#its humanoid. and fashion

[ribbononline]

Latest Infinite fusion update! Plus the separate files of the corsola/gardevoir cus Im very proud of it haha

#the miltank/garde line was inspired by traditional dutch clothes :] #the version on here is also outdated. the miltank garde line got some extra polish n cheese in the final but its fine #most of these are either bears or gardevoir. or both #im starting to accept im just best at gardevoir haha #its humanoid. and fashion #which i am better at then creatures and pokemon #i am also working on full maqua pmd lines for a personalised playthrough... #ive got archies n maxes lines done actually #just need to finish the admins #pokemon infinite fusion #the uhh #regular gardevoir here isnt a fusion. its a base for ppl to use #but it was actually originally my pmd max lmao #obviously changed the hair n coat here to fit regular gard #but there is a maxie version out there #that will b shared once i finish the rest of the darn team

[captainxandis]

Me, trying to explain the complex systems dragons have instead of genders in my book im writing to my cishet mom: so you see they have a warrior twin and a mage twin but their forms are malleable and dragons often dont choose a gender (as humans understand it) until theyre five or six centuries old, warrior and mage are just how the magic is divided between hatchlings because dragons are born in pairs and-

My mom, teasing me: wow these dragons have a heteronomative nuclear family! Didnt think youd ever write something like that

Me, about to cry: FIRST OF ALL THE MOM DRAGON IS A LESBIAN--

#anyways one of the lesbian dragons dies before the book starts bc thats what triggered the events of the book #BUT #one of the dragons changes gender presentation and appearance everytime they shift into humanoid form #one is dead set against the idea of human genders #one is a lesbian who wants to be a fashion designer for human clothing bc she thinks its cute #like mother the point of this story is found family all of these characters are queer #jean can you n o t #anyways i am very happy w what ive written so far! #but my mom telling me i wrote a heteronormative nuclear family enrages me

[rassicas]

Splatoon 3 artbook is coming! and they gave us hi res sample pages! so i translated them!

I’ve already preordered the book, and since I live in Japan I should be getting it very soon after release. mark my words I’m gonna go crazee translating it i need that Lore

In the meantime, some translations of the sample pages! take a look under the cut:

Page 44, IKIMONO (Living things)

yellow text: Among the living things in the Inkling world, a wide variety of species exist. There are creatures that can take on a humanoid form as well, called "Inklings" and "Octolings", the former being squids, and the latter being octopuses. white text in gray box: The old and the new mix to make the Splatland's youth culture The young people who grew up in Splatsville take pride in being born and raised in the Splatlands, and there is an extremely strong sense of solidarity in the community. They deeply cherish their old local culture, which is unsophisticated and simple, yet strong. At the same time, they like to make fun of urban areas such as Inkopolis for acting like they're "all that". On the other hand, many of them secretly yearn for that sophisticated, high-collar, Inkopolis culture. The current culture of chaos created by the youth with such a flip-flopping mentality is becoming increasingly global.

I’m going to translate these roughly. character select screen outfit, left: lines pointing to reflective goggles, a mask that blocks dust, and the cape. the cape is made from kelp, and is meant to block out sunlight. hero suit outfit, right: the “ultra light earpiece” is so light, it doesn’t even feel like you’re wearing it. The ink display is a digital screen. Boots are meant for rough terrain. Interestingly, agent 3 is holding a weapon called a “Hero Extinguisher.”

the gear on the left is called “hunting equipment”. The earpiece is based on an udon noodle. It’s small, but it has a deep sound (with bass i assume instead of sounding tinny?) Around the neck are cooling pads. The shirt is made from a seaweed fabric. apparently its wrapped around their upper body and kind of hurts to wear. you can see their underwear, but its the kind of underwear that’s supposed to be seen for Fashion. idk what its called but you guys know what im talking about. The ink tank is homemade. in the pouch of the backpack are snacks. to the right are very early concepts.

Page 62, Deep Cut concepts

It’s a lot of handwritten notes with a lot of pointing out what the drawing is, so I’m going to translate roughly.

bottom left is pointing out various things about frye’s head anatomy. small chin, forehead sticks out, thick neck, head curves like this and this etc. middle frye with the bit of green and red makeup is described as having a clown-like feel to it. tiny furthest right drawing is commenting on a specific nose shape concept as “bird-like.” she almost had the same nose as my main OCs what the

red arrows on the right: long arms, long thighs, squared shoulders are pretty. hand in the middle with black text: something like ‘if she has hands with ornamentation like this it makes her hands seem long’ bottom left: the little doodle of the face reads that her ‘mouth is kind of like this.’ the other text talks about how her eyebrows move asymmetrically, as having that kind of variety in the movement is key.

left: she’s saying something about sharks? apparently she was going to be associated with sharks with shiver being associated with eels instead. right: various sound effects. “looking around absentmindedly” “rocking back and forth” “dozing off.” on the bottom it shows her suddenly stiffening to attention.

left: in her left hand, it’s a sensu (japanese folding fan). in her right, its a harisen (the kind of folding fan used to smack people in slapstick routines) gonna be real here the text on the right is too cursivey i cant read it

shiver mask designs. neat stuff.

early design concept.

Page 198, Scorch Gorge

not a lot of text on this page, mostly images, have a look yourself. top right passage: A majestic canyon where the history of the Inkling world can be seen in the strata and rock formations. Many enjoy rock climbing here. There's a spawn point that was once used for ink battles that no-one has bothered to remove.

#splatoon 3 #splatoon #splatoon artbook #splatoon translations

[ccbunnv]

Can we get Tom and Bill + Georg x adriana Lima reader pls❤❤

It's ok if you don't do it!

thats cute ! i wrote this as vs model reader,, err bits of nsfw inside

˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 tom, bill, georg x fem! reader headcanons

✮ Tom Kaulitz

-you and his first meeting was when he decided to attend one of the victoria's secret fashion shows. he sat front row.

-when it was your turn to walk, his jaw dropped. i mean dropped. he was staring at you, open mouth and shit.

-he was completely mesmerized that he didn't even think about the other models. he was fixated on YOU.

-when the show was over, he asked one of his security guard friends to hand you a note with his phone number.

-out of curiousity, you texted him and he responded.

-man was like, punching the air and shit when you texted him.

-you both continued talking and then he asked you out on a date.

-one date turned into two, and two turned into three, and so on.

-he soon became your biggest fan and would attend every show you walked in.

-you would scan for him in the crowd and then blow him the kiss.

-he would smile like an idiot when you would.

-one time you waved to him during a show and reporters caught it, and that's the story about how your private relationship turned public.

-he wrote countless (almost) erotic songs about you and people were began to speculating.

-he fondles your tits to fall asleep.

-he buys all the lingerie you wear and makes you wear them.

-and then he fucks you stupid in them.

-his definition of sexy turned into YOU.

𓆩♱𓆪

✮ Bill Kaulitz

-he was actually dragged to a show by Tom and though he didn't really want to go, he still enjoyed it.

-and then he met you.

-everything in his brain shut off and he was simply staring. you noticed, and blew him a kiss.

-and he was like "holy shit"

-Tom made fun of him the entire time and he's just thinking about you over and over again, even when he was supposed to be asleep.

-he was pretty upset he didn't stay until later to get your number.

-but then he noticed you in the crowd when he was doing his humanoid tour in Italy and was like ":o"

-he was frantically pointing at you (discreetly) to Tom and he was like "yeah go get her number"

-"r u fucking crazy i cant do that"

-"STOP BEING A PUSSY JUST GO GET IT"

-you went to his afterparty and he pulled a lot of strings to get you into the backroom with him.

-you found him cute, the way he was playing with his fingers, and you made the first move via giving him a kiss on the lips.

-and then it turned into a make out session.

-and then sex.

-you did not walk the walk of shame when you exited the hotel, you walked the walk of PRIDE.

-then he started being caught in your shows and then a lot of rumours happened.

-it was supposed to stay rumours, but a lot of things started getting messy so he addressed the rumours.

-you and him were dating heehee

-he loves it when you wear lingerie, but he loves it even more when you wear his clothes.

-he likes to caress your curves and map them out when you hide your body under his baggy shirt, and often times it turns into sex.

𓆩♱𓆪

(its hard to find a gif for Georg, especially for the humanoid era)

-he rarely goes to shows like these, but he was invited so he decided "ok fuck it why not"

-he wasn't all that interested, until you came out.

-he was completely yours the minute you blew a kiss to him.

-he loved how you walked, with confidence and bounce, and every inch of you was perfection to him.

-he decided to ask around for your name and he got it.

-he did his research, and became a fan of yours.

-you and him met again at a celebrity party and he chatted you up.

-he was definitely friendly, and you liked how he wasn't awkward at all, unlike the other men who tried to talk to you.

-you gave him your number, kissed his cheek, and told him to call you before leaving the party.

-the next morning, he did call you while you were eating breakfast.

-a lot of conversations later, he asked you out, and you accepted it.

-there wasn't a lot of rumours, but he did hint at you a lot.

-i.e when a reporter would ask about certain things like, if he was trapped in an island, who would he bring, and he would say, "my girlfriend."

-that was practically all he talked to you about.

-his first priority is you, and if you wanted a private relationship, he would give.

-that meant he wouldn't attend your shows in real time, mostly just watch them when they got streamed on MTV or something.

-sometimes when he sees a certain lingerie you modeled in that he likes, he'd buy it and then ask you to give him a show with it.

-and then he'd fuck you until you couldn't attend any of the rehearsals.

𓆩♱𓆪

#tokio hotel #y2k #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x reader #fluff #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz smut #georg listing x reader #georg listing #smut

[steve-faglan]

Breaking and Entering

Reader x Steve Raglan/ William Afton

TW: NON CON, NON CON, NON CON!!!

Summary: You and your best friend, Mike decide to break into the old Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Restaurant to get high and explore the relics of your youth. It's all well and good until you realize you're not the only ones in the building.

PART TWO: HERE❤️

William Afton was widely known to be involved in the disappearance of several children during the years that Freddy Fazbear's Pizza was open. Because of this, he's renamed himself Steve Raglan and taken on the role of career counselor to ensure a security guard for his life's work.

Not only smart but extremely well coordinated, William navigates the halls and secret passageways of Freddy's today just as swiftly as he did in the 80's.

You'd been to Freddy's back in its glory days. You've seen the animatronics in their prime and even witnessed the tall yellow rabbit mascot that used to walk around, though he creeped you out, so you always steered clear.

Lately, college has been taking a toll on your mental state, so you decide to indulge in some good old-fashioned nostalgia in the form of "innocently" breaking and entering at Freddy's. Mostly you're just looking for a place to smoke a joint and think about anything other than your major you wish you'd switched a year ago.

"Come on, you said you'd go with me. No one's ever there, it's been closed since the fucking 80s, man," you plead with your friend Mike to join you.

"The temp agency just tried to get me to work there!"

"So then there's no security, right?!" You drive a hard bargain or maybe Mike's extremely obvious feelings for you influence all his decisions.

"Alright. I'll be over in 10. I'm putting Abby to bed." He caves and you giggle in victory before hanging up. While waiting for Mike, you roll a few joints, grab your CD player, and slide a lighter into your front pocket. The minutes drag by until you hear Mike's piece of shit car pull into your driveway. You bolt out the door and climb into the vacant passenger seat.

Mike can't help but stare at you for a minute. You're easily the most beautiful person in this town as far as he's concerned, but he can't bring himself to make a move considering his ever-complicated home life.

"Thanks for doing this, dude. School is kicking my ass." You smile at your friend, and he quickly turns away, hoping the night is concealing the blush on his cheeks.

The drive to Freddy's is short and exciting. It's been years since you've seen this place. Mike pulls into the furthest, darkest corner of the parking lot and the two of you devise a plan of entry. At the very back of the building, there are two large loading dock doors. With both you and Mike using all your strength, you get it open just enough to crawl through.

"Jesus Christ, what did I let you talk me into?" Mike coughs away the dust.

"Come on, this way!" You drag him by the arm, the blood in his face rising just from your touch. Anyone with two eyes could see how Mike felt about you, except you.

You and Mike sit on the floor, right in front of the main stage. The four, old robotic humanoid animals still occupy their spots, holding their respective instruments or props. Time has been unkind to them.

You spark up one of the joints and pass it back and forth to Mike. You each share a headphone as you stare into the tall, decrepit ceiling of the restaurant.

"You think the bathrooms here still work?" Mike asks, breaking the peaceful silence.

