put your bet on the table. If you beat the dealer, you get to add it to the game," Grian explains. "If you don't beat the dealer, it takes it."
"Yeah, but like, that's abstract, isn't it? What does that mean, exactly, me losing what I bet if I don't beat the dealer," Martyn says.
Grian shrugs. "Don't ask me. To be honest, I'm hardly the storyteller you are."
"Me? Why are you acting like I have any control over these things when you're--"
Are you ready to play?
Martyn shuts up, looks at the Listener, and sighs. "Yeah, sure, I'm ready to play. Why not."
The dealer looks to its left. Grian sighs. "Why are you making me bet first. Again. We should rotate where we're sitting--fine, fine, I know it's an advantage because I'm the worst at this. Uh. Hm. No trading or giving away lives again. Not even as time or something. It makes the dynamics all weird, and I think we could use a nice straightforward death game next time."
(Martyn wants to roll his eyes. Nice and straightforward. Sure.)
The Watcher goes next. I would like there to be deep and wonderful bonds between the players. I would like those bonds to seem unbreakable.
"Coming from you, that's ominous," Martyn says.
Can I not just miss the alliances of the early days? the Watcher says.
"Never left the desert," Grian says, rolls his eyes, and looks at Martyn in commiseration. Martyn just stares back. So sue him, he's a bit more worried about this whole concept than an eye roll and a pithy phrase. Things Watchers want are rarely good.
When the bonds are enforced, they're less interesting, complains the Listener.
Martyn looks over sharply. Hey, wait, he thought--
I didn't say they had to be enforced by rule. I said they had to be deep. Encouraged, as opposed to discouraged.
Just saying. You'll never recapture Third Life.
Martyn swallows. His throat is dry. Weren't the Listeners supposed to be the good guys, here?
Besides, what I want is for each death to be meaningful again. They've felt too meaningless, lately, the Listener continues.
Martyn thinks the dealer raises an eyebrow, but it strikes him he's not exactly sure. Grian snorts. "Meaningful deaths. That's rich for you to say. I mean, I guess they're meaningful sometimes? I don't know, Martyn's the one who understands dramatic sacrifices, I just like killing things."
"Why do you keep on looking at me when you say those things," Martyn says.
"Look, you wouldn't be here if you weren't helping write," Grian says.
"What?" Martyn says.
We're here to play our cards for the story, the Watcher says. Aren't you also one of the authors?
"Me? What? No, I'm--what are you talking about," Martyn says.
Oh, well. I also hope your meaningful deaths make it in, the Watcher says the Listener.
Thanks, even if I disagree on the bonds, the Listener says.
"They hardly ever talk about real, concrete rules they want," complains Grian. "It's easier to understand the consequence if they bring up actual rules. Like boogeyman or no boogeyman."
"We're all just betting on cards!" Martyn says, throwing his hands up. "You're giving me a headache!"
It's your bet.
"Fine!" Martyn says. "Fine! You know what? Screw all of you. I hope this is the last one. I hope we never have to go back to that stupid death game. I hope it's miserable to watch or to listen to or to play and everyone just gives up. How's that for a bet?"
You're no fun.
Is that what you really want?
"Suit yourself," Grian says. "Honestly, if I still had that to bet, I guess I probably would."
"What do you mean, if you still had that to bet?"
"Well, I mean, that's not how blackjack works, is it? I don't just get back my in when I play it."
The dealer nods, and then silently, with a long bony hand, deals the cards.
Grian is dealt the four of diamonds. The Watcher is dealt the nine of spades. The Listener is dealt the five of clubs. Martyn is dealt a jack of spades. The dealer deals itself a seven of hearts. The dealer deals Grian a six of clubs--
"Hey, isn't that supposed to be face-down?" Martyn asks.
"Not here," Grian explains. "They're all face up so we can't touch the cards. So we don't have to. So we can't cheat."
"Who said anything about cheating?" Martyn says.
"Please," Grian says.
