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tar-quin · 1 month

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i activated photo mode the exact moment higgs was about to throw a grenade while standing in one of those tar pits and uhh got some neat pics out of it

managed to clip it too

thought that his line of sight was off since he was jesus walking on the tar's surface and therefore didn't see me or something

but i noticed that he reaches for his grenade as im making my way towards him and the lunge attack probably wont trigger while that animation is playing

ive baited him into blowing himself up a couple of times by running close like this before, making him throw a grenade basically at his own feet and i couldn't understand how he never tried to punch me until now

#death stranding #sam porter bridges #higgs monaghan #ds posting

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gladfang · 11 months

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i think a lot about maxwell's actions in don't starve because its undoubtably a form of escapism and reclaimation of power, as well as projecting his suffering onto others. like finding him at the end of adventure mode and discovering this great imposing figure has been reduced to a miserable, exhausted, withered old man whose only alive because the things that trapped him in the first place are using him as a conduit... it's so brilliant. and its so upsetting. and its daunting, finding out who you thought was behind everything was actually just as powerless as you, and no matter what you do, no matter how many cycles, its inevitable you'll do it all again. maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday the cycle will repeat again

#i dont really understand how charlie comes into the lore ill be honest. i need to catch up on that still #but i actually prefer don't starve where it ends with wilson stuck in maxwell's position and there's nothing he can do #youre just left there. youre told the cycle will repeat and thats it. you wait.#ds posting #idky it took me years to care about don't starve's lore but ouuuuuuuuuugh

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ilangbuwan · 11 days

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Divine Strangers Update!

Read Now! Divine Strangers Chap. III

A/N A lot of lore revealed, but only if you know what's coming.

Synopsis. Whether by sheer misfortune or divine grace, five vastly different teenagers find themselves trapped in a strange new world.

*psd used Magic Island PSD by meliamess

Nagmamahal, ilangbuwan 🧡

#ds posting #buwan rambles #mako goe #aaron cohen #holly danvers #atsuhiro young #lacy garcia #original fiction #writing #novel #wattpad #ilangbuwan

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redstarsystem · 1 year

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Headspace team meeting ft Dave, Jay, and Karkat! + some Dave/Karkat snuggles both drawn by Dave a few weeks back but reposted for fictive Friday over at @fictive-culture!

#fictive friday #art tag #ds posting #kk posting

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p2ep · 2 years

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Send his ass on a strange journey

#krestel speaks #EDIT: this post is about Shin Megami Tensei: Strange Journey for the nintendo ds #btw if you care

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revasserium · 27 days

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A request for the prompt "Stolen kisses" + Zayne!! Thank you so much :D

also I love your writing SOO much <3

prompt list reqs are: temporarily closed

49. stolen kisses

zayne; 1,720 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", whipped!zayne, implied sex, but still very saucy, zayne is hornee 24/7 and hes not afraid to show it

summary: 3 kisses, some stolen, others willingly given

a/n: i believe in my heart of hearts that zayne is barely keeping it together around the mc

one. After dinner, when the pair of you are cleaning up and your sleeves rolled up to your elbows, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you back into him as he presses a kiss to your neck before trailing his lips up to your cheek. Your laughter rings through the kitchen, folding around the pair of you like wings. His smile is soft, is radiant, is tender and absolute as he pulls back to regard you with his searching eyes.

“Good dinner?” he asks.

“The best,” you answer, grinning as you trail a finger along his jaw to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Good…” he breathes the word against your cheek, leaning in, the ends of his bangs tickling the skin of your face. You make to pull back, but his arms loop tighter around your waist, pressing you close, holding you against the solid cool of the marble countertop.

“But we haven’t yet had dessert.”

Heat flushes up your neck and up, up, up till you can feel your face burning, as you blink up at him from beneath your lashes, feigning innocence.

“I didn’t know we had dessert planned on the menu.”

His grin goes sideways, his eyes taking on a darker, more dangerous light.

“It’s not always planned but…” his voice trails off as a tingling shiver races up your spine, “It is always… considered.”

