#like wobbly inverted or something

[nickfurrcillo]

They should've made a 420 filter or mode smh 😔

#the quarry #like can u imagine #oh u thought u saw a werewolf no u didn't actually tho ;) #the view would b so fucked #the fire pit was the perfect blunt rotation #nick's not drunk dancing he's stoned #getting dared to shotgun instead of kiss bc tht's just way more intimate #max & laura extra nervous bc they were hot boxing b4 travis shows up #the hacketts grow weed instead of making moonshine #quick times would b 10xs slower #finding chris's secret stash when u're n the surveillance room #honestly the real reason eliza's tents burned down #oh oh & everyone's got a glazed over bloodshot gaze #jacob makes a water bong out of a melon #the aiming/shooting becomes utter dogshit #like wobbly inverted or something #they find emma hot boxing n the car when they come back to the lodge #I could keep going #but I'll stop for now 😎

[miasmaghoul]

Nun forced fem on either SwissDew or Raindrop

yeah sure here

(idk what this is its barely nsfw lmao uhhh warnings for forcedfem, religious fuckery, mention of safewords without use of them, mostly implied corruption kink)

"It suits you."

"Does it?" Rain smooths nervous hands over the front of his habit, flattening imaginary wrinkles. "It feels so..."

"Pious?"

Rain gives a hum - it's not the word he had in mind, but it isn't wrong. Rain adjusts his veil as he takes in his reflection, turning to take in every angle in his floor length mirror.

It's odd how bare he feels considering how little skin he can see. His face and hands stand out beautifully, pale and sharp against rich black wool. That's all the uniform reveals, though. Nothing about this ensemble could be called flattering, and yet Rain can't stop looking. Can't stop tracing the shape of his sleeves and frowning at the one stubborn curl poking out behind his ear. The rosary hanging from his belt clinks when he moves to tuck it away, silver and red beads glinting in the firelight.

"I was going to say severe," Rain murmurs, fingering the inverted silver cross hanging around his neck. "But...I suppose that works too."

He feels the need to speak softly like this, to keep his voice low and his words gentle. He isn't a particularly loud ghoul as it is, at least not often, but something about seeing himself look so...reserved demands it.

Rain licks his lips, and finds the sight of it in the mirror to be borderline obscene.

"And how does it make you feel?"

The words are followed by the creak of a chair and steady footsteps on hardwood, a confident but easy stride, and Rain's heart skips against his ribs. The footsteps stop beside him, in what should be his periphery, but their owner remains hidden by the starched edge of Rain's wimple. He can't make himself turn to look, occupied instead by watching splotches of pink bloom on his cheeks.

"I...I don't know," he admits, and it's the truth. There's an odd stew of feelings swirling around in his skull, a bizarre blend of shame, discomfort and the most blasphemous sort of pride. His fingers tremble as he tugs at the knot binding his belt, a mindless distraction.

"Take your time," flows into his ear, velvety smooth, "but I want an answer."

Rain nods, sighing as he lets his eyes slip shut. Just for a moment. Maybe two.

He really didn't think this would be so hard. He knew it would be different - how could it not be? - but the heaviness in his gut is so much more than he was prepared for. He's been dressed up a thousand ways from Sunday; lingerie, pretty dresses, elegant gowns and the sluttiest costumes Swiss could get his greedy hands on. He's worn makeup and press-ons, learned to walk in the highest heels and had his waist cinched by corsets until he was ready to faint.

It all pales in comparison to the simple garments he wears now.

"...small, I think," Rain practically whispers, once the words find his tongue. It's the closest thing he can think of to describe the tightness in his chest. "It's like..." Rain wrings his hands together, the motion obscured by his oversized sleeves. "It's like I don't belong in this."

"That's because you don't," comes his very amused reply, and a gentle weight settles against his forearm. Rain stares at that elegant hand in the mirror, wide eyes caught on the place skin turns to fitted sleeve. "That's part of the fun," that hand thightens, a rough thumb arching over the inside of his wrist, and that voice feels like a red hot poker when it adds, "Sister."

The word makes him gasp, makes his stomach flip, and Rain wobbles in place. Has to reach out to catch himself on the body beside him, and he earns a soft chuckle in response.

"Easy, easy."

Rain feels the words as much as he hears them, radiating through the palm he's planted in the center of a lightly muscled chest. He shivers when a warm hand rubs over his spine, a familiar motion that has completely different connotations right now.

"You're safe," he's promised, quiet and serious. "I've got you."

Rain nods, takes a deep breath as he pushes himself upright, but he can't make himself open his eyes. He knows what's waiting for him when he does, and some part of him doesn't want to see it. If he sees it, it's real. A fantasy made real - not his own, but one he's been eager to help fulfill for ages now. Ever since the night he wrung this desire out of the ghoul supporting him, had pulled the words from his throat with precise rolls of his hips and a perfectly placed hand on a long throat.

"I've got you," he's assured again, and it's so genuine that Rain can't hold back his whimper.

"Sorry," he huffs, shaking his head. "It's...it's a lot."

A hum answers him, a warm palm cups his cheek, and Rain leans into it easily. Soothed by familiar skin and spiced cologne that settles flayed nerves.

"Rain," he says, and it's so gentle that he almost cracks an eye open. Almost. "We don't have to do this. You know that."

He does. Of course he does. One word and he's out, done, able strip himself of fabric that feels far heavier than it truly is. It would be easy, and there's a first time for everything. The word sits on the tip of his tongue, just behind sharp teeth.

"I know," Rain breathes instead, finally straightening up and crossing his arms over his stomach, "I know."

The hand on his spine remains, grounding, and Rain focuses on the feel of it. Breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth until the tangled mess in his belly unravels, until the pressure in his head subsides. Until he can face the body beside him and brace himself for what he's about to see. One hand fiddles with his rosary, nervous energy poured into a silent prayer he says at every midnight mass.

He can do this.