"Surely they do if they wanted you to work here, right?" You ponder the question further. "Maybe check the ones in the office area." You point to a door that you recall from childhood that leads to the "boring" part of Freddy's. You ended up there by accident and swore you heard screaming, so you never went back.

Mike disappears in pursuit of a restroom, leaving you by yourself on the large, open party floor. You light another joint and stare quizzically at the robots. You become lost in thought thinking about how lonely it must be here, after all this time.

"You've been waiting for an audience, haven't you?" You tilt your head. Mike's taking longer than you anticipated, so you grab the other headphone and place it in your vacant ear. The volume is loud enough for you to imagine the animatronic band playing it. For a moment, everything around you melts away. You close your eyes, reliving a carefree time in your youth.

"Y/N!!!" Mike barrels down the hall. He's sprinting around every corner, tripping and stumbling the whole way in fear and adrenaline. "GET OUT!! GET OUTSIDE!!" He screams, but you can't hear him. You can't hear a thing. Just as he's about to make physical contact with you, he's yanked backward. The large, yellow rabbit that used to freak you out drags Mike behind the kitchen doors before bludgeoning him over the head, knocking him unconscious.

"I thought you couldn't do nights, Micheal?" The rabbit man binds Mike's wrists together and drags him through the same doors as before. He securely fastens his restraints to a support beam and stands. Already a tall man, he towers in the suit. William Afton.

William slowly turns his head, looking right at you. You sit with your back to him, on the far side of the room, closest to the stage. He takes two steps before you glance behind you, wondering where your friend is. Your breath hitches in your chest when you're met with a giant bowtied rabbit. You glance behind him to see Mike's motionless body on the floor. Time's moving too fast to tell if he's alive or not, and you scream again before taking off toward the door.

The rabbit man gestures to the stage and begins to slowly stalk toward you.

"Stay the fuck away from me! What did you do to Mike?"

"I'll do a lot worse if you don't stop fucking screaming!" William's voice is robotic and warped through the automated helmet of the suit. He's inhuman to you. Your mind can't wrap your head around the fact that anyone is in the suit, let alone William Afton himself. You try to silence your wails, but you can't do anything to stop the terrified sobs. All you can do is think about Mike.

"I-Is he dead?" You whimper, in a state of shock.

"Not yet," is all the rabbit says before he advances on you, grabbing you with unnatural strength. Your arms are pinned by your sides and he lifts you off the ground with ease. Kicking and fighting does nothing but bruise you up, but you try regardless. You manage to free one arm, and in your hysteria, you knock the mascot's helmet off his head. The helmet falls with a heavy thud, but it's as if it's muted in the background as you stare at William. He stares back, unfazed by his revealed identity. It almost looks like he's smiling.

"W-W-W-"

"William," he growls before placing his steel-covered hands around your throat while you were too distracted to notice he'd sat you back down. You claw at the lifeless metal and cloth, but slowly, your vision becomes blurry, and then... Nothing.

Mike wakes before you. He recovers quickly as he realizes where he is. He searches for you frantically, but you're nowhere to be found.

"Y/N!" Mike screams, but there's no reply. He's alone in silence for a few minutes before the unmasked rabbit man appears carrying your wilted body. Mike begins to panic. "What did you do to her?!"

"Calm down, Micheal. She's just tired. She's gonna need her energy." William grins, sending a wave of nausea through Mike's stomach. "You should feel lucky, you get to watch." He steps out of the robotic suit revealing clothes similar to the ones he wore when he first met Mike, not long ago.

"Watch what?" Mike raises a brow. William doesn't reply, he just starts cutting the clothes off of your body. "What are you doing?! Don't fucking touch her!"

William laughs at him, licking the entire length of his middle finger and sliding it inside you while he stares at Mike. He continues to play with you, rendering Mike into a livid mess. William shakes his head, amused, continuing with whatever dark plan he's already hatched for the evening.

You have no idea how much time has passed, but eventually, you wake up. You groan as you try to sit up, only to find that you're bound to a tabletop in an X formation with your legs hanging off the side where your knees bend. There's a raggedy drape of cloth over your body and the dry, musty smell is enough to make you sick. You scan the room in a quiet panic, unable to move and truly study your surroundings. Quickly you spot Mike. His left eye is swollen and will surely be blacked by the time you get out of here... If you get out of here.

"Mike!" You try to yell, but it comes out as a strained wheeze after the damage William did to your throat. Mike locks eyes with you and that's when you notice how scared he looks, but not for himself. You furrow your brow and look in the other direction. There stands William. He's out of the suit now, standing over you with a devilish grin.

"Breaking and entering isn't a good look for either of you," William chuckles. "But especially you, sweetheart." William places a soft hand on your cheek. You recoil in fear.

"Don't fucking touch her!" Mike thrashes in his restraints. It's clear to you that Mike knows what's about to happen before you do.

"Please, we're sorry. We won't say anything to anyone, just let us-"

"Don't be cliche. You knew what you were doing and you did it anyway. This is someone's stuff, you know? Someone's livelihood."

"I'm sorry," you sob.

"You're gonna be," William hits the joint he commandeered from you, and after a long drag, he flicks it to the side and begins to unfasten his belt.

"No! No, no!" You plead, arching and bucking your hips in hopes of loosening the cables that secure you to the tabletop. Mike causes his wrists to bleed, but he still can't get free. William strokes his erection as he watches your helpless body writhe under the sheet. You accept your fate, horrified and humiliated, you look away, facing the stage. You quickly notice it's empty and your heart begins to race.

"They won't be joining us. This is for my- our eyes only." William releases a deep, taunting laugh and starts pumping his middle finger in and out of you again.

"M-Mike..." You try to ask for help, unsure of what he could do for you at this point, but desperate to be free. He won't even look at you now. He's slouched over, looking at the floor, trying to drown out the sensual wet sounds coming from William's fingers scissoring inside you.

"He doesn't want to save you, sweetheart. He wants to see you get fucked against your will." With his last word, he heaves the entire table closer to him, giving Mike a front-row seat to the show. Panic consumes you. Before you have the chance to beg for mercy again, William tears the unkempt sheet from your body, leaving you entirely exposed.

"No! Wait, please!" Your fight or flight response kicks in, but you're helpless to do either. The cables strain against the table, but you're unable to move an inch. You look back at Mike. He meets your gaze and the two of you share a knowing look before you feel William slide the head of his cock up and down your clit, soaking it in the arousal your body had no choice but to pool between your legs after the ways he touched you.

"You make it hard to believe you don't want it when you're dripping like this, sweetheart," William taunts. You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed and afraid, unable to watch the blood rise in Mike's face as he watches you get defiled. Just as you're sure William is about to slam into you with no mercy, he pulls away. You open your eyes and glance at him in confusion, hoping he's realizing he can just let you both go and that would be the end of it. But that's not the case.

William bends to knees, placing your soaked entrance right at the perfect height for him to consume you.

"Let's see how difficult I can make this for you." William buries his tongue in your wet folds, flicking the muscle delicately over your violated clit. You try as hard as you can to fight back any kind of reaction, but you fail. A soft, breathy moan slips from your lips like a note from a music box. William laughs against your sensitive skin.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry." Mike hangs his head in defeat, listening to the sounds of you succumbing to William's sensual touch.

"What are you sorry for? She loves it," William smirks before curling a finger inside you, eliciting another explicit moan from you. He regains his standing position and replaces the head of his erection at your pulsating entrance, waiting. "I've needed this. You have no idea how stressful it is to keep a place like this under wraps."

All you can think about is how stress got you here. All you wanted was a smoke session with your best friend in a cool venue, and now, here you are. You're jarred from your thoughts when William's massive erection drives into you. It's abrupt and painful, but your body gushes with arousal to make up for the stinging, pleasurable friction.

"No!" You scream. Mike fights against his restraints one more time, thrashing and sliding his body in any direction he can, but he's stuck. William throws his head back in ecstasy as he plows into you. He's fucking you like he's eating his last meal. Breathless grunts of focused pleasure fall from his chest. His rough, calculated hands find your breasts, toying delicately with your nipples.

You close your eyes and try so hard to escape the reality of the situation, but William lands a hard, heavy smack across your face, shaking you back into the moment. With a stern hand, he grabs your face and forces you to look at Mike. He's red-faced, enraged, and tired. You can't decide if you want him to look at you or not.

Mike mouths an "I'm sorry" to you, but all you can do is stare at him while William picks up his pace. Your vision is unsteady as he jostles you around.

"You've gone quiet. I think I need to fix that." He draws his hips back and in a split second, your eyes widen in fear before he slams into you at full force. A loud, moaning wail emits from you and the humiliation finally tears your gaze away from your best friend. "There she is," William smirks, steadying his thrusts yet again.

"Please... Stop..." You moan between gasps. Your orgasm is building at break-neck speed. The last thing you want is to climax around William's invasive erection, but it seems as if you have no other choice. The hitching breaths in your chest become loud, sultry moans. Your mind is too frazzled to focus on withholding any signs of enjoying him. Tears stream down your face, but you admit to yourself that you don't want him to stop.

Mike looks away for a moment, but can't help but stare at you. Your eyes flutter shut and your back arches so intensely. He watches the 'O' shape your mouth takes and imagines those same lips wrapped around him. He has to shift uncomfortably, hoping to conceal his already obvious bulge. After you've ridden out your high on William's cock, he slowly slips out of you. Taunting you.

William knowingly reaches under the table and unfastens whatever link was holding each of your extremities. Your hands instinctively find your most delicate, used areas.

"Don't touch yourself unless I say so," he snaps, taking your wrist in one of his strong, demanding hands. His riddance of contact allows your mind to clear from the climax and you're suddenly afraid again. A notorious serial killer is making you his toy.

"Let her go, you've had your..." Mike searches for the words, but he's unsure how to describe the vulgar scene before him. "Just let her go, man." He looks exhausted.

"Don't talk yourself out of a good thing, Micheal," William chuckles before shoving you to the ground in front of Mike. You land with a thud, releasing an involuntary whine of pain when you hit the hard surface. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"No! I-" Mike attempts to protest, but William cuts him off.

"Oh, please. You're not fucking her. Probably never will. Now you get to get off on the idea that it's being taken from her."

"You're a fucking monster!" Mike thrashes against his binds, protectively snapping at William like a guard dog.

"You want me to let her go?" William squats beside the two of you. You lie fucked-out and terrified, curling up next to Mike for some sort of dignity. William grabs your hair and sharply yanks you toward him. You release a high-pitched squeal and allow him to guide your head to Mike's pants zipper.

"What are you doing?" Mike shuffles uncomfortably.

"Don't make me wait," Afton snaps at you and you quickly reach a shaking hand for Mike's pants button.

"What are you doing?! Stop, let her go!" He tries to shake your hands away, noticing the waves of tears falling down your face as you already piece together what William might make you do.

"Mike, I-" you're cut off by William shoving your face into Mike's newly exposed crotch. He diligently bobs your head for you, fist still wrapped in your hair. The second you make contact with Mike's cock, he releases a deep, sensual sigh. Small moans fall out of him left and right, nothing he can do to stop them.

"Tell her to stop, Mike." William waits, but Mike is silent. You squeeze your eyes shut as more tears well up. "Tell her to stop, and I'll let you both leave right now." Silence.

"Mike?" You beg, relieving yourself from the forced fellatio. Mike doesn't look at you, he can't. William smirks and shoves your face back to work. He makes good use of your throat as you take Mike as deep as his shaft can possibly go, ignoring any protest from you.

Mike begins to pant heavily. Little whimpers escape his mouth as his orgasm builds.

"F-Fuck," he huffs before finishing down your throat. When William finally pulls you away, you're a choking, sobbing mess. Betrayal doesn't properly describe what you're feeling right now.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry, I- I don't-" Mike fumbled over his words, red-faced and breathless.

"Shut up, now. You had your turn." William lifts you from the ground with ease and throws you against the same table as before. This time, you're bent over it, presenting your ass to him like a trophy to be won. To be taken.

"Please let me go home. I want to go home..." You sob with your face pressed to the large party table. Mike's eyebrows upturn as he watches you cry. Guilt consumes him, and the helplessness of your cries only amplifies that. He's not sure why he didn't tell you to stop, he knew it was the right thing to do. But he was so enveloped in the feeling of your lips bobbing up and down his erection, how could he ever ask for it to end?

"Shhh, you're doing fine, sweetheart." Afton coos in your ear as he leans over you. He's so tall, it's nothing to him. He plays with your pussy for a moment, slipping a long, nimble finger inside you. His eyes roll back in his head as he tests how tight you are in this position. "Perfect."