And then, he leans in to kiss you — and he kisses you with a hunger that has nothing to do with the scrumptious meal you’ve just shared and everything to do with the pulsing heat coalescing between your bodies as he lifts you up onto the counter.

He kisses you like he wants to ruin your mouth for all other tastes but him; he kisses you as if he’s already been ruined by the taste of you.

two. It is unprofessional; you know — and so does he — to do this here, with your back pressed against the wood of his office door, his white coat slipping off his shoulders, his glasses nearly knocked askance by the force of this kiss.

You’d always known that just beneath his smooth, tempered glass facade is the kind of roiling heat that makes up the heart of the earth, the kind of passion that licked at the mouths of volcanoes and rends the sky into nothing but a devastation of ashes.

But here, now, the only rending is his fingers pressing into the dip of your waist, the only devastation his tongue as it traces along the inside of your teeth. You hear yourself make a low, wanton noise and feel him react, his fingers tightening impossibly, his mouth ever and ever more demanding.

“Z-Zayne… we —” but the words die on your lips as he drops his to the bare skin of your neck. You can’t help the gasp that tumbles from your mouth, nor the sudden flash of memory — crystal clear and sharp, as if carved from ice — of the night before, when he had sunk his teeth into your bare shoulder and twisted your hair with trembling fists. It had been pain and impossible, improbable passion. All urge and fire, desperation and need.

“Shhh…” Zayne murmurs against your skin, groaning softly as he finds your lips with his own again. And you are helpless all over again. Weak against the burning need of his embrace.

A soft knock shocks both of you from the frenzied passion soaking through your bones, threatening to blot out your good sense entirely. You pull apart, gasping. From the other side of the door comes the muffled voice of a nurse -

“Dr. Zayne? Your next patient is here. Shall I let him in?”

Zayne hisses out another breath before pulling away.

“Yes, just give me five minutes - finishing a report.”

You can't help the amused grin that tugs across your lips as the both of you make to tidy the slight mess you've made.

“So… I'm a report now, am I?”

But Zayne only regards you with a light, challenging look, quirking his brows.

“No.”

You blink, confused. Then Zayne smiles.

“We’re nowhere near finished.”

A fresh wave of heat crests up into your cheeks as you purse your lips, casting your eyes anywhere but Zayne's pleased face.

“Unprofessional,” you accuse, through the word lacks any vehemence, marred by the extensive blush still coloring your cheeks.

Zayne straightens his impeccably pressed white doctor's coat before taking three swift steps into your space, his chest nearly pushing against yours. He reaches out to tilt your chin up towards him and you feel a hitched breath caught like an insect in amber, suspended perfectly between your lungs and your throat.

Slowly, Zayne draws his thumb across the plush of your bottom lip. You feel his breath fanning across it like a wave of summer heat, found at the heart of winter itself.

“Only in front of you.”

He pulls away just as another gentle knock comes at the door, the nurse's voice announcing the arrival of Zayne's next patient. Zayne casts you one last lingering, meaningful look before gently nudging you aside to pull open the door, the vision of a young and promising doctor as he greets his patient with a small smile, the other hand guiding you towards the opened door.

"Don't forget to take your supplements,” he chides in a voice just gentle enough to inform polite company of his fondness for you, but nothing in it would hint at the indiscretions that had been committed only minutes prior.

"Okay,” you say, ducking your head as you brush by the middle- aged man blinking at the pair of you.

"And… see you at home.”

You only manage a nod and a squeak as the nurse chuckles behind her hand and the middle- aged man makes a soft noise of understanding.

three. You are both eighteen, and teetering on the edge of adulthood — though he’s already well on his way to stardom.

“Congrats — on the Starcatcher Award —“ you feel your throat catch around the words, and suddenly, your mouth is dry, your cheeks hot, your fingers twisting behind your back as you rock on the balls of your feet.

Zayne watches you, his expression thoughtfully blank, but his eyes — they’ve always been his tell. You meet them and search them and feel the fire caught behind them. His Evol might be ice, but… his soul has always been something that burns.