He can do this.

When Rain opens his eyes, it's as devastating as he thought it would be.

"Oh," he sighs, hot from his scalp to the soles of his feet, and the soft smile it earns him makes Rain's chest hurt.

He doesn't know where to look, too many details for his already frazzled brain to absorb; the shiny tips of polished loafers, a perfectly fitted black cassock, a blood red stole embroidered with goat heads and a sharp collar. Rain's eyes stick there, glued to that simple white square, and every inch of him tingles in a way he can't explain.

"Satanas," he says without really meaning to, and Rain is immediately rewarded with the warmest chuckle.

"Blessed be," Dew replies, and Rain feels more of the tension drain from his shoulders. He tears his eyes from that little white square with great effort and finds the other ghoul's face lined with mirth. His copper eyes sparkle in the glow of the fire, and something about it makes Rain shiver.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, taking in every inch of that handsome face. Dew's pulled his hair back, tied it into a tight knot at the base of his skull, and all it does is make him look more authoritative. "I didn't -"

"Stop," Dew orders, one palm raised, and Rain has never fallen silent so quickly. That one little moment makes something familiar start to bloom at the back of his mind, and suddenly it's just a little easier to deal with the invisible weight on his shoulders. His eyelids feel just a little heavier.

"Sorry," Rain mumbles once more, but it's only out of habit. Dew ignores it, tips his head, and then that warm palm is back on his cheek and Rain has a fleeting thought about what his habit will look like once he's inevitably tenting it.

"Tell me you want this," Dew says, voice even. He strokes Rain's cheekbone with the tip of his thumb, and Rain wishes he would push it between his lips instead. "Tell me you want it," he says again, fingertips tracing the edge of his coif, "or we'll change and -"

"No," Rain interjects, more sudden than even he expects, grabbing at Dew's outstretched arm. The cassock feels so soft, somehow plush and warm against his fingers. "No, I - I do," Rain promises, too flustered to keep his voice from shaking, "for you, I - I want to -"

He's silenced by the pressure of one long finger against his parted lips, by a soft shushing noise, and then Dew's close enough that Rain can feel his warmth. He tilts his head up, gives Rain a hungry look, and Rain can't describe how miniscule it makes him feel.

"You'll tell me if that changes?"

"Yes," Rain promises, breathless, and he nods so urgently it nearly dislodges his wimple. "Yes, I promise."

As soon as the words escape him, as soon as Dew nods his acknowledgement, Rain swears he feels the air shift. That warm hand leaves his face as Dew backs away two steps, head held high. Rain feels unbearably cold in his absence, but he knows Dew will have him hotter than he can handle soon enough.

"Look at yourself," he instructs, nodding towards the mirror. "Tell me what you see."

Rain turns on autopilot. Swivels on his heels until he's facing himself once more, all harsh lines and dark fabric. He straightens his cross, his veil, and wonders how much redder his cheeks will be by the end of this.

"I see..." Rain licks his lips again, but he can't watch it this time. "I see...purity," he supplies at length, the word syrupy thick on his tongue. "I...I see innocence."

Rain wonders if Dew will make him look at himself like this afterwards too. Once he's been used up and drained dry, left woozy and weak and with nothing in him to argue. The thought makes him queasy as much as it makes him throb, and Rain stares at the spot on his habit that he knows his cock is starting swell behind.

"Do you?"

Footsteps again, intentional. Slow. Stalking up behind him, teasing fingers trailing along the edge of his veil just enough to feel. Dew appears in the mirror beside him, and the sight of the two of them together makes Rain's knees weak.

He's starting to get why Dew wanted this.

"Yes," Rain huffs, nodding once. There's a tingle caught in his spine, between his shoulder blades, a shudder he can't quite shake out.

"Yes what?" Dew asks.

"Yes, Father," he replies, a swift exhale, and Dew looks so very pleased at the way he sways.

"Well I've heard otherwise, dear Sister," he lilts, and then he's moving. Stalking slow circles around Rain a fox ready to tear into a particularly fat hen. "In fact," he adds, coming to a stop right in front of Rain. Reaching out to slip two fingers under his chin. Lifting his gaze so all he can see is Dew's neutral expression, wild eyes and that fucking collar. "There's a rumor going around that you're a regular Jezebel." Rain winces, and Dew gives him a falsely sympathetic smile. "A common whore masquerading as a lost little lamb in need of guidance."

"N-no," Rain whispers, giving his head the tiniest shake. "I - I promise, Father," he manages, already starting to get a little fuzzy around the edges. "I'm - I'm pure, I'm -"

Dew shushes him, and then he's gone. Floating away on sure feet and gliding back to his chair. Rain watches the way his cassock billows around his legs, catches glimpses of tight-fitted black slacks beneath it, and when Dew snaps his fingers Rain follows with silent obedience.

Dew looks positively regal in the oversized armchair he's pulled in front of the fireplace. He sits with his back straight and both hands folded on his lap. Rain doesn't think he's ever seen him look so powerful, so commanding of attention, not even on stage.

"Kneel, Sister," Dew commands. "Kneel and confess your sins." He tips his head and Rain's breath catches in his throat. "Kneel," he says, "and let me decide if you deserve forgiveness."

Rain drops so hard the floor shakes.

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #dew/rain #dew x rain #raindrop #cw forcedfem #cw forced fem #idk what this even is you guys let me knkw if i need to add tags idk what people expect here anymore

[vecnawrites]

Patreon Reward: Reveral Of A Hostage Situation

Weiss was not having a good time, disowned, having to smuggle herself out of Atlas, being stranded in the wilderness, and being captured by bandits, the lead one looking remarkably like her blonde teammate, Yang. Upon hearing that she was going to be ransomed, Weiss had a sudden thought about how to turn this around...

Weiss Schnee was currently at an impasse. True, she was in a rather...disadvantageous situation, what with being not only stranded in the Mistral and held hostage by a group of bandits, she was in the tent of the bandit leader, who also surprisingly enough, happened to be the mother of her own teammate, Yang.