The dealer makes a hand motion. Martyn, grumpily, falls silent. He supposes they're playing by casino rules, then. He hasn't been in a casino since--he wouldn't know. Hard to remember anything that isn't this, isn't it? Isn't killing and dying and things out of his control and things very much in his control and, apparently, bizarre dream sequences designed to make him want to strangle Grian.
Anyway. Grian is dealt a six of clubs, giving him ten. The Watcher is given an eight of spades, giving it seventeen. The Listener is dealt a king of hearts, giving it fifteen. Martyn is given a six of clubs, giving him sixteen. The dealer deals its own second card face-down. Martyn stops to try to speak, and then shuts his mouth. Right. Dealer's advantage.
He stares at the numbers.
Grian sighs. "Well, I've got to double down, don't I? Fine. I want the whole 'red lives can kill' thing to be enforced somehow. I don't care how. There's my double down."
The dealer nods.
"Why would you want that," Martyn says blankly.
If we all win, that will be interesting with the bonds, the Watcher says mildly.
Grian shrugs. "I mean, we've enforced red names not befriending green names, but not the murder thing before. Figure we should switch up the game, right?"
"Why?" Martyn says again.
Well, it wouldn't do for it to be boring.
"No, not that. Just... isn't it easier to handle when the rules are laid out properly?"
Martyn throws his hands up, but stops arguing. The dealer gives Grian a face-down card. The dealer moves to the next party at the table.
The Watcher looks over at the dealer and makes a cutting-off motion. I stand.
The dealer moves on. Hit me, the Listener says, and is dealt the queen of diamonds. The Listener gestures to Martyn. It seems I bust. Pity. I suppose there will be no guarantee of meaning, then. Not what I'd prefer.
The dealer looks at Martyn. Martyn looks at the other hands. Martyn pauses.
"Wait, this is like, casino blackjack, yeah? I'm only playing against you, not the whole table?"
"Why would you be playing against us?" Grian says. "Writing's a collaborative process."
Martyn looks entreatingly at the Listener, but the Listener is a little too caught up in the bad hand it has been dealt. Martyn looks entreatingly at the Watcher, but the Watcher just looks somehow confused.
"I was under the impression that, I don't know, you all were adversarial."
Why? All we want is the same thing as you: the story to be told a certain way.
Martyn's not sure if he's furious or just numb.
"Fine. Got a sixteen, don't I? Hit me."
Two of spades.
He's furious. He wants to win against the dealer. He wants to win against everyone. He wants his idea to make it through. He has an eighteen, though. There are only two numbers in the deck that will not bust him, and he's no fool. Hitting on sixteen is a risk enough; if he wants his stupid bet of everything finally ending to make it through, he's got to hold here.
"I hold," he says through gritted teeth.
The dealer silently deals itself another card. A three of hearts. Distantly, Martyn's ears rush. He could have taken that. He could have taken the hit. He could have won. He could have had blackjack, and he doesn't know what the extra payout for blackjack even means in a game like this one, but he could have had it, and he held back, he didn't take the risk, he didn't--
The dealer flips up its cards. Seven, eight, three. Eighteen.
Martyn's heart pounds. A stand-off.
Grian flips up his own card and groans. It's a five of diamonds. "There goes that bet," he mutters.
The dealer makes a sweeping motion around the table. The Watcher smiles, a terrible, terrible thing. Martyn, all at once, realizes that he can't ask again. He can't say 'this is guaranteed to be the last one' again. He backs out of his chair. To the sides, he sees the stagehands change the lighting. A spotlight, on him and the dealer--
"That isn't fair," he says. "It's a tie. I should get my bet back, right? It's a tie!"
THAT IS WHERE WE DIFFER FROM THE HOUSES IN VEGAS, the dealer says, and Martyn's heart stops.
(The voice is familiar. Familiar, but he cannot place it.)