“Thanks,” he says, and you can almost taste the unsaid words bubbling just at the back of his throat. You wish he would tell you, but there’s a depthless chasm cut into the air between the pair of you, rough and jagged and —

“Do you know what I received the award for?”

You blink, startled. You purse your lips, looking away. It’d been too painful, too much to look into it, the knowledge of his brilliance always nipping at your heels like an unruly dog. It had pushed you forward, yes, but only out of the fear that if you let up even one single step, he’d race too far ahead and… leave you behind.

“N-no — I haven’t —“

“For my research on congenital heart defects in infants.”

The world slows, tunnels, and tilts around you. Your eyes jerk up to meet his and there — you see it, the blistering heart of all his so-called fire — and you remember suddenly that if it’s cold enough, the body starts to process the sensation as heat. That ice and fire are not so different.

That ice can also burn.

You find your own hands clutched just above where your heart beats inside your chest and you see his eyes flicker down towards them.

“Zayne —“

“I start work at a clinic next week.”

A frown creases at your temple.

“Our first appointment is on Tuesday.”

Your frown deepens.

“What do you —“

“To qualify for the Hunter Program, you need a medical verification of fitness. And… a primary care physician.”

At these last words, his eyes finally cut away. And here, in the dying light of his brand new living room, the sunset turns his glasses opaque for just a second. You’re left blinking in the aftermath of that light, the afterimages will be stained behind your eyelids for hours after — just that look, the firm line of his shoulders, the determined set of his mouth, his jaw, the softness in his fingers as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering against the bend of your cheek.

“L-Lying on reports would be a medical malpractice suit waiting to happen,” you say, your voice shaking with either delirium or emotion, you’re not sure which.

Zayne quirks an eyebrow, “I have no plans on lying.”

“But —“ your fingers clench at your chest.

“I’m just… confident in my own skills, that’s all.”

The shadow of a grin twists his lips and he turns back to you, his eyes cast in threads of molten gold.

“Oh… of course,” you let out a soft breath of laughter, toppling back into the sofa and tossing your arm across your eyes. A moment later, you feel the cushions of the sofa sink beside you.

“Hey, look at me.”

You drop your arm and turn, your head still pillowed against the back of the sofa. Zayne’s gaze flickers over every aspect of your face before he reaches out to take your hand in his. Slowly, he leans down to press his lips to your knuckles, letting his lips linger there till you make a soft, questioning noise at the back of your throat.

He looks back up with a knowing smile.

“Shall we get something to eat?”

You jump to your feet, “Y-yes! My treat — a congratulations gift!”

Zayne considers for a moment before sighing, “Alright, but just this once.”

“What, we’re not allowed to go out to dinner now that you’re a certified doctor?”

Zayne’s mouth twitches with amusement as he reaches for his coat.

“No, we’ll still go out for dinner — you’re just no longer allowed to pay for them.”

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fathomlessgaze · 2 months

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artistry: you paint colors all over zayne's skin before he has to leave

very suggestive mdni + maybe some fluff+angst, zayne/reader, ~1.2k

warnings: 18+ only, making out, lots of hickeys/marking/bruises, they're both possessive tbh, an innuendo, implied to take place before medical rescue with allusions to things discussed in it but no spoilers for what happens in the card itself, allusions to foreseer lore, use of yn, pet names (my love, darling)

an: zayne in turtlenecks...the dawns shadow card......yeah...

pulling back, you take a look at your handiwork, the colors and splotches scattered over zayne’s neck. with his face tinged an uncharacteristic red and his collarbones no longer an empty canvas of pale skin, you think he’s nothing like the rumors that fly around the hospital. it doesn’t take much at all to reduce him to putty at your fingertips, so long as that person is, well, you.

you lace a hand through his hair, only further tousling the ruffled strands and causing a little groan to fall from his lips. on instinct, his hands fly to your hips, lowering your frame that straddles him to his lap. “yn,” he breathes, “please, hold on.”

he pants as he raises his lowered gaze to meet your eyes, his hazel orbs boring into your own with a sternness that makes you bite down on your lip. “just because i’m not in the hospital this week doesn’t mean i won’t be going outside at all,” he sighs.

pouting, you bring your palm to his jaw, brushing over his cheek. “i’m just…i’m gonna miss you.”