And when the woman entered the tend and stood before her, Weiss could truly see the similarities. Both had the same facial structure, long lustrous hair (although the woman’s was black as night instead of sunshine yellow), they eyes were similar as well (though Yang’s only took that shade of crimson when she used her semblance), and of course, they were both unfairly buxom, the dark haired woman’s bust straining against her top, a massive expanse of cleavage showing. Flaunting it, just like her daughter.

Even as the woman started to speak, Weiss only heard every third word, watching those fat mounds wobble and shake, the sight entrancing her and making her wonder if the woman even understood what a bra was.

She guessed that the woman was talking about ransoming her? What would they even ransom? Despite the fact that she grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth, even she knew that money was of no use out here...so dust, then.

But that was laughable. She knew that her ‘father’ would never actually pay any ransom on her, especially after the fiasco at that gala and her practical disowning. He’d cut his losses.

Seeing those massive mounds of fat wobble and jiggle before her as the woman still yapped on and on about what she was planning on doing with her.

However, it at least gave her an enticing view. And it actually triggered a conversation that she and Ruby had, back at Beacon, months ago…

“Argh! How do you deal with her, Ruby!?” Weiss hissed through her teeth, wondering how the younger girl had managed to stand the busty blonde when she was like she had been.

Her partner giggled, though the sound wasn’t like her normal, innocent one. In fact it was somewhat...devious...compared to normal.

“That’s simple, Weiss! For all of her bluster, Yang is really weak to something very simple! I use it every time she gets too full of herself! It’s funny that someone so physically strong is so weak to something that simple~”

Weiss leaned forward eagerly, her face full of naked hope. “Please tell me you’re willing to share your secret!” Weiss would never admit to begging for the answer, but she was fully prepared to do so if it meant she could finally stop Yang when she wouldn’t stop needling her.

Ruby giggled again. “Well, you have to promise not to do it when in public~ You’d get in trouble~! Now, listen carefully, what you have to do is…”

Coming back to the present, Weiss’s lips curled into a smirk as she looked up at the still talking woman. The woman was even more buxom than her just as loudmouthed daughter, so it stood to reason she had the same weakness. Now all she had to do was exploit it…

Focusing carefully, she formed several glyphs, severing her ropes and wrapping around Raven’s wrists pulling her arms apart, leaving her top exposed and vulnerable.

...a vulnerability that she was perfectly willing to exploit, reaching forward and hooking her finger into the kimono top and tugging, smirking as the garment fell open, revealing the large, milky skinned tits capped with incredibly fat, pink, inverted nipples, a small slit where the nub should be.

Weiss chuckled inwardly, even as she inwardly seethed at the unfairness. Seeing the confused look, Weiss knew that she didn’t have long before the woman got her faculties back.

Reaching out, she curled her fingers before flicking the fat nubs that capped the unfairly large masses of fat before her. The result was instant, and dramatic.

“Aaaahhhhhooooohhhh~!!” Weiss grinned in an almost feral manner as the woman’s eyes bulged, a rosy blush formed on her cheeks and an outright slutty moan spilled from her lips as she shook from obviously unexpected pleasure. It seemed that Yang did take practically everything from her mother...which was perfect.

She flicked them again, making the woman moan again, shuddering in place as pleasure filled her. Weiss couldn’t help but giggle; the woman even made the same dumb faces Yang did when she did this to her!

Her laughter brought the woman out of her pleasure haze and the black haired woman, admittedly, attempted to glare at her (though to her eyes, it looked far more like a pout) and stuttered (like mother, like daughter, it seemed!) out a, “S-Stop this at o-once, girl, and muh-maybe I’ll l-let you o-off easy…”

Weiss gave an unladylike snort before flicking the fat buds again, watching the woman’s face screw up in pleasure as more pleasure rushed through her body.

Weiss found herself amused at the twisting faces full of pleasure that the woman was making as she starting flicking the fat nubs before her with purpose, watching her eyes roll up as well as her try and jerk her chest away, only making the fat mounds jiggle and sway with slutty purpose, though her nipples, already fat, had swollen more, practically begging to be flicked and toyed with.

The greatest thing though, in Weiss’s personal opinion, was the fact that the woman went from demanding to be let go, to begging. She was begging her to stop, her occasional words nearly lost in the gurgles of pleasure, the droplets of liquid that started pattering onto the ground telling her that the titslut was really getting off on this.

Weiss laughed softly as she began flicking the fat nubs up, down, side to side, together at once, and alternatively, seeing what would affect the slut the most.

Alternatively and one up and down and the other side to side seemed to be the best, since the slut before her was stuck in what seemed to be an almost permanent orgasm, caused from her nipples alone, a steady stream of drips falling to the ground between her legs, a heady scent of musk filling the air around them...and not just her slutty captives.

Weiss could feel that she herself was wet, her own panties sticking to her mound as she watched the cow-titted woman moan and shake, seeing those fat tits wobble and quiver, picking up speed and hearing the high pitched keen coming from the leader of the bandits, the steady dripping turning into a stream onto the floor of the tent beneath her.

With a final flick of her fingers against the fat, swollen, now dark pink nubs, Weiss figured she was finished for the moment, leaving the woman panting and dripping with sweat, her bare tits bouncing and jiggling before her.

Thinking that Yang’s mother had had enough, Weiss allowed the Glyphs holding her arms in place to vanish, leaving the woman standing shakily on her feet.

Weiss watched in amusement as the woman placed her hands on her hips, thrusting her chest out and putting a (wholly unearned) haughty look on her face. Truly the mother was the originator of the daughter’s quirks.

“I...I’ll…show you a...kindness...and forgive...forgive you...” she gasped for air, as though she hadn’t just been begging Weiss to stop what she was doing and squealing like a constantly cumming slut, “We...we’ll just pr...pretend...that this never happened…”

Weiss raised an eyebrow in amusement and leaned forwards a bit, puffing her cheeks full of air and then exhaling a quick huff of air, swift and sharp, against both nipples.