William slips inside you, fucking you as if he didn't just screw you senseless not long ago. His large, calloused hand comes down hard on your right ass cheek, and a loud slap echoes through the empty restaurant. You release a cry of pain every time he lands a blow, and he does it a lot. You're fucked out, beaten, bruised, abused- everything.

"Plea-" you beg, but another HARD smack to the ass shuts you up.

"Shut up! I'm so... Fucking..." William slams into you one final time before you feel his cock twitching inside you, filling you up. "Close..."

"No!" You try to kick and fight and do anything in your power to stop him from cumming inside you, but it's entirely too late. You sob loudly as Mike watches in horror. William removes himself from you and his handiwork spills from your swollen entrance. Your weak knees wobble under your weight.

Afton looks at Mike and grins deviously before flipping you over and clasping his powerful hands around your neck. The sound of Mike pleading for your life becomes a dull mumble in the background as you slowly lose consciousness. Once you're out, William readjusts his rolled-up sleeves and lands a hard, knock-out punch on the side of Mike's skull.

He dumps you both in the back alley, unsure if you're both alive or dead. He doesn't care, he just doesn't need you here anymore.

Mike wakes up first, placing a gentle hand on his face and wincing at the pain.

"Y/N? Y/N!" He scrambles over to you and takes you in his lap. You're still naked and you're covered in bruises and scrapes, a testament to how hard you fought and how strong William is. "Please wake up. Please wake up, dude. This isn't funny."

You don't move.

"Please wake up! Wake up, Y/N! Wake up!" He repeats over and over, shaking you and lightly tapping your face with his open hand. Finally, you suck in a big breath. The sound of you inhaling causes Mike to jump, but he quickly pulls you into his embrace, relieved to see you alive.

"Mike..." You groan. He quickly sheds his jacket and wraps it around your crumpled form, hoping to give you some sort of cover. The two of you get into Mike's car and head back to your house. The ride back is mostly silent until he finally speaks.

"Y/N, I- back there, I..." He doesn't know what to say.

"I don't think he would've let us go anyway." You stare out the window in a state of shock, secretly reliving the way William made you feel.

"No- that's not the point. I mean-" Mike struggled with his words yet again.

"Do you think he let us live for a reason?" You finally glance at Mike. It's the first time you've looked at him since he filled your throat with an entire friendship's worth of pent-up feelings.

"I don't know, but it doesn't matter. We're never going back there, I promise." He's attempting to comfort you, but something depraved and demented inside you is already thinking about what he'd do if he got his hands on you again.

#tw non con #tw dark fic #non con #fnaf dark fic #steve raglan smut #steve raglan #william afton #dead dove do not eat #dub con #william afton smut #fnaf movie #fnaf smut #steve raglan non con #william afton non con #steve raglan x reader #matthew lillard smut #five nights at freddy's

[heartfullofleeches]

Oh my- whorshipper god??

Oh my- Imagine them encountering reader, the poor human, doing their mundane and casual routine, when suddenly, an majestic being appear infront of them, and reader being an religious person, try's to bow, but before they could ever try-

The being bow to them, not even daring to meet their eyes, ashamed to have appeared infront of the being they consider supreme and in their own vision.

Reader is confused, while the god is ecstatic while apologizing from their sudden appear and the waste of their little humans time (even if I'm pretty sure they don't understand the concept of it since one year must be the same as second to them).

The stars fall from the heavens; whisking across the tinted sky and to the earth below. The universe reveals itself to you in brilliant streaks of whites and blues. A nightly stroll led you to the center of a previously forecasted meteor shower. Your current position gave you the perfect sight of the feat. A smile crosses your face as another crashes from the sky; mind deep in wonder towards what wish you'd like to humor before it ended. In the moment you feel truly at peace, and one with yourself and the world around you. Completely whole.

"Is there a desire you long to be fulfilled, my grace?"

You open your eyes. When had they closed in the first place? The celestials align before your eyes; their shimmer growing brighter as they cluster together. A flash of white light flares in front of you; lingering as you look into the face of whatever stood before you. You assume this to be its face, as you can vaguely make out the silhouette of something within the light. It was as if a literal star was now before you; burning your retinas and psychic the longer you stare. You quickly shut your eyes.

"My sincerest apologies. I forgot my form is harmful to the human mind. Even one such as yours"

The being's face implodes on itself; the aura that radiates from it trapped beneath layers of skin in a similar fashion to a closing umbrella. It shrinks slightly in sizes, but still looms over you; dressed in black robes that remind you of a church attendees formal garbs. Strange patterns were inscribed into their flesh. They make your head spin whenever you try to focus on them; the whisper of a dead language no mortal should ever witness.

Even in this humanoid shell, you could tell this being was a power like no other. A God or like-minded deity with an unknown agenda and you playing part. Your legs buckle as you almost fall to your knees. You are unsure if this is your God, but feel you should coward in its presence. In a bizzare twist of fate, that's exactly what it does to you.

The deity kneels to the ground; head near the tips of your shoes. They hold their hands up to you in a prayer; their voice quivering despite how it rattles around in your brain.

"Forgive me, my lord. For I have crossed your path without permission. I simply couldn't contain myself after seeing how you gazed at the stars. It was utterly spectacular."

You struggle to find the words to speak - something that was already impossible before their speech. This - this heavenly creature was apology? And to you? It must be a trick of your rapidly decreasing mental state. The deity senses your confusion. It drops its hands and fumbles with the fabric of its robes.

"I can tell you have trouble grasping the situation. I do not blame you, only ask that you continue to heed my words. I have existed in your reality since the dawn of your kind. I grew tired of my place amongst the stars, and took interest in watching your kind. Never before have I seen another like you. You've sewn the wounds of loniness in my heart with only your existence. You are a treasure to forever behold. My savior."

A flush breaks across its face; cheeks tinted a faint blueish color. It grows more and more excited with each word that fumbles from its mouth; fidgeting in ecstacy from just being near you. You're still unable to properly respond.

"I know I've taken up much of your time and I am sorry. It Is important to you. I only wish to offer you by service as your loyal follower. The line between reality and fiction will bend to your whim if you allow my aid. I give my all to you, my dear grace."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere god #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #tw yandere #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #yandere monster #yandere entity #yandere teratophilia #gender neutral reader #Dea my oc

[sablegear0]

I was having a little think about Kenjaku's relationship with Mahito and I think I may have hit upon something...

We know Kenny hijacked Suguru's body shortly after Suguru's death on the Jujutsu Tech campus. Whatever Satoru did with his body after that is left ambiguous but we know it wasn't disposed of in the standard fashion (cremated) so Kenjaku was able to get access to it. Unless someone tried to find what was left of the arm Suguru lost in his fight with Yuta & Rika and patch it back onto him before he was left somewhere (let's assume buried or stacked in a cairn in the woods somewhere, left otherwise intact and relatively accessible), Kenny would have taken control of a body with a missing limb.

Following this, "Suguru Geto" returns to his congregation of curse users, bloody but unbowed, minus one arm and probably nursing an understandable grudge over his loss on the campus. It's roughly a year before the Shibuya plan is put into motion but Kenjaku has been planning for ages, and most of the pieces are already in place. He just wants a few more good cards in hand before he sets things in motion. I like to think actual Suguru knew of Jogo, Hanami, and Dagon, though he may not have encountered them directly or didn't know quite what to do with them yet. Given his status and technique, it's hard to imagine he wasn't aware of them unless they kept themselves well hidden until the year Kenjaku presumably approached them with a plan. The Mountain, Forest, and Ocean curses were good allies and good fuel for Kenjaku's borrowed technique, and he easily sold them on a modified version of Suguru's "annihilate all humans" plan.

The unexpected bonus was Mahito, who came into being during that interim year. The Humanoid curse was young but cunning, and came with a very unexpected power. By manipulating the soul of a living being, Mahito could freely alter its physiology. Naturally an easy test of this utility would have been talking Mahito into growing the missing arm back on Kenny's borrowed body, which I'm sure Mahito was more than happy to do to prove himself to his new powerful allies.

Now this is where things get interesting. Because Kenny's vessel is Suguru Geto's body, did Mahito manipulate Suguru Geto's soul to grow that arm back? My guess is yes, because of a brief little instance during the Shibuya incident where Kenjaku loses control of his vessel. When he reveals himself to taunt Satoru Gojo, which arm snaps up to to try choke him? The right one. Probably Suguru's dominant hand, sure, but also the one he lost in his fight with Yuta & Rika. The one Mahito had to grow back by tapping into that body's soul.

Now I'm not saying the whole of what remains of the real Suguru is stashed away in that arm. But I am saying that when Mahito touched the real Suguru's soul with his technique and got it moving, he woke it up a bit, just enough for it to know it was still there. I know a common interpretation of this little event is that protecting Satoru was as natural as muscle-memory for Suguru, and the motion was basically automatic. But what if when Satoru spoke to Kenjaku in Shibuya, Suguru's soul was the part that was awake enough to listen, to try to resist, to prove it was still in there.

So for all you wonderful fix-it fic writers, there's a new angle for you if you hadn't considered it. From speaking with Nanami and Yuji, Satoru must be aware of what Mahito is capable of. Perhaps Mahito's technique could be the key to recovering the real Suguru from within that stolen body...

#sable has a take #sable talks about media #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk analysis #gojo satoru #geto suguru #mahito #kenjaku #satosugu #fix it fic #fix it au #jjk au

[mediadeepdive]

This is gonna be a long read but have you ever noticed how some of the human characters and background demons look either plain or like they don’t belong in the same show? Okay hear me out, because i know the critical community sometimes praises the designs obviously not done by viv. And i wouldn’t be surprised if they look a bit plain to give the animators that deal with viv’s wrist suicide designs a break. But it’s a really subtle way of showing just how bad of a director and artist viv actually is. When you try to replicate her style without all the details, it looks really boring because she only has three body types, and two eye types. It’s also a bit off putting because why are some demons like the main ones sharp, monstrous and detailed, but others look generic. Plus with the humans, some of them don’t look like they’d become demons if they died, their silhouettes aren’t very similar, which makes stolas human look even weirder when his proportions aren’t seen in the humans.

This might seem nitpicky, but even basic shows have background characters that don’t overshadow the main yet look like they all fit in one style because other shows have clear style guidelines while leaving room for varied features i.e powerpuff girls, rick n morty etc. Viv probably can’t direct the animators for shit. It also doesn’t have to be plain if the appeal is interesting details. Rise of the teenage ninja turtles has even better animation! And detailed colorful designs with all characters!, it just knows how to simplify it into base shapes and details that still let the design show through. Here’s one artist take that shows how easy it’d be https://www.tumblr.com/aimasup/716642713709264896/sorry-for-the-gushing-this-banana-is-the-only they have other redesigns too. If she was actually a good artist, but no the HH redesigns for prime look worse and somehow has more details! basically she’s a bad artist and so’s the show. And has anyone noticed this?

this is a worth while read, thank you anon~!

okay- yes let’s talk about Viv’s background character designers, to be fair these guys are REALLY good artists imo. They understand coding, body language and telling stories through the simplest designs perfectly fit for animation.

The reason why they look so off (in comparison of Viv’s style) is just that, these artists are experienced in animation design it’s their JOB-

Viv just got lucky in the animation scene cause normally her art wouldn’t fly. Random unimportant patterns with random rips in every outfit??? Where’s the uniqueness? Where’s the story? They all are the same body shape and same fashion sense which peeves me the most.

These are just her wolves— it gets worse with her more humanoid designs…

The illusion of difference with ✨COLOUR/eyelashes-✨ but seriously… look at their noses and face shape.. the Eurocentric beauty standards zapped her with its laser beams- button nose and sharp jaws.

as for the design you linked it makes me so HAPPY, the deconstruction ? The dedication? This person could definitely have a job in design, it’s a designers job to take away the useless and keep the most important features- to simplify and make sacrifices for the sake of proper turn arounds (which Viv struggles so hard at cause her hair/faces can only be viewed usually in one direction…)

Chad fan-designer VS

Beta Viv who struggles with a 360 turn around…. (Dear lord look at her eye lashes changing size every direction and her hair lines not making any sense—) she’s so lucky her animators made it out alive.

#Vivziepop lacks basic fundamentals #vivziepop critical #Art deconstruction #Art critique #hazbin hotel critical

[unsanctioned-if]

Snippet #3

As promised, here's a small snippet from chapter 1. Please note that it's not completely edited and that wording and content might change in the final draft.