YOU SEE, IN THIS GAME, THERE IS ALWAYS ONE THING THAT HAS AN ADVANTAGE. ONE THING THE STORY IS ALWAYS PLAYING AGAINST. ONE THING, THAT INEVITABLY, AFTER LONG ENOUGH PLAYING, WILL WIN.
There, the dealer looks Martyn in the eyes, and Martyn, all at once, knows exactly what the dealer must be.
AND THAT IS ME.
Martyn stares Death in the eyes.
Then, in a cold sweat, Martyn wakes up.
He does not sleep again for a long time.
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droopywrites · 6 months
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did you ever did a part 2 to jjk dudes meeting their child who’s from the future?
⋆。Part || of JJK MEN meeting their future kids。⋆
Author's notes: I don't think I've posted it! Considering it kind of left my mind and the old draft is gone, but I did write everything I remember here. Also, it's like 3am and I wrote this crying, not proofread.
CW: Swearing, killing, cannibalism(?) like mention of eating people, children.
Pronouns used for the kids: She/her for Geto and It/its for Sukuna.
Part | (Warning, it's from 2021)
Geto
Starting off strong with Geto.
Definitely another girl. He's such a girl dad.
On a regularly scheduled day like always; it was wake up, talk with his connections, mingle with his family, check on Mimi and Nana, see whatever the hell the non-sorcerers wanted, get greeted by a little girl that wasn't supposed to be on the estate...
What the fuck.
How did she even get here? Why is she here?
Geto would stare at this child in confusion and look around, waiting for someone to claim her.
He has a soft spot for children. Sorcerers, of course. Non-sorcerers, debatable.
So, low and behold this little girl running up to him to clutch at his robes. Him trying to pry her off of him with her relieved cries of "Papa! Papa!" escaping her lips.
Papa?
Holds her by the shirt's scruff like a cat and squints, ready to scold her but pauses when he sees her face.
Because, holy shit, that's literally his twin. And suddenly every rare hookup played in his mind.
But no, she looked no older than 3. He hadn't been with anyone at that time, or ever yet. Not that far.
Drops everything for the next couple of days just to make sense of the situation, only telling his beloved family.
Mimi and Nana fawn over the idea of a little sister but are a bit restrictive if it's not a permanent thing.
The girl didn't speak much except for addressing Geto, the twins, oh and you.
You...?
You.
You.
You, who had just returned from your trip overseas to oversee some tasks involving curses.
You, who the little girl immediately ran to and called "Mama! Mama!"
You, who Geto stared wide-eyed at and surprised as you two tried to settle the fact nothing even happened between you.
Yet.
When that little girl eventually left to her own time, with everything still fresh and confusing, Geto eventually approached you.
Because, well, he wanted to see that little girl again.
After few dates, then a relationship, then marriage. Maybe.
Sukuna
Listen, he is NOT spreading those cursed genes of his pre-human/post-cursed-spirit.
Man hates love.
But, during the Heian period. When some stupid kid wandered into his life as if it always belonged there, maybe, maybe, there was something else in that space in his chest but hunger and his definition of love.
So, there it was. Whatever it was. Standing there with large eyes focused on him with a semblance of admiration and malice.
"What are you looking at, brat?"
"You."
The audacity of this thing. He killed it immediately.
And then it came back. So, he killed it again. And again. And... what the fuck.
This little shit was persistent.
His kid. He doesn't know how. But definitely his kid.
A worthy successor? Fuck no, he's not dying or leaving it as some birthright to a hindrance.
Learning of its origins was pretty interesting, to say the least.
"Not a human? I figured. A curse made from me, huh? Someone weak must hate me so much."
That meant a human parent. Or multiple human parents. Gross.
He wasn't getting into that.
The kid was though.
It often visited this village to... eat? Kill? Fight? Whatever makes it happy.
...
The hell do you mean it was visiting its human mother?
It had a mother? It had a mother that cursed him so much it resulted in a personalized cursed child?