“HHHNNNNN~♥♥!!” Weiss watched in satisfaction as the woman arched, thrusting her tits out as her spine curved, a large squirt of fluid splashing onto the ground as the woman collapsed to her knees like a sack of bricks, shuddering and whimpering as her face was full of twisted, shameful pleasure.

Weiss licked her lips as she watched the supposedly powerful woman moan and shake like a needy slut desperate for any attention that she could get, realizing that she was probably had a fetish now, and wasn’t sure what she was going to do to soothe it now.

However, she watched the woman look up at her, her face wracked with pleasure, her chest heaving, bouncing, jiggling as she panted for air, her body quivering from the massive titgasm she had been given just moments ago.

Her clit twitched in her panties as she watched the woman heave for air, a near broken look in her eyes, her lips parting to only say one word, one singe word, proving to Weiss once and for all that mother and daughter were two sides of the same coin.

In a ragged, slutty, moan, she whined out, “More~♥!”

#Patreon Reward #Weiss Schnee #Raven Branwen #Hostage Situation #Semblance Use #Embarrassing Weakness

[embervoices]

Some of the comments on the "cozy horror" posts are still talking about things that are actually horror. The impression I get from the Mary Sue article is that cozy horror is inherently not horror, it's the next generation of the Hot Topic cutesy stuff. What defines horror is emotional, for something to be horror is has to have one of the several moods or feelings that are inherent to the genre. Having a demon tentacle monster that's cute and cuddly and friendly doesn't make a story a horror story.

I'm sorry this is divorced from the thread, because I'm really, really not central to this one, but...

I get what you're saying, and I don't know how much to agree or not, honestly. I mean, I definitely agree that horror is characterized by those moods. I'm not sure that's the same as being defined by them?

But I have no dog in this fight. As far as I'm concerned, as long as we all know what the hell is being referred to, it only matters so much whether it ideologically matches our preferences for sorting larger genre patterns. My linguist copartner would happily remind me that language is defined by usage, descriptively, not prescriptively. Genres are wibbly-wobbly at best, and I'm not enough of a Horror fan to be picky about this one.

I honestly haven't a clue what we call the kind of "cute comedy with macabre/morbid elements" that is things like Addams Family. I mean, "goth", yes, but that's not usually treated as a genre outside of music, and I'm sure there are goths who would be just as upset about some of the newer, cuter examples not being central enough to their experience of "goth".

Personally, I've nothing against calling it "horror" along with whatever modifier to clarify, but yeah, it's clearly at one far edge of that label at best. Because the whole point of it is that it IS a bunch of horror tropes, but inverted, subverted, etc. to change the emotion behind them in ways that, when it first started, created some cognitive dissonance. We've been doing it long enough, the dissonance has dissipated, and it's very much its own thing now, but the tropes being altered are recognizably from horror contexts, and are still core to the point of it, so the "horror" aspect is still identifiably present. So what do we call that? I seriously don't actually know. I'm sure labels exist. They're not in my head just now.

I can see how a game like "Cozy Grove" would be labelled "Cozy Horror", because it's basically a goth parody of Animal Crossing. It has all the cozy of Animal Crossing, but all the characters you're interacting with are dead. But my first instinct wouldn't be to call it "horror", no.

No doubt someone else has a lot more intelligent things to say than I do, on this front.

@elfwreck perhaps, or @auntieashleydark

#genre sorting #horror #and other labels

[blubushie]

What difference does the length of a gun's barrel make ?

I don't own a gun and legally can't cause of my country's laws, but I was curious and thought I'd ask ya

It's not "guns," it's "firearms" ;]

Also, primarily, accuracy. Bullets have a tendency to tumble—to flip end-over-end, or to wobble—if fired from too short of a barrel. This slows the bullet drastically and terribly reduces its kenetic energy on impact (and also terribly reduces its accuracy).

The longer a bullet is contained within the barrel after being shot, the more accurate the placement of said bullet will be. This is especially true for larger or longer bullets that are more likely to tumble, which is why rifles first started having long barrels.

Nowadays, firearms have something called "rifling" that remedies the problem of long barrels. The rifling "spins" the bullet and improves its ballistics (like aerodynamicy) so that it hits its target as required. To get an idea of what rifling looks like, you can look up internal rifling or you can just picture the inside of a screw hole and its ridges like the inverted, spiralling teeth on a screw. That's rifling!

The rifling also cuts grooves into the side of the bullet while it spins through the barrel, which is how police can confirm a certain firearm was used in a certain crime. The rifling of a firearm is like its fingerprint! Once they obtain the suspected weapon they can fire it, take the bullet, and do a comparison to the bullet used in the crime (if they have it, of course). If it's a match then voila, you have your weapon.

Nowadays barrel length isn't as important because we have machine-manufactured weapons which means we can make the rifling very very tight, even on handguns. There's less need for longer barrels on most firearms and nowadays most of the reason for long barrels is either tradition, antiquated laws about the legality of "sawed-off" (short) barrels (like with shotguns) that are somehow still on the books, or to help with balancing the firearms for proper support and handling through weight distribution.

Additionally the longer barrel means you can put your front sights and rear sights further apart, and the further apart they are, the more accuracy you'll have with your shooting. So, when using iron sights at least, the longer the barrel, the better the user's accuracy as well.

#blu whos #blu pew

[writefinch]

Inheritance (F/m, bondage, medfet, chastity, chemical castration)

(Note: This is a tumblr-only mini-fic as part of an effort to diversify my presence across platforms. I’ll be trying my hand at a few of these 500-ish word length stories)

The lady of the house clicked her fingers and, once the maid had stopped licking at the bound boy's privates and hurried out of the room, prepared the hypodermic kit.