There are three different flavor-text options here depending on the background you've chosen for your MC at the beginning. These are going to pop up a lot throughout chapter one. I decided to include all three of them in this excerpt to give a small look at how they differ from one another.

Aristocrat = A noble upbringing in the capital.

Nomad = A childhood spent with a community that moves from place to place.

Scavenger = The MC was the only child in a ragtag group who search for discarded items to sell.

Enjoy!

“You must be famished,” Cirern stated, not bothering to phrase his words as an inquiry. “Allow me.”

With one swift motion, he gave a quick and quiet snap of his fingers. You waited silently, expecting something to happen. Seconds passed, but the man did not stir again. Though hunger gnawed at your stomach, rendering you tired and weak, you couldn’t help but to wonder whether he was somehow testing you.

You didn’t take note of the faint whirring at first. It wasn’t until it grew into a discernible noise that you turned your head to the side, perplexedly regarding your surroundings. Unable to hold yourself back, you let out a gasp as your eyes found the source of the odd, intrusive sound.

A figure had appeared by one of the room’s openings, though it was no being of flesh and bone. Matted gold clad the figure, reminiscent of armour rather than skin. Cogwheels turned inside of its exposed chest, methodically and cooperatively. The face resembled that of a human, but where a person would have eyes, two hallowed holes stared back. A straight nose and curved, metallic lips completed the face, but you weren’t certain whether the attempt at making it pass as something humanoid made the sight more or less unnerving.

Aristocrat: You knew of these creations, though you had never laid eyes on one other than the drawings included in books. "Automatons" they were called, artificial life created from clockwork, originally hailing from Ciralor to the south.

Scavenger: You had witnessed these types of creations in the past, though never one made in the image of a person and never one that hadn’t long since stopped operating. Scraps of metal here and there, most commonly. If your memory served you correctly, they originated from Ciralor to the south.

Nomad: You swallowed, mesmerized by – or struck with fear of – the strange creature.

“An automaton,” said the man to you in an explanatory fashion. “A machine built to serve mortal men. It will cause us no harm.”

The automaton’s movements were stale and jerking, lacking the natural grace that organic beings possessed. Yet it advanced across the room, towards you, without noticeable difficulty."

#unsanctioned #interactive fiction #if #writing #excerpt #snippet

[throwaway-yandere]

500 Year Long Identity Crisis (Yandere!SAGAU Various/Reader)

A/n: Advanced happy birthday Ayaka/2nd anniversary everyone!!! I put quite the effort into this fic to celebrate lol.

Characters present in this chapter: (Main Focus) Traveler!Aether, Baizhu, Dainsleif. (Briefly Mentioned) Yelan, Albedo, Kaeya, Zhongli, Venti, Abyss!Lumine, Enjou

Cw: yandere self-aware genshin au, "impostor" reader, gn!reader

Unreliable synopsis: The traveler received a strange commission indirectly from a government official. Although, it seems their azure-glasses-wearing guide is far more interesting than the quest itself.

Hysteric Humanoid (Yandere!SAGAU):

Side Story I - The Longest Devout Believers (this short story will be uploaded in a few days.)

Chapter 1 (You're here)

—---

"He who leaves a good name does not die poor. Remember that well, Your Grace!"

------

Everyone you encountered in your travels wondered what you would look like without your azure-tinted sunglasses at some point in their lives. Whether it be random passersby or your "closest" confidants, not a single soul knew what you looked like underneath the accessories you wore. This eccentric trait of yours made plenty uneased, for each time someone tried to pry into your privacy, you were quick to quip more riddles for them to lose sleep over.

As expected, today's appointment with the traveler was no different.

Aether couldn't tell what to make of you when you entered the restaurant. You covet too many cultural accessories, more so than Tighnari's infamous mess of a getup. Yet the only somewhat recognizable article of clothing was the fur scarf around your neck. However, this is only because a certain Mondstadt cavalry captain wore something similar. Only this time, this scarf had more love put into its handiwork than Kaeya's.

At least you balanced his abysmal first impression by offering to pay the bill.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting. They call me "Jianfeng". I'm a temporary tax accountant here in Liyue. It's a pleasure to be working with you."

The traveler noticed your gloved hands extended. Almost every part of your body was covered, indicating that you made a concerted effort in covering everything up. He couldn't tell what color your eyes were underneath those glasses. You don't fit in in the bustling main metropolis of Liyue Harbor, let alone Wanmin Restaurant, and Aether doubted that you'd be able to blend in anywhere else.

You looked like an eccentric Fatui Agent. Almost. But even bad guys in uniform had better fashion sense. Are you trying to look worse than criminals?

The traveler didn't like you right off the bat.

If he were to guess, people “call you Jianfeng” because they don’t know your real name.

"It's... Nice to meet you too." Aether hesitantly shook your hand. His eyebrows furrowed.

Your hands were as cold as Albedo's.

That fact alarmed him.

Not long ago, he discovered Albedo's true nature as a homunculus and met his clones. In that handshake, he felt your flesh holding his, and he might dare say that you have unique human characteristics, yet your rigidness makes you appear more like an entity. Aether eyed you quietly.

What if you were one of them? What if behind your blue-tinted glasses, your eyes are composed of chalk? 

Aether doesn't believe you are human. He had already concluded who you were after this little discussion. You're either a doll, a clone, or an exuvia. However, he couldn't explain why he thought it was the third guess.

"They call you Jianfeng? So, is that not your real name or...?" 

Paimon asked what he was afraid of saying.

He didn't even notice that you already pulled your hand away. Aether's hand was trembling. 

You used up all the self-restraint you had left so you won't narrow your eyes at her. He's already suspicious enough. You know that look well. His sister had that expression, too. Their faces bespoke knowledge and experience that free-spirits have. This is no time to let your guard down.

The traveler is a lot more perceptive than you thought.

You felt a tiny hand grabbing your hood. 

"Do you need to wear all these clothes? You're not weak to the cold, are you?"

You flinched as you came face to face with a starry-eyed "pixie" tugging your earrings like a newborn baby. You gently smacked her away with one hand. Have you been slacking on training so much that Paimon, of all people, nearly yanked your hood off? You must have given her a menacing look since the cowardly critter scurried behind the traveler right after.

She's a lot nosier than you guessed.

"P-Paimon!!!"

Aether's eyes went wide as he slammed his hand to cover his traveling companion's mouth, not even bothering to look behind him. If he wasn't already a famous figure, you would've noted that the two traveled adequately enough for him to hit her lips intuitively.

He may appear shocked, but he is nothing but calm in assessing your character.

So, you don't like it when people grab your clothes. You're hiding something.

"I'm SO sorry about Paimon!" The blonde man squeaked. "She can be a bit tactless."

"No, no. It's fine. I enjoy talking to blunt people." You chuckled. "Makes my job run a lot smoother, especially during busy seasons. Though, I would greatly appreciate it if neither of you would strip away my clothes. We don't have an intimate... friendship."

You shook your head, realizing that your reply sounded like something Kaeya would say.

"I hope you're not assuming that I'm here to talk about tax return preparations. I won't press you about anything related to taxes. Besides, I'm a bit off schedule and I don't have time snooping into your business."

Paimon audibly sighed, Aether not so much.

"So you're not going to ask about tax evasion...?" He muttered.

You didn't quite catch that. "What?"

"N-Nevermind that!" Paimon giggled suspiciously. You've heard the traveler had done around Inazuma and for the sake of keeping his heroic ventures alive, you turned a blind eye in this case. 

It's not like you can jail a video game protagonist for tax fraud anyways.

"I asked for your audience because I would like to hire you for a special commission." 

You cringed for a brief moment before clearing your throat. 

"Actually, no, that doesn't seem right. SOMEONE from The Civil of Ministry Affairs wants to hire you for a special commission, and I happen to be nearby for SOMEONE to dump this workload without consent. I have a life of my own, so expect me to make this quick."

"Civil of Ministry Affairs..." The traveler glanced at Paimon.

"Ooh! Ooh! Is it Yelan?!"

The small creature loved to hog the conversation, but her slip-of-a-tongue proved to be quite helpful in this instance.

"Yes, precisely. Huh, I thought I'd have to make a roundabout excuse as to why I can't disclose who your client is." 

You slid the files onto the table's surface. Aether didn't seem phased by the enormous red CONFIDENTIAL text stamped on the folders and quickly took a look without your authorization.

"You have three days to decide. Look for me at Bubu Pharmacy at around six to ten pm. See you then."

Yelan often visits the pharmacy in disguise, so if she ever doubts you, you might as well prove her wrong. You stood up. You can't be bothered to stay longer, lest you want Mingbo's ire.

"H-Hey, hold on, Paimon can't understand this!"

"Then hire someone that can. Yelan insists that it's an important mission. It's imperative that you must perfect this task." 

Your departure was as quick as your arrival, and you spared not a single second more to entertaining the traveler's questions. 

Was it out of false confidence that he could decipher scholarly pages or pure indifference? Neither Paimon nor Aether knew. What bugged them more was not the fact they couldn't understand the files without Paimon reading through a dictionary for the foreigner, but the proverb you whispered right before you disappeared.

"Remember to paint the dragon, then dot the eye."

-----------

Cursed hands roamed the severed threads of your hood... until they slowly traveled down your neck, squeezing lightly.

"Your hair, your face, your body, your eyes..."

You shivered.

As you've heard, eyes are a telltale marker of neoteny. It speaks for how you've aged without saying a word and expresses everything humanity desired. Nonetheless, you did not pay attention to these sermons. What you heard is nothing more than a dirty craving for eternal youth, similar to a corrupt man's desire to deflower what is absolutely still and Celestia's desire to demolish a prosperous nation.

Man or Heaven– it did not matter which, they all wished you gone.

All you have left is him. For he remains as your soft glow at dawn and the sword at your side.

He spoke into your ear. Strands of his light hair stroked the nape of your neck, enticing you with his closeness. He shades your view of the burning nation in front of you with one gloved hand. Someone as frail as you, in his opinion, should not squander their eyes viewing a despicable final act.

His somber voice was an epilogue– a closing narration to humanity's greatest achievement. 

And Khaenri'ah's end starts with you.

"Every inch of you is under my protection."

His breath was uneven, much like his tearful visage. You did not permit him, but his head rested on your shoulder, soundly defeated. From that moment forward, you were the only person he could touch without feeling guilty about his curse, for better or for worse.

"But we must continue this path. It's far too late to stop…

"I beg you, My Lord. Don't go anywhere without me."

-----------

"Are you sure the traveler will say no? I must say though, you're very bold for tampering with Yelan's files, (Player Name)."

"Stop calling me that," you gritted your teeth. "You know damn well I despise that name, doc."

The person who asked you was a slim doctor who ground some medicinal herbs on the countertop. Considering how he says the name (Player Name) without any thought of divine retribution, he's a bit of a heretic, like you.

The doctor's name is Baizhu, renowned for his work in the Bubu Pharmacy. 

He appears fragile but make no mistake: disagreeing with his methodologies is futile. Baizhu is by no means a friend but you wouldn't want him as your enemy. He's the only one who knows of your "unique" constitution, and therefore the only one who can tinker with your body. At least, the contract says so.

Baizhu met your eyes with a small, scheming smile.

"In all honesty, Jianfeng, your hatred for The Creator will bite you one day. You can't hate them forever."

You grunted.

Yes, yes you can.

The crest of Khaenri'ah rests in your pupils, daunting and pure. Looking at the mirror feels awfully naked without your glasses since your reflection haunts you. The symbol weaved in your eyes echoed the voices of those who were there long ago. 

You were naught but a primordial being shaped like the one that played behind the "screen". You were a Khaenri'ahn offering, an homage to this "player" figure you'll never understand. This flawed birth process is your bane. You were molded into their ideal human Lord, one who wielded power beyond the Archons and Celestia itself...

The Creator. 

(Player Name).

Your homeland revered this one entity. In fact, your master made you in their image, not as a person but as a walking sculpture. Nonetheless, you aspired to be The Creator whom anyone would be glad to share a room with. You worked hard to be considerate and kind... But playing the role of a saint is pointless in the nation of agnostic men.

Khaenri'ahns do not rely on Archons or their doctrines, but they recognize that your very existence was blasphemous.

It would've hurt less if you hadn't deluded yourself that you had a chance. It didn't matter how much love you offered when those sentiments did not reach the masses' hearts.

Because you'll never be their image of (Player Name). Even if you inherited their intellect and insights of the future.