He could see it stare longingly at that woman's village and before he could even kill her, his offspring said goodbye.
"I'll see you in the future, yeah?"
And then Sukuna was sealed.
He probably searched for his offspring in the Modern era.
Author's notes 2: Stopping with these two because it's been a while since I've posted seriously on this account, 2 years? Maybe I've gotten better, maybe not. This was the idea but with updated better minds. Maybe I'll do the others separately again, Yuji, Yuta, Megumi, Toge. Just did the adults first. Doing Choso and Higuruma definitely.
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itsfrogdance · 2 years
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pbnmj · 10 months
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i deserve a spider-woman nepal..... miles doesn't have to be the only teen spider with a terrible bisexual mentor (enter my own sketches of the world's most annoying spiderperson, who i fling towards pavitr, complete with a design that's subject to change)
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phoenixcatch7 · 8 months
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In love with the idea of captain marvel being Billy's imaginary friend. Like, it'd be so easy. Early depictions had them as almost fully separate people sometimes, like one soul with two minds, rather than just two filters like we mostly see now.
But imagine a Billy down on his luck, hurt and hiding from police and criminals alike, daydreaming the hours away as children do, taking inspiration from all the superheroes rising to fame, making little stories to play out his dreams of saving the world with a generic action doll he found while dumpster diving once. Most of the paint's rubbed off.
Red's his favourite colour, his comfiest jumper is a bright ruby even after all the grime and washes. Gold, too, it's shiny and warmer than silver! A hero cape is a must, big and eye catching! And he can fly, of course, like superman, and in his daydreams, when he's sore and frustrated after a long day's grind, his superhero is smart enough and knows all the right words to get the bullies to stop without resorting to fighting.
His superhero fantasy is one he spends a lot of time on, the first one he goes for when struggling to sleep at night, and he can picture it so clearly. Captain marvel is big and bright and kind, strong enough to lift the boxes for the old lady up the road who's moving all by himself, fast enough to catch Jamie who fell out of the tree on Saturday and broke his leg and couldn't come to class for weeks. He appears at the entrance to alleys when Billy is cornered, he steps up behind to cover for him when he gets caught shoplifting, he sits at the bus stop with him when it's pouring rain and the right bus doesn't seem to be coming.
And then the wizard comes, or rather whisks him away, and like a magician from a fairytale breathes life into his imaginary friend until Billy feels thrice his size and a million times more invincible.
From then on, captain marvel is a real hero, just like Billy is a real boy, and as one they save the whole city, and then the whole world, and get cats down from trees and help Mrs Victoria move the last of her boxes and she gives them a pinch in the cheek and cookies for the road and sometimes it hurts but it's so much better than he imagined.
#dc comics#captain marvel#dc captain marvel#shazam#billy batson#imaginary friend#imaginary friend au#Billy's great because you can give him the most buck wild adventures with the most self indulgent plots and it makes perfect sense#Batman and superman are out here having mental health crisis no.528 and marvels away having dance offs with gnomes#Billy would fit perfectly into gravity falls he really would#Anyway imaginary friend au is near and dear because it encapsulates that sort of safe fantasy for change and companion ship#And a protective imaginary friend brought to life is going to be just a fascinating character no matter what#And it's the perfect cover for non imaginary cap anyway. Why does he prioritise this kid over everything despite having never mentioned him#Imaginary friends always have to care for their creator! But you can't expect an imaginary friend to do your taxes!#Why is cap so eternally kind and bubbly and a bit childish? That's because his creator is a kid! Duh!#This particular imaginary friend just so happens to have encountered magic and is now real enough to play basketball with asteroids.#He's strong enough to match superman but it's fine he's got a child's heart and an unending protectiveness for humanity.#Just don't try anything with the kid or you're toast.