'Stupid boy. Did you think your grandfather spoke merely of money when he disinherited you? Did you think you could leave to glide along on the name and education with which this family saw fit to provide? There are two classes in this world, those who lead and those who serve, and there is no soft niche to burrow ticklike into betwixt them.'

The boy whimpered as she grabbed his still-stiff shaft, writhing from side to side, his wrists and ankles tied too tightly to each corner of the bed for anything but token resistance. She looked at his penis almost admiringly. When she touched his balls, she squeezed them hard until he wailed into the rag stuffed between his lips.

'Your seed is an inheritance too.'

She prepared two needles. The boy groaned as she made small injections at five points along his penis with the first needle, and howled as she made an injection deep into both of his testicles with the second. His cock wilted like spinach in a saucepan.

'That was the last erection you'll ever have; I hope you made the most of it,' she said, satisfaction evident in her voice. 'Your seed, too, is now dead, even if someone were to milk it out of you.'

She took another item out of the kit, a thumb-thick, three-inch long steel cylinder with a much-thinner inch-long protrusion at one end, and a set of interlocking steel rings at the other. The boy squirmed as she guided the thin protrusion into his urethra and kept going, the solid steel block pushing his glans back into his foreskin, which rolled over the metal until his penis had been inverted three inches back into his body cavity. One of the rings went behind and underneath his testicles, a second went over and in front, they closed on a hinge and were locked in place with a silver padlock. From the outside it looked as if his penis had been pulled out at the root; its cavity filled with something metal and medical.

'As it serves no purpose there's no reason that we should allow the remnants of your manhood to flop around uselessly, so it shall stay locked up inside of you at all times except under blessedly brief interludes of hygenic necessity.' She reached down and gave his balls a vicious squeeze, which caused him to howl and thrash hard enough to wobble the bedposts. 'These, on the other hand, are a useful source of discipline. If and when such a time occurs that you do not require such discipline, I shall call for a surgeon and give you the mercy of removing them.'

She put away the needles and brought out another bag. 'Soon, you will serve this household as a maid. This will only commence once you have been properly trained in both skill and temperment, and until then you'll serve as little more than a chamber pot.'

Donning a pair of leather gauntlets, she prepared a slim polished-wood dildo by slathering it in a thick off-white paste. More howls, more protests as she shoved it inside him with no great care or gentleness

'I'm afraid that the cream will induce a dreadful itching, and after repeated applications this itching will become permanent. It can be soothed by the application of balm or by stretching and massaging the affected areas with penetrative means. The maids in our employ behave most solicitously for the promise of one or both of these treatments, you know.'

The protests turned to grunts, the thrashing to wiggling, and then to tears. The lady of the house giggled to herself as she wiped the dildo clean and carefully replaced her equipment.

'I'll leave you now to contemplate your new place in this household,' she said, matter-of-factly. 'Don't trouble yourself with thoughts of that silly girl you seemed so set on running away with. The footmen are keeping her company in the servants's quarters and they find her quite charming. Mister Burgess asked me to convey his thanks to you, for her engagement ring and her intact maidenhead. They've been shared among his men, and are a fine Christmas gift indeed.'

[jesse-cosay]

Honestly, for a car idea, now I can’t stop picturing there being some play on words with the phrase “smart cookie.” Like maybe a school or laboratory themed car with pastry denizens, and the famous Summa Cum Laude/head scientist is some sort of cookie. That, and or a car where that used to be the case, but they either got burnt out “gifted kid” style or went through an identity crisis and mental breakdown from something involving prior passengers/the nature of the puzzle of their car challenging the concept of them being ‘a smart cookie.’

Alternately, an inverted aquarium car where the entrance door dumps you into a zoo enclosure pit, and there are giant windows separating you from a ‘watery outside world’ where gawking aquatic species denizens want to take candid pictures of passengers for their family vacation to the Zoo before you can leave.

Could be some fun stuff there methinks.

I've seen a lot of stuff using fish or aquariums for cars, I think, so I did a spin on it to make it a zoo. I didn't actually finish this one bc I forgot what I wanted the ending to be, but I hope y'all can still enjoy it!

(I didn't have any ideas for the Smart Cookie car but it's SUCH a cool concept, I hope I or someone else uses it in the future)

The sign read no photography and MT figured it was about all the luck they would get. Jesse entered the car first to make sure it was safe, per usual. Only to find an empty zoo exhibit in which Jesse was the animal on display. Curious, MT had followed him and Alan right after. The door had closed behind them too quickly for either of them to backtrack.

In no less than five minutes even MT realized that their was no winning with this car. It sucked. Clearly the denizens lacked complete respect for the rules of their own car. And every new animal left MT more on edge than the last!

After hours of wandering in circles looking for any sign of an exit, they'd eventually decided a break was in order.

A pair of giraffes cooed at them from the other side of the cage, trying to lean through the bars and get their attention. One of them reached into its coat, glancing around to see if anyone else was looking. The only other creature was a hippo that was half asleep.

“What are they doing?" Jesse squinted. Sitting in the middle of the exhibit left him too far away to make out the details. It whipped out a camera, snapping a few quick pictures before stuffing it back into its pocket as if nothing had happened.

"Hey!" He pointed an accusatory finger, gesturing at the sign that MT had noted upon first entering. "It says no pictures!"

MT shuffled behind him, a bundle of anxious energy. They had been quiet after their initial reaction to the car. There was a small stream in the enclosure, but it was tiny and off to the side. It posed no real threat. That hadn't eased their nerves in the slightest.

MT crossed their arms and came to stand by Jesse's side before shooting a glare at the sneaky photographer. "I'm breaking that camera on my way out.”

Unbothered by their threats the other giraffe pulled out their own camera, taking their sweet time to take pictures of the two of them.

Frustrated, MT stomped towards them. Being sure to make good on their words. "I did not escape the mirror world just to get trapped in some cage like an animal!"