You would've loved your countrymen as they grew wrinkly and unrecognizably older. You would've given them the kindness they deserved. You would've forgiven them for all their flaws. Because you know you see them as who they were.

But why couldn't they have thought the same for you?

Oftentimes you wondered if it was their eyes that stalked you when you first left your cage. More often than not, you lie awake at night wondering what made (Player Name) so valuable and what made this human, an imperfect and mortal thing, more adored than you will ever be. Try as you might in racking your head for an answer, dead men tell no tales.

And where did all the love that you gave got you now? Scared of your own faux body. Paranoid and pitiful.

You just want to be loved. 

By anyone.

"... Jianfeng? Are you crying?" Baizhu said in disbelief rather than concern.

You sniffed and hastily smudged the tears behind your glasses. Baizhu made his way towards you with a hand that eagerly patted your head. Changsheng, who's normally abrasive, slithered on top of your shoulders and gave you a cold hug. They didn't ask why you were crying. You spilled your heart out to him long ago, and he's not a forgetful person, unlike his little helper. 

You snickered weakly.

By the looks on both their faces, you could tell that they know your true identity.

But you don't care.

After all, it was Baizhu who gave you your new name. And "Jianfeng" suits you just fine.

"Me? Crying? You need new glasses." You sniffed.

"Hmm? Oh but darling I think my diagnosis is spot on."

"If I was crying, shouldn't you realize that you're the problem?" You half-heartedly quipped.

His smile faded. Before Baizhu could say anything witty in response, Qiqi, with her stubby legs, opened the door in her tippy-toes. 

"Jian… the traveler is here…"

You gently patted Changsheng's head, silently motioning her to go back to her master. 

"Will be there in a sec."

---------------

Aether was curious as to why you chose this to be your meeting place, but after seeing Baizhu trail behind you, he formed a concrete assumption as to why.

The doctor had a hand draped around your shoulder. You two must have an "intimate friendship."

"Before we give you an answer, Paimon has a few things Paimon wants to ask!"

You expected as much. "Sure, go on then."

The traveler sat in one of the free chairs and you did the same.

Baizhu took a seat behind the counter. Given his frail constitution, he isn't the most imposing man in the room, but his look was something else entirely. The doctor observed the traveler and his companion stealing your attention.

Paimon may be dense, but Aether isn't.

Aether couldn't speak when Baizhu's snake-like eyes tilted like a blade under his chin.

"Are you from Mondstadt?"

"Huh? Er... No. Why did you think so?"

"You have the same scarf-thing like Kaeya– he's The Knights of Favonius’s Cavalry Captain."

You've met him. The Creator knows him as well. They frequently controlled his body before swapping to someone else after "wishing." Aside from that, you two correspond letters frequently. Kaeya sends notices whenever a certain fellow countryman concocts drinks at his brother’s tavern. Hence, you consider him a close confidant.

But you'd rather not share that information.

Kaeya likes to keep his friendship with you as one of his dirty little secrets.

Last time someone found out about you, the cavalry captain knocked him out. You never saw Connor again after that.

"Maybe we have similar tastes. I did visit old Mond before, but that was because I wanted to see the Great Wolf, Andrius..." You sighed.

Paimon quickly moved on. "Are you sure you're a tax accountant? The traveler hasn't seen you on Liyue's list of graduates."

They must have obtained the information through Keqing. That lady has reservations about everything, from your golden shrimp balls to Rex Lapis and The Creator. You were skeptical of her at first, but she welcomes any criticism that borders on blasphemy. It made you wonder why she only revealed that information now and never interrogated you before.

"This carp had jumped the dragon's gate before you arrived in Mondstadt, pal. I studied in Fontaine and got my license a few years ago." You sipped your chamomile tea, lazily pointing at the papers on the table. "See? I'm rather upfront about what I do."

Except for the fact you graduated nearly fifty years ago, under the name "Faust."

"Paimon thinks it's because you don't exactly look like a government worker, Jianfeng..."

"What do I look like then?"

"Well, uhh... Paimon can't say..."

"Exactly," you sat up straight. "A man cannot be judged by looks, much like seas cannot be measured by a cup."

"Another Liyue proverb..." Aether muttered.

Jokes on you, they DID hire someone to simplify the documents. In addition, he asked Zhongli what your departing words meant moments prior... Admittedly, Aether's not ready to sit through another thirty minutes of him discussing what you meant this time. One literacy lesson is enough for one week.

You wouldn't know about all that. You avoid Morax– he calls himself Zhongli nowadays– like Hilichurl camps. His new appearance does little to fool you. Based on The Creator's insight, he had faked his death. The last time you had talked to him, he tried to kidnap you, so the only Archon you have the slightest semblance of trust for is Lord Barbatos. 

Speaking of Lord Barbatos, you're sure he'd love what you'll say next…

"Do you want a Fontaine proverb? Sure, here's one."

The travelers muffled their groans. Baizhu laughed heartily while Paimon pressed her head on her palm.

You chuckled.

"The robes don’t make the monk. If you can't label me from my looks then I shall do it for you. You're travelers, yet you've not seen all of what Liyue has to offer. This is what Jianfeng, a humble tax accountant, looks like, and other people in my profession can appear similarly if they chose to. What matters more is how we perform. The end."

The two travelers looked dumbfounded. 

Good. What you said was total horseshit.

"Paimon doubts it's as complic– umm, easy as that..." She droned on. 

The Creator's insights were right. Paimon is the noisest character in this "game." By then, you couldn't care much about what more she had to say. Instead, you handed the traveler a pouch.

There's no other choice than to send them on a wild goose chase.

"Yelan told me that you have no deadline in tracking The Creator down," you squinted. "But I'm no kind person. As the Liyue saying goes: return a loan on time and borrowing again will be easier. I'll only give you a daily allowance for two months. That's the only favor I will grant you."

Paimon floated near you, a lot cheekier this time. "But won't that be a pain for you?"

"How come?" You tilted your head.

"You're... Joining us, right?"

You went silent.

"Huh?"

Baizhu chuckled. He and Aether sidelined the entire conversation, yet they caught on rather quickly.

The traveler spoke, his voice was subtly smug.

"Mx. Accountant, Yelan put your name in the contract as our travel guide. And you already signed it."

------

Great, now you’re part of the wild goose chase too. Damn you, Yelan. Damn you, Wupei, for dressing up as a Good Hunter delivery boy. You can't believe she outsmarted you. Why did you even sign it– food deliveries don't ask for signatures and Mondstadt is miles away. Just because you've seen most of Teyvat for the past 500 years does not mean you have the qualifications as a travel guide– much less for a place that's a giant underground cave full of unanswered questions. Or a cave where the souls of your countrymen loitered, more specifically. 

Baizhu was concerned about this and, uncharacteristically, offered to accompany you. You explained that he would be a liability if he joined, and he reluctantly agreed. But not before doling out an inordinate amount of medical herbs to make you smell ancient (and you are.)

Nevertheless, the three of you squandered the hours skulking around the cramped confines of the Chasm. So far, you've provided minor historical context and directed them to a few shortcuts as the traveler brandished his weapon.

It's also worth mentioning that, when compared to his sister, Aether's swordplay falls short. As Lumine would say, "Aim for the neck." He swings more defensively than she does, and his range is shorter. You're no expert, but after more than a century of traveling with two fierce sword masters, you couldn't help but nitpick.

You grilled him about his sword abilities a few times, and he responded with sugar-coated remarks about your unusual outfit. His attempts to discredit you were poor, but hearing him speak is a rarity enough. You didn't mind his comments. In comparison to Lumine's snarkiness, he is more straightforward and pleasant.

"The coast is clear– This should be the place the Creator was last seen," you muttered. "Allegedly."

"Ooohhh!!! Paimon is so excited!"

Aether grunted, sharing her sentiment as a typical voiceless protagonist. His childlike wonder makes up for his lack of speech as he walked past you.

You watched him run without looking back for both you and Paimon.

Unsurprisingly, he was most excited– he's the twin The Creator chose. You would be ecstatic too if the person who set you out on an exhilarating journey came returned. The difference is that you would probably curse them for it. 

"You don't look happy for someone who's gonna see The Creator, Jianfeng," Paimon said. She nearly tugged your hoodie before stopping herself when she noticed you glaring.

"Um. You okay?"

"Ah, sorry. I didn't mean that– I'm fine." You palmed your forehead. "Just a bit light-headed."

"Do you wanna take a rest for a while? It's not good to force yourself. We can't greet The Creator if we're exhausted! You gotta look like your best self! You don’t want Them to see you like this, do you?"

You smiled weakly. 

Just shut up, Paimon.

"Right. Right."

"Hey, is this the location?"

Aether pointed to a place with a light source.

You gulped.

“That's right.”

“Oh wow! Paimon heard that They like these mysterious white-blue flowers! Paimon doesn’t know what it's called though…”

As Aether knelt to examine the odd flower meadow, you attempted to mask your uneasiness. The flooring in this spot was soft and fragile; approaching the flowerbed risked breaking it. Yelan's reports were correct, but they shouldn't have been. After all, these are--

“Inteyvats.”

Paimon and Aether looked at you.

Your eyes didn’t tear away. You were frozen from your spot.

“These are called inteyvats.” You said, lips trembling. Your forehead creased and you grabbed your arm while looking at the batch of flowers, tense. “They are Khaenri’ah’s national flower… They're a symbol for wanderers far from home–”

Your face paled and your hand began to sweat.

It seems like the Chasm-Yaksha story quest happened before "Requiem of The Echoing Depths." But why?

How come Aether knew who Yelan was, but doesn't know what inteyvats are?

You shook.

Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking.

If they’re here then... Maybe That “Creator” is actually around here too.

You've never met Them before. Strange how not once did you both cross paths when you supposedly share the same face. But just because you haven't met them yet doesn't mean you want to. 

All your muscles tensed up while your eyes squinted as if searching for a dead nation from far away.

You stepped backward.

"Hey, watch out!"

You had a mini heart attack as the steps gave in. Aether reached out. You were unable to grab his arm and Paimon's futile attempt to pull you up by your hood failed. 

You tripped. 

Unsteadily kneeling up, you unusually saw the world had taken colors way beyond an azure hue. It took you seconds before realizing your predicament.

You went completely still.

Your azure spectacles are cracked and out of reach. Your hood was lowered. All that was covering your head was a cotton face mask. The luminous stones gave your (h/c) hair an unwanted spotlight and your imperfect (e/c) eyes displayed fear in full view.

They could see your eyes– your face. No words were further spoken.

… Oh.

Aether's eyes widened and his chest sank as it heaved at the realization of who he was blindly following into the depths. He stepped forward and his dull blade clanged, subtly reminding you of his repertoire.

"JIANFENG IS THE FAKE CREATOR?!" 

It all happened way too quickly.

Paimon screeched as she lividly floated beside Aether. She had been stomping on air with her clenched fists. Neither of you truly heard her.

Because from then on, you were enemies.

…

Aether unsheathed his dull blade.

You drew what you thought and hoped was your last breath. It had been more than 500 years, and you longed for a moment of respite. 

If you were just another body that got in the way between the protagonist and his goals, then so be it. You'd gladly throw yourself into his blade and die as you've been dutifully commanded by the threads of fate.

"Jianfeng…" The traveler spat your fake name with malice as he sprung toward you in a single step. 

He managed to slice your thigh.

"I shouldn't have trusted you."

You winced.

You've compared how different he acts compared to his sister the entire time, but this was the first you've seen their startling resemblance. 

Aether looks just as numb as Lumine when placed into the role of a villain. He didn't look like an animal that wanted to tear you to shreds– he looked disappointed. 

You reluctantly walked backward, gritting your teeth as he skillfully slashed in your direction. His attack on your leg stung, and your hand flew to conceal the wound. 

As expected from a silent protagonist, he seems to know that the smallest sentences bite the most. But his words are meaningless. You knew Aether only said it because of the rumors about you. He wouldn't know the wishes of those who died with lingering regrets as much as you and your previous traveling companions. 

All he has is lip service and surface-level heroism. A facade that is slowly deteriorating ever since Inazuma.

You could dodge his attacks easily. In one flick of the wrist, you could bounce him off, but…

Many moons ago, you made up your mind on how you wished to go. You will not cower away and accept judgment with resolve. Retribution is coming to pass and with livid breaths, you'll let Aether draw his blade. You longed for the sweet release of death to be under this world's rightful protagonist.

…

However, in a blink of an eye, a fluttering grey cape obstructed death's view.

CLANG!!!

Blonde hair. 