“we will see each other in a few days, won’t we, my love?”

you drape your wrists on his shoulders and lay your head down in the crook of his neck with a quiet sigh. “i don’t like waiting…”

there’s a quirk to his lips at your words and he turns his head to plant a kiss on the crown of yours. “it’s just a couple days, and i’m sure you have a lot of preparations to do at work in the meantime.”

while you know you’re being petulant, you can’t help it. you think zayne and his presence have bled themselves into every part of your life and being. you can’t remember what you did before him, and knowing the frequent power outages near the mountain and both of your busy upcoming schedules, you probably won’t be able to talk much. what are you supposed to do without him? what are you supposed to do when one day feels like a year? when a week brings an air of deja vu that makes a pit form in your stomach, as if you’ve been torn apart without him beside you before?

“i guess,” you mumble, sniffling.

“don’t cry, yn,” he exhales. he brings a hand from your hip to your face, thumbing away the small droplet that falls from the corner of your eye.

“what if something happens to you?” your murmur.

“nothing will happen,” he whispers. “i will be okay; i have done these rescue missions many times before.”

you let out a small whimper as you kiss the corner of his mouth, letting your own linger, your breaths practically becoming his. “promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

even though he tries his best to downplay the way your care and concern reach his heart, you know him better than that, the faintest blush of pink building on his hot cheeks. he attempts once more at a serious expression as you discuss safety, a topic he wishes you would yield more to, but alas… pondering his options, a small smirk sneaks past his attempt to put on a nonchalant facade at your words. “i will promise that…but only if you promise me the same thing first.”

“fine.” you pout, a much quicker agreement than he was expecting. “i promise.”

you lean in close, your small exhale lingering between the two of you before your mouths meet once more and you gently nibble on his lower lip. a small moan escapes him, vibrating through your kiss and to your own body, but even he can’t make you forget your purpose. not this time, at least.

steeling yourself, you put on a stern glare as you pull away and ignore the pang from your separation that blooms in your gut. “your turn.”

he stares with a quiet intensity as you pull away, trying to feign impassivity despite his round pupils that watch your movement carefully, giving away everything you may want to know. taking your fingers in his own, he brings them to his lips, locking eyes with you all the way. “very well then. i promise.”

knowing him, you can predict how his business trip will begin without you there and you shoot him a pointed look. “and the first thing we’re doing when i get there is having a meal together.”

his hand reaches for your jaw and cheekbones once more, cupping your face tenderly in his large palm. “alright then.”

when you finally are satisfied with his response, resting your head back on his shoulder, you pucker your lips to his skin once again, pressing lazy kisses along his jaw. his muscles stiffen beneath you as you continue adding new colors and marks to his skin, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder as he caves in.

“yn,” he warns lowly, the last bits of rationality trying to claw back at what’s taken over the rest of his thoughts. “at this rate everyone will know what we’ve been up to when i get to the base.”

“good,” you hum, the vibrations echoing along his skin. “i don’t know who’ll be there.”

maybe this was always a losing battle.

“so maybe that’s what i want.”

this was definitely always a losing battle, he decides. zayne would like to think he’s very diligent in whatever he decides to put his mind to, but if there’s anything he just can’t do, at least not without extreme difficulty, it’s saying no to you, especially when you give him your signature cute little look or use some of your other equally persuasive methods.

your eyes flicker to his before you resume your work, painting warm splotches along his neck and collarbone. “maybe everyone should know you’re mine. just in case.”

he moans at your words, tightening his grip around your waist, but he admittedly tilts his head, giving you more room to continue your efforts.

a beat passes before you pull away to admire the latest artwork you’ve added to the collection of marks you’ve made tonight. “you look really good in that turtleneck anyway,” you whisper, pressing one last gentle kiss to soothe the spot before moving to the next inch of his skin to tease.