"No offense Alan!" Jesse amended delicately. The deer was grazing near the stream, completely unperturbed by the scene.

MT’s fist brushed against the metal of their enclosure, an electric jolt arcing from the metal into them painfully. They stumbled back from it, nearly crumbling to their knees as they clutched the sore spot. Jesse ran to their side, placing his hands hesitantly on their shoulder in an attempt to help. "Are you okay?"

They waited to respond, their vision still wobbly and bright from the shock. They shook their hand out, as if to dispel any remaining electricity as they settled back into themselves. "I'm just- tired."

Intrigued by the sudden commotion the giraffes took a whole slew of pictures, babbling to one another. MT growled. If they couldn't punch them then they'd find another way. Picking up a fist sized rock they launched it at the two instead.

The rock fared better than their hand, sailing through the cage and almost nipping one in the shoulder. Disgruntled, they put their cameras away.

MT's eyes never left the giraffes as they finally started to make their way to some other exhibit that this makeshift zoo must have had to offer. They was more than relieved to watch them go, but they knew more would take their place in time.

At last, true to their words, MT sank into Jesse's side. Resting a good amount of their weight on him. It wasn't entirely unusual. They knew they'd been getting handsier and handsier with every passing car. They could only hope he didn't mind- well. MT knew he didn't. Jesse leaned into every touch like he was starved, but MT couldn't help the way it made their stomach squirm. It was all so new to them. Everything was new to them.

As sweet as it was to stay pressed into Jesse's side, hiding against his shoulder for some sense of privacy, it couldn't last. MT was heavy. No amount of swim practice was going to keep him upright as they sagged into him, as much as they was loathsome to move.

"Do you wanna sit down?"

MT had the decency not to point out how out of breath he sounded.

Jesse shifted, moving deeper into the enclosure. Alan Dracula trotted behind them as if to keep an eye on his two fawns. His hand was feather light against their wrist, but he never broke the contact. MT was thankful for it.

There wasn't much peace and quiet to be had in this car. No cave or burrow to hide in. Even here they were still clearly visible to passing denizens. "Is this okay?"

Taking in their surroundings, MT sighed. "Yeah, this will have to do."

"Just close your eyes," He prompted, making space so that they could sit beside him.

MT blatantly ignored the extra room, and made theirself at home lined up next to him, shoulder to ankle. Jesse always felt so warm, it drew MT into him. Clicking together like two magnets. Jesse shivered, but if MT's metal skin bugged him, he didn't say anything.

They did close their eyes. Forehead lulling familiarly into the crook of Jesse's neck. They wiggled their nose as his hair tickled their face.

MT had never sat so close to him- or anyone. It sapped their energy in a way that was oddly pleasant. They didn't know how to explain it, but his presence left them pliant in a way they never could be when they'd been exploring on their own. If anything they should have been so hyperly aware of every point of contact that they couldn't bear to sleep at all. They found themselves drifting off either way.

Jesse rested his head atop MT's. Wiggling his arm to wrap it around their waist to keep their dead weight propped against him.

Alan Dracula sniffled at them curiously before snorting softly. As he laid behind the two of them, it became impossible to stay awake. Sleep had never come easily with danger lurking just behind every door. Even this car wasn't ideal. But they had each other. And they were as safe as they could be. It was enough.

#infinity train #lake infinity train #infinity train lake #infinity train book 2 #jesse cosay #infinity train book two #jesslake #infinity train jesse #jesse infinity train #yellow's writing #Eli helped me with this a little bc we both wanted to write fluff but we just never finished #ask

[editor-flower-shop]

Render/transparent tutorial?

sure, sure, anon! i was definitely expecting this to come up eventually.

i'll preface this with, the way i do this, isn't the most beginner-friendly or anything like that. most of it could be done without much of the programs/technology/etc I use.

i hope this can help you all!

~ rina

How To Make Renders/Transparents

Step 1: get your materials together

1. get an art program of some kind. we use clip studio paint, but it is not required at all, its just the one we use for our other art.

2. we use a drawing tablet, but you can do all this on your phone or you can use a mouse.

3. pick the official art you want to make in to a transparent. don’t use fanart. i get most of the art off of the fandom’s wiki, however, you know, just use common sense.

Step 2: get started

1. open your image in your program.

2. add a layer behind this layer, with a grey colour fill. 

3. make a new layer and pick a very bright colour, i use a bright green.

4. start outlining the area you want to be cut out with the ‘pen’ tool. include all the extra areas of background inside the original outline.

Step 3: actually cutting it out

1. make the image layer invisible, and use the auto select tool, inside the green outline.

2. now, find the select area and click the program’s equivilant of ‘invert selection’. this will select all the area you want to cut out.

3. click on your image layer and make it visible again. then, use ‘edit’ and ‘cut’. this should get rid of all the area around the character.

Step 4: cleaning the transparent

1. hide the outline layer and look for imperfections in your transparent. these can be wobbly lines, random white spots, or anything like that.

2. go in with the eraser tool and manually remove all these imperfections. this can be a little time consuming, but you’ll get the cleanest result this way.

3. test the transparent on something else, as if you were using it in an edit. does everything look good? if it does, you’re done! if not, keep going until its as good as you can get.

Step 5: save your image

1. make sure to hide the grey background layer before you save! this will make your transparent, well, transparent.

and here’s the finished product!

#transparent making #transparent tutorial #render tutorial #edit tutorial #tutorial #genshin transparent #genshin render #tutorials - ❀

[reallygrossstuff]

Dave - Undiscovered Gas Giant

Another gigafat story! This one long enough to warrant its own upload, so here it is. Let me know what you think, if I should focus on certain aspects more, plus who else you might like to see get this treatment in future. Responses really encourage me to keep going, and let me know what everyone would like to see most.

John wasn’t sure exactly what he was meant to be looking for this far away from Earth C. Some of the seers and science-y people in his friend group had told him there was something strange going on, but when he’d pressed any of them on it, they’d either been unable to provide more or strangely hesitant to do so.