A dark violet mask. 

Unmistakable starry eyes. 

And a long, pointed cloak.

"How... How did you get here?" You whispered breathlessly. 

He must've emerged from the wormhole below this platform.

The blonde gave you an all-too-familiar look that says he knows all that he needs to know.

The traveler froze in shock while the third person dashed in to capture your waist before he scooped you up in one quick motion. His body felt cold against yours, much to your dismay. 

He briefly exhaled through his nose; his stamina unaffected. "I'm always watching."

"Tch."

You'd call him out for being arrogant, but you know he's telling the truth. This man gathers knowledge as if his life depended on it- and you wish you had a better comparison because there is no life within him other than an amalgamation of pure jadedness.

The blonde man keeps this world's secrets, and no amount of proverbs will make you more seasoned and knowledgeable than Dainsleif, the Bough Keeper.

And this all-knowing yet curious individual appeared both pissed and enamored.

First and foremost, he is furious at Aether for performing such an atrocious "stunt." To draw a blade against the one to whom he vowed vassalage served to make his heart race for the worst reasons. Yet, Dain still has his patience, courtesy to his immortality, and you by his side.

His eyes searched yours. Longing for some shred of blissful recognition you might've felt after meeting him again but couldn't ignore the engulfing dread that settled in your irises.  You could tell he was fighting hard not to melt under your touch.

Dainsleif promised before that he would never disobey his lord’s commands. He was true to his word and never once appeared in the past few centuries

But seasons change.

He made his choice. Dainsleif pulled away.

"My memories have all but faded, but I know that underneath those clothes, you're still the same person, my Lord." 

His gaze was smoldering. The Bough Keeper did not take one step closer, but the way he stared at you already felt suffocating. He didn't and he won't come close. His Khaenriah'n eyes sufficed in expressing the loneliness he dealt with when he traversed Teyvat without you. He didn't have to hold you tight. His presence is intense enough.

You thought you were the one monitoring his actions through Kaeya, but Dainsleif had always been the better stalker.

You don't know the hell you put him through by leaving him on his lonesome.

Dainsleif smiled delicately. Had you never traveled with him, it would've been an unpredictable expression. As much as you hate reminiscing about that era, you know that he reserves that look for you alone. He was elated when he saw you wear the scarf he gave you.

Skinning that cryo abyss mage was a lot of work.

You should've thrown it away, but you couldn't, not when it was one of your good memories with him and her. Not when he worked tirelessly to master sewing just for you. 

Now there's no way he won't assume that there's more to it than keeping warm.

"Lord (Y/n)..." 

Dainsleif's voice was still soothing.

Aether gave him a strange look. He didn't think of him as the kind to address someone by that title, but then he remembered that Dainsleif was once an honorable knight. He just didn't know that the Twilight Sword used to serve you. Nor did he know that (Y/n) was your real name.

"Stop." You commanded, but your shaky voice betrayed you.

You haven't heard that name in a long time.

"... At last. It's been a long time, hasn't it?" Dainsleif awkwardly spoke as if you both lacked time.

How dull. The three of you always had enough time.

And you have already picked a route to follow. Having the Creator's wisdom already gave you an advantage in predicting what would happen, and each day made you wonder when your paths might diverge. You didn't deny fate when it arrived. Lumine chose the Abyss Order, while Dainsleif seek to oppose it. 

They were both suffocatingly possessive. If Khaenri'ah shunned you as a heretic creation, Dainsleif and Lumine prized you as their hysteric humanoid.  They both desired you, but neither was willing to share. They tugged and pulled as if you were not capable of thinking for yourself.

And what did you do? You opted for a strategic retreat. You have no malice against Teyvat but no will to save it either. After knowing that your old companions represent these two sides, you wanted nothing to do with their metaphorical coin.

As a creature abandoned by its nation, can you be blamed for having no plans of carrying the burden for those who died and survived?

You shook your head. 

"You reek of corruption, Twilight Sword."

He grunted, and yet he pretended not to hear you.

Dainsleif pushed you behind him, eyebrows knitted together as he glanced at your leg.

"Don't act tough," he said, despite tracing traces of his curse with his free hand. "Stand back, you're hurt."

Aether struck first. 

"HIYAH!!!"

Dainsleif parried effortlessly.

He smiled, realizing what he had done. 

When alone, he's the Bough Keeper, but with you, he stands firm as the Twilight Sword.

"Why are you helping them...?" Their swords clashed against each other in a temporary stalemate. "They're the impostor! They're dangerous!"

Despite his grievances, you were somewhat proud that Aether took your advice to heart when he swiftly aimed for Dainsleif's neck. Even if his efforts were futile.

He's no longer angry, just confused. Aether thought to himself that if Dainsleif is keen on protecting you, then are you his sister’s enemy as well? 

But Aether wasn't sure if his views aligned with his sibling. 

"Not to brag, but your form is poor." Dainsleif retorted, pointing vaguely at Aether. He pursed his lips, unamused, before slashing Aether's defenses in one strong cut. 

Dainsleif kicked him down, forcing him to gasp sharply. His heel dug into the flesh of his cheek. Paimon shook afraid as she watched her companion weakly grab his opponent’s heel.

The Bough Keeper’s eyes darkened. He only had one thought in mind while Aether pathetically wormed under him. 

Any man who believes in baseless rumors does not deserve to bask in your presence.

"If my memory serves, My Lord could barely pick up a claymore or hunt a boar. It would be hopeless for them to try and beat you in a spar.” He said with a faint but recognizable teasing lilt. “I'm simply standing in for them."

You could disagree with his claims if you wanted, but he'd reply with a subtly sarcastic "that would be a miraculous development, indeed." Dainsleif never trusted that you can protect yourself because that's what he was there for. But you're done using his services.

Aether pushed Dain away and distanced himself. His bruised cheek and bloody nose could not deter him from his new mission.

The traveler tilted his chin upward. “Dai–”

"Kill me, traveler."

The men flinched.

You walked to your fallen enemy, not caring for how Dainsleif caught your wrist.

"Take my life– before he tries something funny."

After sending Dainsleif an accusatory glance, he pushed you aside forcefully.

"Traveler, your battle is with me."

“I’m your target!"

Dainsleif's face hardened, glaring at you. 

You smirked. You can't help but wonder how much 300 years alone had impacted him. He used to be so careful not to offend you and so remorseful when he did. Seems like the captain would bare his fangs with just about anyone that stood in his way. Including his old master. You were happy about this development, yet sad all the same.

You’ve grown tired of everything too, haven’t you, Dain?

"Paimon is so confused, please stop it!"

No one listened to her.

“Traveler, you’re looking for the Creator, right? They’re not here. I lured you here to kill you.”

Dainsleif sneered. “They’re lying. It's possible that everything is under your sister's orders to redirect your path.”

“Lumine has nothing to do with this. I’ve lied about many things but this is not one of them.” You lied nonchalantly.

Aether faltered.

"You know Lumine?"

Dainsleif gripped your shoulder. “(Y/N).” 

You huffed and elbowed him. “Shut it, Dain. Your corruption is beyond saving. Don't butt in like this is about you."

"Ngh..."

Dainsleif's eyes softened, visibly stung by your words. He bit his lip and looked at the floor for a brief moment.

Aether and Paimon were speechless. They did not expect you to speak so harshly nor did they expect to see him look hurt.

You looked back at the traveler.

"Traveler, why don't you prove yourself worthy of being the main character and take us both out?"

Paimon shrieked and palmed her cheeks.

"W-Wait! Why don't we all just talk instead?!" Paimon screamed.

"Paimon's right."

Aether sheathed his sword back. You and Dain met each other's eyes, before staring at the traveler, confused.

"Jianfeng..."

His hand shakily pointed to your leg.

Saturated blood oozes from your open wound. No means a regular sight and unwise to call it a vibrant hue.

Your blood glitches. 

It spills, yet evaporates into thin air. You stared at your wound as if it wasn't yours. You forgot that you were supposed to cover it, but–

Would a normal person's blood look like red-black cubes?

There's only one other person Aether knew had red-black cubes. 

And it was the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles.

"Was I wrong…?"

Aether's knees buckled, shaking. His eyes stared up apologetically, mouth agape.

"Are you… The real Creator?"

...

Dainsleif went rigid. He felt the air shift but he needn't look behind. The Twilight Sword knew you didn't like that question at all.

Your expression dampened.

The Traveler had successfully provoked you.

"My Lord, please stand back." 

…

The silence was unbearably long.

And then, you clicked your tongue.

"No." You said firmly. "No, I don't think I should."

You stomped your foot.

And the Chasm trembled.

The floating mushrooms scurried for a place to hide as the unstable foundations of the upside-down city crashed their weight down. The floating debris shook and fell in the sudden momentum– asphalt slimes shriveled and the cave's miniature plateaus slipped like pencil shavings with a thunderous thud.

Rubbles echoed every moment or two, threatening to collapse.

You can't think of a better way to answer him than this.

In one stomp of your foot, the underground mines shook as much as an ancient dragon's tantrums. There was no visible effort put into causing this phenomenon. 

The air began to weigh heavily.

You stole Dainsleif's sword without him noticing before pointing it beside Aether's neck. You looked down on him with your chin up.

There was no divine work in play, no illusions, no elements. Every Archon both dead and alive knew that your measly power cannot summon the elements.

But gravity is in your hands.

"Enough." You commanded, voice cold and piercingly authoritative. "Just kill me, traveler. Kill me and go on your merry way, before I end this game right here– before the Chasm crumbles."

"Your Grace–"

Aether begged, kneeling on small shaky pointed rocks.

You let out a guttural groan, exasperated. He heard your throat strain itself as you answered him bitterly.

"WRONG. I am Their Impostor. Teyvat had abandoned me long ago. I bore no "divine" power nor "will" of my own, instead, Rhinedottir molded me to Their likeness."

If you told him that at the restaurant, Aether would've believed you. Your aura was akin to Albedo's, but there was something the chief alchemist lacked.

Divine blood.

You inched the blade closer. The blood that spilled from his neck was unlike yours. It was red. It was shapeless. They were not cubes.

"T-That doesn't sound right!" Came Aether's shaky reply. "You HAVE to be The Creator, Y-Your Grace! No one else can replicate your blood– and the way you shook the Chasm just now it's–"

Aether speaks like Lord Barbatos.

"And so what?"

"H-Huh?"

Enough.

You've heard this multiple times from Kairos.

Your blood began to boil.

Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking.

"So what if I look like Them? If I have Their powers?" You said, eyes lifeless. 

"So what if I'm The real Creator? Do you think I'd come back? After how this world had treated me? That I would graciously fix this realm's problems. Am I a tool? A plot device like you? Do you think I'll motivate the Knights, help Morax find a replacement, reverse Inazuma's grievances, reinstate Rukkhadevata's form and dignity with the oh-so goodness of my heart?"

Aether gulped. He did not speak. You were right.

The Chasm continued to shake.

You gritted your teeth. "The greed in your eyes disgusts me. You've traveled far enough, surely you know how inherently selfish this world is? Aren't you tired, Traveler?" 

There's one more thing hidden within his eyes that you forgot to mention.

Aether cried.

It was regret.

You put away Dainsleif's sword, clanking it down the floor. You smiled crookedly and cupped Aether's cheek,

before reaching for his neck. 

"If you can't bring yourself to kill me, why don't we both stop breathing, together?"

"(Y/n), that's enough!"

Dainsleif ordered. 

The vibrations stopped.

You didn't know what came over you. Was it survival instincts? Baseless hope? The desperation in his voice? Or a fragment of trust you had left from when you traveled with him?

Dainsleif reached his hand out. His frown was not a display of toughness, but genuine concern.

"It's no longer safe here. The Abyss Order has sensed our movements and I can tell they're heading our way. We'll leave. Now."

His hand looked welcoming, warm, and enticing, but your heart was not in it.

Your eyes wandered elsewhere.

You recalled a distant memory from long ago. Barbatos often told you that "He who leaves a good name does not die poor." and you wondered why. And so, you foolishly lived more than a hundred human lives in search of a proper answer. Immortality devours the soul, and you expected that after the fifteenth life you may not grasp the true meaning behind his ramblings.

But at that moment, you looked at Aether’s pained eyes and got your answer.

Ah.

"I got it."

You took a step back near the cliff's edge, facing the two men. Dainsleif gradually prepared himself for a sprint. The faint crunch of your shattered glasses resonated through the cave, and if you took another step, you'd fall.

Yelan's reports state that there should be a portal below this platform. It should be the same place Dainsleif warped from.