#I love the jl needing to save/help Billy in some way and cap; who's practically the jls puppy mascot at this point#Is just shamelessly and unrepentantly possessive of Billy while being openly wrapped around his finger. Number one fan#Like 'he's the specialist boy and if you don't clap for him I'm going to blow this whole building up' type#Have you read Split on ao3 it's like that. Cap is the most unaffiliated person on the team and then bam Billy is number 1 priority 100%#Go read split if you haven't 10/10#Like it never crosses caps mind to hinder or harm Billy he is Devoted. Platonic God/worshipper except the deity in question is an 11yo#And the worshipper is the closest thing to a deity without being one you can get in dc.#But like a healthy relationship lmao.#It's a soul deep claim with total freedom on both sides and they teach each other love and they're the same person#AUGH
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itsdefinitely · 3 months
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Your wiggly… I want to squish him like a stress ball /pos
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so squishy
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ratective · 1 year
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80s gems winter in eastern europe edition
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sysig · 4 months
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Two big softies(?) (Patreon)
#Doodles#Handplates#UT#Fellplates#Gaster#Flowey#Flowey is still my favourite UT character so honestly a lot of this was just self-indulgent doodles lol#But then - as always - it did turn into Thinking A Lot about [thing] lol#Starting with the classic tho! Flowey friendly-like coiled around whoever he's talking to ♪ It's too fun hehe#I love Flowey getting just a liiiiittle too close and personal to a discomfort degree ♫ He's just being friendly! It's a hug! A snuggle!#He's your best friend so you don't mind right? :) Why would Fellplates!Gaster mind ♪#He's always posed to stage right when I draw him haha - I'm still fond of the one Gravity Falls/Undertale crossover piece I made with him#Anyhow lol - yet more fluffy wings! It's just fun if they're expressive I want real feathers lol#Gaster's face completely neutral but his wings all puffed up and freaked out hehe#Flowey would definitely be able to tell if those are when he chose to wrap around!#If they were just the decorative version he'd fall right off from his own weight pulling them loose lol#Absolutely thinking of the one of Gaster screaming while being vine-wrapped by Flowey haha - he's totally innocent here! ♥#And then a little idea of how each of them react to humans - UkaGaster talks a lot about his general positive feelings for humans#And Fell!Flowey is.....well I have my own thoughts about how he might react to humans now that he's been...himself for a while#There have been Fallen Humans in the time between being locked in the Underground and [now] even in Underfell hasn't there?#I guess none of them would've made it as far as meeting up with Gaster - bit of a dark thought heh - but Flowey would know#Is it selfish? To wish for humans or to keep them a secret from the rest of the Underground? What might happen?#It's interesting to think about! If there were humans then surely Gaster must be aware of the Souls?#But even if not - even if this could be before all that - Flowey would still know about human Determination to an extent - being what he is#It wouldn't turn out well for anyone :) That's what makes it interesting ♪
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magical-wishies · 4 months
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Im sick of them.....like how they're sickly in love with each other!! Get it? (This is the best caption I've ever written /j)
Btw these are all redraws of my art, so if you can, try to guess the originals!
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quinn-pop · 8 months
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dedede gets attached to every small creature he comes across at this point lol
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ride-a-dromedary · 7 months
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Again I know it's supposed to be a haha reference to the turns into a bear when he's too aroused thing, but in again refusing to brush just over the surface of this character: "I must be careful or I'll lose run of myself again. An Archdruid should show *some* restraint." comes across to me as more melancholy than perhaps intended when a. You take it into consideration that several lines imply that Halsin has issues with self control and self servitude, and presenting an "acceptable" version of himself as an outwards facing authority figure, to the point where he brushes over his own feelings, or pushes things that he wants down in the effort to reflect better what others want from him.