Weird! But it wasn’t hard for him to get a few billion miles out and start floating around until he saw something obviously strange, which apparently he would “definitely know when you see, trust me, that’s all you need to know”.

He’d been flying for a few hours, and starting to wonder if he should take a break and try again later, when something pinged on the edge of his awareness. A disturbance in the natural cosmic winds, feeling almost like a hurricane back on Earth, only much, much larger.

Looking in that direction, all John could see was a... star? Planet? Hyperstructure? It didn’t emit its own light, but it was larger than a star, at least ten times the diameter of the sun, and it was definitely the source of his weird feeling. Beginning to approach, his first thought was that it looked like a much oversized gas giant - it was almost perfectly circular, the bulk of it coloured a pale pink with large white streaks across it and redder spots dotting it like storms. Almost definitely some sort of gas giant.

As he got nearer, John could see other bodies in orbit around the oversized planet. A thick belt of asteroids circled the planet, spreading out into a large ring further from its surface, and there was a strange and unnatural clustering of stars and planets at each of its poles. Weird, what could they be-

BRRRMMMMMMMMPPPPPPTTTTT...

The deep rumble, so loud it pierced even near-perfect vacuum of space, was sufficient enough to knock John off course, the god backspinning for a few rotations before getting a hold of himself. When he could look at the planet again, he saw that the objects gathered around what could be its southern pole had been forced away from it by a violent eruption of gas. In counterbalance, the objects at its northern pole were beginning to draw closer, one or two of the dozens of celestial bodies splitting off from the cluster’s own gravity to sink and disappear into the planet’s surface.

Okay, that was definitely an anomaly. John picked up the pace moving forwards, eager to see what was going on.

The closer he got, the more he doubted the planet was a gas giant as he’d first thought. Sure, it was almost spherical, but that was a big ‘almost’. There was a significant dip in its shape at its north pole, and as the planet rotated on its axis - much faster than a regular planet would - he saw what looked like a crater near its south pole, directly below where the planet cluster was gathered.

On top of all of that, John wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a gas giant... wobble, before...

The planet continued to rotate as John approached, making him doubt he’d determined the poles correctly. Maybe it was like Earth, and the actual magnetic pole was offset from the pole of rotation? Though this planet had a much bigger gap between its poles, at least fifteen degrees. Its spin let him see another pair of divots in its surface, much deeper than its ‘polar’ craters but descending over a much shorter distance. He only had a few minutes to look at one before the planet’s spin concealed it, bringing him face-to-face with the north polar crater instead. His eyes followed the long, shallow descent to the crater’s base, where his suspicions were confirmed; instead of gaseous shapes at the bottom, John could see three mounds, arranged like an inverted pyramid, and in the centre of the three, where the planets had disappeared...

...was that a mouth?

OUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRPPPP...

John was once more blown back by the gas, even moreso this time since he was closer. But being closer, he could also tell this wasn’t pure air, or some other gas like hydrogen. It almost smelled like - like someone was belching at him?

John flew in close the second the noise ended, only spying a glimpse from the corner of his eye of the planets on the opposite side drawing closer to the ‘gas giant’. As he lowered, he felt himself entering some sort of atmosphere again, actual wind pushing against him and the air warming from space’s sub-zero. Pushing himself to get as close to the crater as possible, it was only a minute later when he arrived close enough to the planet’s surface to take in every detail of the crater.

Three mounds, as he’d seen from above. Two of them were opposite each other, each about half the size of the earth and sagging out in opposite directions. The third was about as tall but as wide as the other two combined, sitting across the ‘bottom’ of both the other mounds and amassing into a number of (relatively) smaller mounds, all leaned away from the first two.The three met around what was unmistakably a mouth, ringed by the largest and plushest pair of drool-covered lips John had ever seen, still quivering with the cosmic burp they’d just expelled.

Casting his eyes upwards, it was easy to see the rest of the planet’s face when he knew to look for it. The small point sticking up a bit higher between the two ‘cheek’ mounds, that was an almost-buried nose. The almost-flat span of land further up, mashed against but visibly separate from the sloped wall of the crater, that was a sweat-covered brow. And between them, almost forced shut by the sheer bulk around them, a pair of half-lidded eyes, red irises looking out in an expression of dismayed recognition...

“Dave?!”

There was a truly massive exhale of breath from the planet’s - Dave’s??? - mouth, before a familiar voice echoed out, albeit deepened and slowed by how huge he was. “Jawhn... ‘f coourshe yoou’re the one’sh gotta find me firsht...”

“Dave, man, what happened to you?” John moved as close as he could get while still keeping all of Dave’s face in sight, trying to process that the ‘hyperstructure’ he’d been approaching had been his best friend the whole time.

“Trickshter shooda... dooeshn’t micksh with mentoosh...” Every word made Dave’s cheeks flush a darker red (so that was what those spots were, did that mean the white streaks were stretchmarks?). “Guy ghot the jump on me...”

Looking around, John couldn’t see any sign that Dave himself was in Trickster Mode, which at least explained why he seemed resigned to this rather than ecstatic. And without the extra power boost that gave, of course he had no hope of moving (or shrinking) himself.

Just as John opened his mouth to speak again, Dave’s hugely puffy face paled, and his eyes latched onto John’s. “M-maybe yoou shhoould moove over a b-bit, man...”

“Huh? Why-”

PPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMTTTTT...

The burst of gas didn’t come from Dave’s face (and what a gross thought that was), but it was still sufficient to make Dave wobble and quake from the force of it. Being on the other side of Dave meant he wasn’t blown away, but that just forced him to look at Dave’s shame-stricken face as he ripped ass for another solid five minutes, the atmosphere around them both growing thicker and warmer. Dave couldn’t speak immediately in the aftermath, the expulsion winding him such to force him into long, deep pants, and only then did John remember what he’d seen happen last time.