something in your words jumpstarts what’s been hiding, lying low, in the back of his mind. his gaze hardens at your words, his hands finding and squeezing your hips to still you so he can flip you both and is hovering over you. “oh, darling, you better believe i won’t be the only one who will have to cover up marks and bruises.”

sure, he’ll have to get up earlier and do a lot to hide all the work you’ve done on his collarbones for the next few days at minimum…at least until you arrive and can help him conceal all of your “art” on his skin. but there’s no way he’s going down without a fight. and when he plants his lips under your jaw, hovering dangerously close to your pulse point that thuds along to the unsteady rhythm in your ears, you know it’s over for you. it’s gonna be a long night. not that you mind exactly…

#zayne x reader #love and deepspace x reader #l&ds x reader #ive never posted anything like this or this suggestive in my life please be gentle with me 😭#zayne x y/n #zayne x you #zayne fluff #zayne smut #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace #l&ds smut #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #mine #tbh i feel like zayne would be like no marks and then punish you for giving him them anyway #but like idk maybe hes feeling sentimental or smthn bc youre gonna be separated idk that part is up to your imagination

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gladfang · 11 months

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Maxwell pulling so many people into the Constant with false promises but when it comes to Wendy he really does give her her sister back. I’m going to cry

#ds posting

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ilangbuwan · 19 days

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Divine Strangers character posters!

decided to make character posters bc 1. i'm too lazy to write but 2. i'm too stubborn to work on school.

the posters are lore/plot heavy, focusing on the book's 2nd to 3rd act! i also drew the unnamed nation's ouroboros symbol! the placements kinda have meaning—at least i meant it to be that way.

i used canva to put these together. i own none of the images, i simply picked them from pinterest :)) Nagmamahal, ilangbuwan 🧡

#ds posting #buwan ocs #mako goe #aaron cohen #holly danvers #atsuhiro young #lacy garcia #original character #poster #design #art #writing #novel #original fiction

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redstarsystem · 1 year

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sysmates supporting sysmates is something that will never not make me emotional

my brother came with me to my guitar lesson because i had a stressful time last time and helped keep me calm through it and i appreciate him so much

#ds posting

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atsuwumus · 3 months

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𐙚 a little snippet from the rafayel fic I'm working on... lemme know if you wanna be tagged >·<

"Hey, are you okay?"

Your soft voice breaks him out of his reverie and he tries to bring the hand you're reaching out to him into focus. Your palm presses against his forehead, fingertips gingerly brushing away strands of light hair, the furrow between your brows deepening.

"You're looking a little flushed."

Fuck, he thinks. You can't keep doing this to me. Getting so close. You're going to make me do something I shouldn't.

Without warning he grabs your wrists, yanks and hard, until your body is topping forward right into his chest. He's far warmer than you expected him to be, almost as if he's...

"You can't do this to me," he whispers, voice thickened with something you can't quite place as he noses against the crown of your head. His hands are wound tightly around your body, keeping you pinned above him. You can feel each erratic rise and fall of his chest, heated puffs of breath that brush the swell of your cheek.

"What are you-"

"Look at what you're doing to me... Feel..." With slender fingers wound around your hand he guides it between your bodies, past fabric and shaky breaths, skin and sweat, right to where he needed you.

He whines, a soft and muffled sound that scratches at his throat as it escapes. "Why are you doing this to me? Reducing me to nothing but a pathetic mess. Is this all part of your plan?" His mouth finds your pulse point as his voice lowers, octave after octave, until you're sure it's nothing but a low rumble.

"Are you prepared to face the consequences?"

#so excited for this one ehehehe #if I'm lucky enough & work doesn't kill me I'll post it tomorrow <3 #love and deepspace #rafayel #l&ds x reader #l&ds smut #love and deep space smut #love and deep space #love and deep space x reader #love and deep space fic #rafayel smut #rafayel my beloved #rafayel drabbles #rafayel x you #rafayel x reader

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