And b. Remember that Halsin was essentially just an apprentice when he was forcibly situationally promoted to Archdruid - he wasn't taught *how* to be an Archdruid or trained for it, or mentored; he was thrust into it because they didn't have any other choice. But they needed someone, so he stepped up. Halsin has spent the last century studying and learning things on the fly or through trial and error, and in a position of leadership like that, he is aware that every failure to uphold that mask *counts* and others *are* very much affected. How many times has he muttered that same mantra? Or heard it thrown around? An Archdruid not having control over their own magic is a big deal. Even when he is no longer Archdruid, he still grumbles it to himself. He's been at it over a century and he *still* doesn't feel like he's gotten it right. Even when he is in a place of progression, of trying to gain hold of himself again, those wisps of failure and self doubt still creep into everything. And that's sad to me.
#BG3 Musing#Halsin Posting#haha funny line in response to saucy line that man is about to go feral ooh se- HEY TRAUMA#it's like a med student being promoted to the head of emergency#or an admin assistant suddenly being put in a ceo role#like i know it's a meme scene!! but halsin sounds *humilated* when he accidentally wildshapes during his romance scene#he sounds flustered and embarrassed and is so quickly launching off excuses with a tone that indicates *he thinks it's over*#like he fucked up he fucked this up just when he was *starting* to come into himself again and it never stops#i keep thinking of that one lyric from big thief 'i can't find surrender/and i can't keep control'#and again i'm reading too deep into it but halsin's struggle with failure really is embedded here you just have to...like listen to him#Even when he *says* that there's little point in denying oneself#he does it literally all the time - he did it for a *century*#and i'm not saying he doesn't have fun or not enjoy things but he cuts himself off so early at the root#or buries himself so thoroughly in a self indulgence until it wrecks him and neither of these things are healthy#note that he says as long as others aren't affected - he doesn't say as long as i'm not affecting *myself*#anyway i'm unwell#maybe i was never meant to be archdruid - you weren't! you were meant to protect nature's spirit and roam with the wilds#and yet he still did the best he could and people *admire* him and followed him but he may never come to see it that way#you ruined a perfectly good wood elf - look it's got trauma and anxiety (and larian turned him into a meme and i won't forgive them)
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icedb1ackcoffee · 1 month
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Ecologist!Reader aesthetic | Corrupted by Design | Feyd-Rautha x Reader
You stood out compared to the Harkonnens, in more ways than just one. You wore loose clothing: rich brown pants or skirts and deep greens tied around your torso and arms, sometimes flashes of red or blue—all washed out under any sunlight. You carried with you strange jars and herbs, your dark, sunblocking glasses atop your head if not perched on your nose, your waist satchel stuffed with samples—you must have looked completely alien to their more minimalist sensibilities. “You dress oddly for someone from the Imperium,” one of your workers remarked. “Is it your goal to one day turn into a plant, and not just look like one?”
Corrupted by Design (Rated E)
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landinrris · 2 months
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Unconstrained
Pairings: Lando/Carlos
Rating: E
Tags: Background George/Alex, Grad School AU, Friends With Benefits, Explicit Sexual Content, Service top Carlos Sainz, tender horny, exhibitionist tendencies, slow burn but they're having sex the entire time, Recognizable background characters, A dash of miscommunication, Minor angst but a full happy ending
From what Lando can see through the half-open door, there’s a guy sitting at a large table looking down at his keyboard. All Lando can plainly see is a head of dark hair, his nose, and a large bottom lip. Lando thinks he’s seen the guy around even if he doesn’t know his name. He’s beyond intimidating in a way too-attractive people often are, but Lando’s desperate. The guy’s head shoots up, eyes wide in surprise, when Lando knocks on the open door. He’s probably in the middle of office hours and not expecting anyone to need him. His gaze is as piercing as Lando remembers from the previous few times. “Can I help you?” the guy asks, probably realizing Lando’s not one of his students. And while Lando’s seen him, he doesn’t think he’s ever heard him speak. The sound of his voice is a deep timbre that curls around the English words. Lando wonders what this guy teaches and if he would be allowed to audit the class just to get more of it. Or: Lando and Carlos are in a Ph.D. program navigating both graduate school challenges as well as an ill-advised friends-with-benefits situation that has no chance of going wrong.
Read on Ao3
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