You're uncertain that it's still open.

But hey.

Haven't you always wished for something that only has a 50/50 chance?

"This is my farewell as Jianfeng, a tax accountant."

You jumped off with a big stupid grin.

For a brief moment, Dainsleif felt as if icicles were pressed against his internal organs. His eyes widened.

"LORD (Y/N)!!!"

He did not hesitate– your most loyal retainer dashed forward like a wild animal and jumped with you.

Aether watched how his Creator sank deep into the Chasm from above in pure horror.

You lost yourself.

This was the stupidest asspull you've ever done in the past 500 years.

You roared with laughter as Dainsleif pulled you close to protect you from the fall. He longed to hear your laughter, but this sound was disjointed and airy– an inexpensive imitation. Dainsleif closed his eyes and groaned almost inaudibly. He's been starving for your touch, and he can no longer hold back. 

Dain snuggled against you, his fingers tangled in your hair. You smelled like violetgrass.

"I'll never leave you alone again." He whispered desperately, wanting to add that this was his new oath but couldn't due to lack of air, something you had plenty of. You did not hear it. All you heard were the flaps of his cape.

The air pressure prickles into your skin. As you both plunged into something similar to the abyss, his hands roamed around your back, keeping your scarf in place as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. You did nothing to stifle your misplaced laughter. 

You wanted to tell her that you finally understood Barbatos' proverbs, his everything. 

The portal should close soon, but you'll both make it.

Should your body rot away in the depths of Chasm's shallow wind, you hope to witness the endless cycle of life again without those azure-colored lenses–

"You can't leave me. Never."

–as no one else but Lord (Y/n) (L/n), and their most loyal retainer, Dainsleif, the Twilight Sword.

—-----------

“Your Highness, it appears that Dainsleif had captured Your Grace.”

“Traitor, but he kept his promise.” She spoke, not in a way that betrayed any emotions. The Princess said it as what it was: a fact.

In one hand, the Princess poured herself a glass of wine, elegantly gulping the contents in one go. She couldn’t be bothered to hold it with both hands when the other held a priceless artifact. Once she placed her empty glass on the silk-covered table, she lazily beckoned the Abyss Lector forward.

“Burn all the inteyvats left in the Chasm.”

The Lector, Enjou, hesitantly raised his head. “But Your Highness–”

“I did not cultivate them for my brother to find.” She said, looking at the cracked azure shards sitting on her palm. “It was for Them, and you failed to lead Them there.”

The Abyss Princess lovingly kissed the broken shards.

“I wonder…” Lumine looked up.

"What is it like to finally see the world without these glasses, Your Grace?"

#yandere genshin x reader #yandere sagau #genshin fanfic #yandere #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere dainsleif #yandere baizhu #yandere lumine #abyss lumine #yandere kaeya #yandere venti #yandere dainsleif x reader #dainsleif x reader #yandere zhongli #tag: hh - sagau #sagau x reader #sagau dainsleif #sagau lumine #sagau kaeya #sagau zhongli #sagau angst #Dainsleif x reader #lumine x reader #baizhu x reader #ansy-writes

[thecreaturecodex]

Sartan

Still from Return of Ultraman accessed at the Ultraman Wiki here

[I am coming to the Ultra franchise pretty much cold, and am watching it in isolation from its fandom except for my girlfriend @abominationimperatrix. One of the things that I gather from her is that the monsters that stand out to me from these series are rarely fandom favorites. Like, I'm not planning on statting up Black King or Gudon or Twintail from Return of Ultraman... but this ratty anthro Snuffleupagus was immediately on my list. Part of that is how grody and gross he looks. Part of it is he has an interesting power set, one that led to my conception of the flavor text. It seems that Tsubaraya Studios thought the idea of a ninja elephant was worth exploring long before it was a joke on RPG.net about D&D 3.0's skill system]

Sartan CR 17 CE Monstrous Humanoid This creature is as tall as a building. Its features are lumpy and misshapen, with bulging eyes and sparse, bristly hair growing from its head. It has a long, elephant-like trunk, clawed hands, and a short tail.

A sartan is an interplanetary thrill killer. They travel from world to world, using their powers of invisibility to spy on people and learn who their heroes are. They then seek these heroes out and kill them for no reason other than to challenge their abilities and to cause other people emotional suffering. Sartans are cruel and enjoy collateral damage in these assassination attempts. Some powerful entities attempt to hire sartans to work for them as assassins, but sartans care little for money. Only if a target interests them, or if the employer resorts to charm spells, will they take on one of these jobs.

A sartan usually only enters combat if it suits them, whether because they have found their target, they want to lure that target into the open, or if they just feel like committing some cruelty for fun. Their supernatural abilities are mostly defensive—a sartan is invisible unless it chooses to appear, or is actively locked in combat. They can become incorporeal, which they often do in order to have mundane weapons pass right through them. When it comes to actual violence, however, sartans do it the old-fashioned way, by getting their claws bloody or grabbing a foe with their trunks and squeezing it to death. Sartans value their own hides too strongly to fight to the death. They will usually attempt to flee a losing battle, but may come back for a rematch on their own terms. 

Sartan  CR 17 XP 102,400 CE Colossal monstrous humanoid Init +13; Senses darkvision 120 ft., Perception +24, scent, see invisibility

Defense AC 32, touch 12, flat-footed 32 (-8 size, +9 Dex, +1 dodge, +20 natural) hp 261 (18d10+162) Fort +15, Ref +20, Will +14 DR 15/magic; Resist electricity 20, fire 20 Defensive Abilities evasion, ghost form, natural invisibility, uncanny dodge

Offense Speed 60 ft. Melee 2 claws +23 (2d8+13/19-20), slam +23 (4d6+13 plus grab) Space 30 ft.; Reach 30 ft. Special Attacks constrict (4d6+19), leap attack, strangle, studied target (+4, swift action, up to 4 targets) Spell-like Abilities CL 18th, concentration +22 Constant—comprehend languages, see invisibility 1/day—find the path

Statistics Str 36, Dex 28, Con 29, Int 11, Wis 17, Cha 18 Base Atk +18; CMB +39 (+43 grapple and sunder); CMD 59 (61 vs. sunder) Feats Dodge, Greater Sunder, Improved Critical (claw), Improved Initiative, Improved Sunder, Mobility, Power Attack, Skill Focus (Stealth), Spring Attack Skills Acrobatics +27 (+39 when jumping), Perception +24, Stealth +28, Survival +24; Racial Modifiers +8 Stealth Languages Aklo SQ meteoric starflight

Ecology Environment any land Organization solitary Treasure standard

Special Abilities Ghost Form (Su) A sartan can become incorporeal as a swift action. In this form, it loses its natural armor but gains a deflection bonus to Armor Class and CMD equal to its Charisma modifier. It cannot make attacks in this form, but does gain a fly speed equal to twice its land speed with perfect maneuverability. It can resume corporeality as a free action. A sartan can remain incorporeal for a number of minutes up to its Hit Dice in a day. Leap Attack (Su) As a full round action, a sartan can launch itself an impossible distance, traveling up to 1000 feet in a single bound. This movement can be vertical or horizontal, and the sartan lands on its feet unharmed regardless of the height it travels. It can make a single melee attack against an opponent in its reach during any part of this movement. A sartan can use this ability once every 1d4 rounds. Meteoric Starflight (Su) Over the course of 1 minute, a sartan can turn itself into a Medium sized hovering rock-like object, then blast itself into space. In this meteoric form, it has hardness 8, can make no attacks, and requires no food, water or air. In this form, it can fly at a speed of 300 ft. with perfect maneuverability, and can survive in the void of outer space and fly with incredible speed. Although exact travel times vary, a trip within a single solar system should take 3d20 hours, while a trip beyond should take 3d20 days (or more, at the GM’s discretion)—provided the sartan knows the way to its destination. Natural Invisibility (Su) A sartan can become invisible or visible as a move action. Its invisibility is broken when it attacks. Strangle (Ex) Due to its enormous size, a sartan can only strangle when it is grappling an opponent of Huge or larger size. Studied Target (Ex) A sartan gains the studied target ability of a slayer with a level equal to its Hit Dice. It does not gain other slayer class abilities, such as sneak attack or slayer talents, unless it takes levels in the slayer class.

#sartan #ultraman #return of ultraman #kaiju #pathfinder 1e #monstrous humanoid #ninja #elephant #ninja elephant

[writingmochi]

soobin's spin-off teaser

cast: alt kid!soobin ✗ fashion student/designer!fem.reader

synopsis: after soobin's encounter with a person from his original timeline, he experiences doubts if he can settle in this new timeline or not. his alienation and existentialism take a spin in a new world he has to figure out himself, or if he could be courageous enough to ask you to guide him down back to the surface

genre: coming of age, slice of life, romance, drama, friends with benefits au, college/university au, angst, fluff, mature content (drug consumption and explicit smut)

word count: 489

release: out now!

a tiny message: for the people unfamiliar with the series, i recommend reading the series first to know about the world! spoilers from chapter i-vi of time wave

masterlist

after he laid back in his bed after bringing you back, his state of mind went into such a limbo that all of the thoughts in his head are about you, original timeline you, his best friend yeonjun, and his home timeline. he tried to sleep it off, but it didn’t help until something made him impulsively act.

he steps out of his bed and turns on his desk lamp to open his sketchbook, grabbing two different colored pens of black and dark blue as he sketches the visual in his mind. figures are drawn in black ink into faceless figures talking to each other, some holding bottles in hand and a few laughing “hahaha”s around the people. the center of the paper is empty as he grabs the blue pen and draws another figure that looks so different from the others. its shape is humanoid but its head is bigger than the others. he outlined the clothes and how the being is holding onto a bottle of beer, he assumed, but with the black ink. he makes a small rectangle on the chest as he writes “soobin” in it.

retreating his posture back, he sees the finished picture as he visualizes. the lone blue outline humanoid in the middle of the black figures. ever since original timeline you left, he sensed his mind was being pulled out of his body for the first time since long ago and he sees himself in a third-person view when he walks back to his room. the out-of-body experience also recaps his year-long life here in a fast pace before one word rings in his mind.

alien.

he feels like an alien. this isn’t his original home after all. this is not the world he was born in. he’s not supposed to be here.

after you mentioned what happened back in your original timeline, he can’t help but feel his heart sunken down into the fathoms of himself. on how he left so suddenly. on how he only thinks about himself as he try to rebuild his life here. how the “feeling alive in a new world” means seems more of like an illusion to him. soobin felt himself crumbling as a tear fell out of his left eye, still staring at the drawing he made in the middle of the night. cicadas sound outside of his window as he hears a fading muffled sound of people in rooms far from his. all become solemn and sound as the doubts he holds back are now crashing the dam and filling up his head like a vase.

he misses the adventures he and yeonjun had in high school. his discovery of rock music and songs his dad might listen to if he could ask him; though he was meters under the ground. he misses the experimental parts of his youth and how, even in his hardest times, he’s still living.

soobin misses home.

taglist: @raeyunshm @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @stayzentiny @rebsmoonn @boba-beom @angelbythewindow @ttyunz

time wave taglist (i remember you all!): @rein-deer-stuffs @kookthief @papiibuprofen @soobsfairy444 @yeombin @jaemacchiatto @zgkigia @strawbrinkofdeath @moaberryjjunie @fandom-kay

© writingmochi on tumblr, 2021-2024. all rights reserved

#k-labels #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt smut #txt angst #txt fanfic #txt x reader #soobin x reader #rsc: time wave #rsc: fm #cr: soobin #cs: txt #sc: regina

[adobe-outdesign]

I would like to heavily beg for your thoughts on the Leavanny line please. My poor grass bugs haven't been on the Switch at all yet, they are stuck eternally in Pokemon Home. I am crying. Justice for my fashion designer icons in the DLC.

A few people in the past have asked me what my favorite bug-type Pokemon line is, and my answer is always the same: these guys, 100%, for reasons I'll be getting into throughout this review.

Sewaddle is somewhat ironic in the sense that leaf bugs don't have a metamorphis stage, let alone start off looking like caterpillars—but Pokemon are interesting monsters first and biological creatures second, so I am more than happy to give this cute little thing a pass.

Visually, the leaf wrap forming a swaddling blanket is both a clever way to integrate leaves into the design and a nice way to add something unique, given that we've already had tons of caterpillar Pokemon already. It also gives Sewaddle's design a nice bit of practicality, as it can do this while it sleeps:

The colors are nice—just a simple yellow, orange, and green—and I love the stylized but still very bug-like eyes and mouth. I don't think the random balls on the head were needed (I guess they're meant to tie into the leaves on Swadloon's head?) and the underbelly probably didn't need to be included either, but those are minor nitpicks in an otherwise solid design.

I unironically think that Swadloon is The Best middle evolution stage of any Pokemon, period. Look at this delightfully grumpy teenager. How could you not love them?

With the entire line having a leaf clothing motif, giving Swadloon a leaf blanket is both something it can have that makes it unique, yet something that still ties back into the rest of the design. Even better, making it a grumpy little cocoon gives it a great personality and a different shape than the rest of the line. Everything just comes together here to form a perfect concept and a perfect transitional middle stage.

By the time we finally get to Leavanny, it becomes obvious what this line actually is: a "walking leaf", aka a leaf bug/insect:

Taking the basic concept of a bug that looks like a leaf and making it into a motherly Pokemon that sews clothes for itself and other Pokemon is a charming concept, and I really like the overall look of Leavanny here.

The yellow and green palette works great, the leaf shape is repeated throughout (such as the antennae), and the little .v. face is really charming. It's suitably insect-like (with the far apart eyes and simple mouth), but humanoid enough that it doesn't come across as too alien. It comes across as wearing clothes, but not the point where it seems too implausible or silly. Just a fantastic little bug all around

As a whole, this line is basically perfect in my book. The leaf clothing theme is established immediately and permeated in different ways through the line, yet each member of the line is allowed their own unique spin on it. Each stage has personality and stands out on its own while also working as one part of a whole, and the designs are simple and charming. These bugs absolutely need to make it onto the Switch ASAP.

#sewaddle #swadloon #leavanny #pokemon #pokemon reviews

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Dandasuka

CR 5

Lawful Evil Small Outsider

Bestiary 3, pg. 225

These motley fellows are among the least of the Rakshasa, the Earthbound Evils born when a mortal soul undertakes a profane and corrupting ritual to permanently bind their soul to the world, reincarnating each time they die rather than passing into the afterlife. The Dandasuka here (which I will be shortening to Danda from here on out) work as spies and assassins in service to more powerful Rakshasa, jobs that feel odd for creatures which prize jewelry, bright clothing, baubles, and jangly bits on their outfits often to the point that they look outright ridiculous and comical. This, however, is befitting of their general attitude which can be accurately summarized as "murder clown."

For the most part, Danda remain out of sight by virtue of spamming their Change Shape ability, which allows them to take on the form of any Medium or Small Humanoid creature as they will. Masquerading most often as children, halflings, and gnomes, Danda utilize good, old-fashioned skill checks rather than relying on magic in order to keep anyone from sussing out their identity or mission, making use of their +19 to Disguise and +15 to Bluff to trick and mislead onlookers, deflect blame, and impersonate whoever they need to in order to get close to their targets. Like all Rakshasa, Danda possess a constant Detect Thoughts on themselves that's empowered to always read surface thoughts without needing to concentrate on a target for 3 rounds, making their disguises and lies all the harder to crack as they learn what they have to say by reading the minds of everyone around them.

That being said, when normal words fail, Danda have the casting power of a 2nd level Sorcerer, which doesn't sound impressive, and in truth isn't particularly astonishing... but it does mean they have five spell slots full of Charm Person and/or Ventriloquism, which are incredibly flexible in the hands of a creature that's trying to get into places it's not invited. It's also got a handful of useful cantrips, such as Daze (which is useful for a creature that expects to be among commoners and low-level guards), Ghost Sound, and Mage Hand. Outside of its Sorcerer levels, a Danda can use Clairvoyance once a day, which is especially handy for narrowing down where its target is or isn't and gathering intel from a distance.

Once in battle, Danda transform from patient plotters to cackling, maniacal jesters, dancing and cavorting and making terrible, black-hearted jokes at the expense of their targets all the while. They're absolutely vicious little buggers, far more than you'd expect from such small creatures, and they revel in bloodshed to the point it's actually a downside for them. Offensively, they CAN wield weapons, but prefer their Claw-Claw-Bite for 1d4+1 and 1d6+1, respective, due to the enjoyment they get from flensing people with their bare hands and teeth. Those absolutely gigantic chompers of theirs tack 1d4 bleed damage onto the bite, bleeding their victims out in short order if they can't staunch the flow. If the Danda has some method of getting the drop on its foe--such as its 20ft climb speed, its +17 to Stealth, or if it's disguised as an ally--it can add +1d6 Sneak Attack damage to all of its attacks as well, and multiple Danda sent on the same mission can flank for one another to quickly tear apart most enemies in short order.

That bleed damage, however, is sometimes to the Danda's detriment. These horrid little beasties are plagued by a hunger for mortal flesh and blood that requires a level of willpower to ignore that they often do not have if they don't gorge themselves before a mission, which the book notes often leads to them suddenly stopping their attacks to lick blood off their claws or even the floor, or pause to consume a chunk of flesh cut off an enemy. Unlike the Gaki, who's hunger is so overwhelming they suffer a mechanical penalty when being offered food, the Danda have enough self control to reject anything offered by an enemy, so this quirk of their behavior tends to serve more as a DM emergency mercy button, having the untouchable little gremlin pause its attacks to bite down on a nearby corpse.

I say "untouchable" for one specific reason, and it's not their DR 5/Good or Piercing; it's their disproportionate 20 Spell Resistance, which is basically immunity against the magic of all but the luckiest of mages at the level one can expect to encounter one of these beings. A caster at levels 1 to 3 has such a low chance of piercing that SR that they're better off using crossbows and darts (since those actually bypass its DR), and even spells which ignore its SR will have to contend with +5/+9/+6 saves, and non-casters don't have any easier of a time thanks to 19 AC! Their bleed damage, climb speed, and Stealth checks also make them excellent hit-and-run baddies, using Spring Attack to initiate before scampering back off into the urban sprawl, hurling insults and cruel jokes back at the party all the while as they struggle to deal with the latest bout of damage.

As assassins go, Danda aren't exactly the most subtle. Their jangling jewelry and gaudy appearance and tendency to stand atop an enemy's corpse and make a gaff about their death to a horrified audience doesn't exactly lend itself to killing quietly, but if you need to send a message, there's few creatures who'll do better. They're also cheap; a Danda's rapacious hunger for the flesh of humanoids means that they're comically easy to bribe compared to most supernatural assassins, and offerings of garish clothes and expensive jewelry can be easily supplemented with decadent meals crafted in whole or in part from other murder victims. Just make sure they're fresh; Danda aren't ghouls, after all, and one risks offending them if they're offered rotting or substandard meat.

You can read more about them here.

#Monster Spotlight #CR 1 to 5 #Pathfinder #dungeons and dragons

[dungeon-strugglers]

✨New item!✨ Bugspewer Weapon (blowgun), rare (requires attunement)

This blowgun is fashioned from a nest infested with parasitic dart bugs.

The blowgun has 5 charges. When you make an attack with bugspewer you can expend 1 charge to launch one of the dart bugs as special ammunition at the target. On a hit, the bug latches onto the target and begins sucking its blood (creatures without blood or an equivalent fluid are immune to the dart bug’s necrotic damage). At the start of each of the target’s turns it must make a DC 15 Constitution saving throw or take 1d4 necrotic damage for each dart bug that is latched onto it. Each dart bug will remain latched onto their host for 1 minute, or a creature uses its action to detach it. A dart bug occupies the same space as its host and has half-cover while latched onto a target. Once a dart bug is removed, it will flee to the nearest darkness and hide. If you fire a dart bug and miss, it dies. Bugspewer regains 1d4 + 1 expended charges daily at dawn. Alternatively, while holding bugspewer you can retrieve a living dart bug with an action to regain 1 expended charge. If you expend the blowgun's last charge, roll a d20. On a 1, the blowgun crumbles into ashes and is destroyed.

While holding bugspewer and it has 1 or more charges remaining, you can cause the swarm within it to defend the hive against attackers. As a reaction, when a creature moves within 5 feet of you on its turn, you can force it to make a DC 15 Dexterity saving throw or take 4d4 necrotic damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a success. A Humanoid reduced to 0 hit points with a dart bug attached to it dies and rises as a paper zombie (stat block provided by The Dire DM) 1 minute later. The zombie acts immediately after your turn in the initiative count. Paper zombies are hostile to all creatures, except for dart bugs and the wielder of bugspewer. - This item is a collaboration with our friend The Dire DM! Go check him out at: https://www.patreon.com/Dire_DM - 🖌🎨 Like our work? Consider supporting us on Patreon and gain access to the hi-resolution art for over 180 magic items, item cards and card packs, beautiful creature art and stat blocks, and setting pdfs with narrative hooks and unique lore!🧙‍♂️

📜 Credit. Art and design by us: the Dungeon Strugglers. Please credit us if you repost elsewhere.

#dungeon strugglers #dnd #d&d #fantasy art #artists on tumblr #artwork #dnd item #ttrpg #d&d 5e #illustration #artist #animation #art #dnd 5e homebrew #d&d homebrew #dnd homebrew #hand drawn #homebrew #d&d ideas #d&d items #fantasy item #item #illustrator #drawings #drawing #dragon #digital #fantasy

[firecooking]

A fun piece that took me WAY too long to complete!

I wanted to draw out the Z stacks for my humanoid au and do something fun with the outfits and the posing. I almost always draw them in some form of work uniform or in their formal gear and while that's pretty accurate for most situations they also have non work good clothes, of course in shades of Zero Marine Bigg City approved browns and blacks.

I also wanted to highlight more personal styles with them as well as keeping the context of the 1920s in mind! I also gave them all weapons for fun!

Zip has a VERY stylish youthful way of dressing for the 1920s, his bow tie would be seen as rather formal in contrast to his outfit which would be very youthful and in matching, shorts don't match with sweaters, boots don't match short sleeves, young men often dressed 'eclectically' to 'stand out'. Zip Carries a rather standard hunting rifle, he doesn't much like to use it, but it lets him stay away from danger while protecting himself. He's a small guy and doesn't like to be in the action, the gun lets him keep his distance, and he quite likes that. He does know how to use it and will if necessary.

Zug wears a pretty average day suit, it's pants cut is a little big and the coat is a sport cut, he'd been seen as basically a lousy dresser, sorta like a used car sales man. Zug carries a Tommy Gun, he's a small guy and it gets the job done.

Zorran dresses in a modern for the time business suit, the cut is straight on the pants and jacket and the bi coloured pants and jacket would be seen as a more relaxed choice and he's forgone the vest of old. Winged saddle shoes complete the look, he would be a snazzy dresser in the eclectic sense like Zip. Zorran is a resourceful man and will fight with anything at hand, but a good old fashioned lead pipe is easy enough to carry and conceal and even easier to ditch without suspicion

Zebedee forgoes convention, instead going for comfort and a relaxed fit. The Zoot Suit is still two decades out but the smoking suit is making its debut, considered a wasteful use of fabric Zebedee is on the cutting edge of fashion, even if he just wanted something comfortable. He is a fan of brass knuckles, if he has to fight he'd rather brawl fair and square

Zak, like Zorran, forgoes a piece of the standard business suit, However his piece of choice is the Vest, which sets him firmly into casual. With a dark grey shirt and matching tie, pants, hat and shoes, Zak is scrubbing against the grain of fashion conventions of the time, Zak would be kicked out of a fancy restaurant on sight in such an outfit. Zak keeps a switch blade on him at all times, he's a big fan of stiletto style knives, they make quick work of any target

Zaffre opts to forgo feminine dress but doesn't abandon women's wear. The Blazer is in its second decade as women wear, note the lack of collar notches on the blazer and the single button, and the loose fitting light fabric pants are the trend with young flappers for day wear. Her shirt and tie are what step back into men's wear but are not unheard of anymore. She's young and a great example of a second generation suffragette, the right to vote is just the first step, you know. Zaffre hasn't opted for any weapons yet, the hat pins and batons of days past are not needed when you are ready and willing to beat someone to death with your bare hands. Maybe she'll find something someday

Also have a high chart because I am terrible at drawing them to scale, by 1920s average heights they are all pretty average, Zug and Zaff being extreme but not unheard of, by today's average heights literally all of them are average and below with Zug being unheard of as a 'normal' hight

#the fire burns #burnings #art #illistration #this is tugs #z stacks #tugs zorran #zaffre #tugs zebedee #tugs humanized #tugs zip #tugs zak #tugs zug #wepons #guns #gun #knife #knives