Dashing off to the side, John was only just fast enough to avoid having to fight against the gravity of the planets that had peeled off from above Dave’s face. As he hid behind the rise of one of Dave’s cheeks, he watched the first planet sink lower and lower, until it collided with Dave’s quivering lips like a cartoon jawbreaker.

John could hear Dave’s body-shaking swallow as the planet wedged between his parted lips, its surface quaking slightly as Dave’s lips twitched around it. Every time the sun-sized boy attempted to swallow, it dipped a few more miles into his mouth, causing rivulets of drool to fleck his cheeks as Dave groaned (and... moaned?) in exerted frustration. Eventually it had sunk far enough that, with one more inhale, it fully sank between his lips with an almost comical pop, pushed down his throat by a swallow so powerful it made his whole face ripple in a spreading bwomp of motion that made John wonder if he was still growing.

It was apparently such an effort to swallow a planet that Dave kept panting, attracting the second, third and fourth planet down past his lips. He repeated the same ordeal with each of them, coming out the other side redder, panting heavier, and uncomfortably damp with sweat where John was braced against him.

Finally it seemed no more planets would be dislodged from the cluster high above Dave, and he gathered his breath enough to speak. “I-it... really doeshn’t micksh... s-shoorry...”

“Y-you’re, um, you’re fine... so that happens every time?” John floated away from Dave’s cheek, returning to his previous position. “And you can’t do anything about it?”

“Yep and noope. ‘m shtuck like thish, at leasht ‘till yoou or shomeone elshe fickshesh me.” Now Dave fixed his eyes on John again, this time with much more intent. “You are gonna ficksh me, right?”

“Of course! Yeah, you can’t do anything like that, obviously I’ll help you, Dave!” John nodded quickly in response. “I’ve just gotta, um, figure out where to start... maybe I can alchemise something?”

“Well...” John got the impression Dave had tried to shrug, but of course nothing visibly happened except his brow creased slightly more than it already was. “Get the gearsh grinding, I guessh.”

“Right! But, uh.” Crossing his arms behind his back, John mumbled, “I miiiiiiiight do my brainstorming from the upper atmosphere? No offence, Dave, but you kind of, um, reek?”

The entire crater of Dave’s face went cherry red, but he just sighed. “Fair, I guessh. Plush yoou're not gonna get clipped by anythin’ up there.”

“Yeah, haha. But I won’t leave, I promise! Or at least I’ll come down and tell you if I do.” Before John zipped back up, a thought occurred to him, making him chuckle. “You know, when I saw you, I thought you were some kind of weird supernatural gas giant, but I guess-”

“-c’moon, man, doon’t finishh that-”

“-you kind of are, aren’t you, hehe! Or at least you’re getting there, ‘Planet Shtrider’!”

As John took off from the surface into the cooler (and cleaner) sky above, he giggled to hear a deep, flustered groan follow him upwards.

#really gross stuff #homestuck #fatstuck #farting #dave strider #john egbert #gigafat #macro

[inquisimer]

Stories of Thedas - Day 16: Shield

Alistair uses his shield in a way the manufacturer did not intend

pairing: Sari Mahariel x Alistair

((warning, fluff ahead))

~~~

Sari had never seen snow before.

“What do you mean, never seen snow?” spluttered Alistair. “Aren’t you from Ferelden?”

“Only part time! My clan moves with the seasons, specifically to avoid harsh weather like this.” She tucked her nose against her armor, but the hardened leather did little to ward off the chill. It felt as though she’d been encased in one of Merrill’s winter grasps–which she’d only agreed to do once, because it left her chilled and irate for days. Alistair glanced back over his shoulder and snorted, then unwound Wynne’s scarf from his neck and looped it around Sari’s, all the way up over her nose. 

“Here,” he said softly. “Can’t have you catching your cold before your first real experience with snow.” 

Sari didn’t answer, because she was burrowing her face into the knitted fabric. It was warm from his body heat and it smelled like cinnamon and weeks on the road and something distinctly Alistair. 

They continued up the hill toward the reported location of Haven. A ways to the rear, Wynne and Leliana were bantering good naturedly about something according to the Chantry, which Sari had long since learned to tune out. The higher they climbed, the more the chill seeped through her armor and the harder it was to catch her breath. 

Eventually they reached some sort of wooden structure, like the framing for a gate. Alistair turned on his heel and surveyed the incline. Apparently it was to his liking, because he dropped his pack and his sword, then flipped his shield upside down on the hard-packed snow. When Sari finally reached his chosen position, he gestured to the inverted shield with a wide grin.

“Hop on!”

The muscles in the top half of Sari’s face were a little too numb for her to be sure she’d raised an eyebrow, but she managed to convey her skepticism somehow, because Alistair pouted and gave her a pleading look. 

“Please?” He drew out the word like a child begging for extra sweets. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” 

Sari grumbled, but acquiesced. Her weapons and pack joined his in the snow and she settled cross-legged on the shield. It wobbled precariously and she couldn’t stop a dubious squeak, even though Alistair quickly stabilized her. He chuckled, low and warm and right in her ear, since he’d clambered on behind her and dug his heels into the snow to hold them in place. 

Suddenly, Sari didn’t feel cold at all. 

The shield barely accommodated them both–because it was a shield, and not, say, a cart–so Alistair was pressed close, every inch of her back and neck aligned with his chest. He wrapped his arms loosely around her waist; silently, Sari thanked the absent gods for the layers of leather and metal between them, so he couldn’t feel how her heart was thundering. 

“Ready?” he murmured. 

“No–”

The wind swept away her response as he lifted his heels and their weight carried the makeshift sled forward. Sari, scrambling for purchase, clamped her hands on his arms where they were now tight around her. Her initial terror gave way to swooping exhilaration as they flew down the hill, welling up in bursts of laughter the further they went. They sped past Leliana and Wynne, showering both in a spray of snow. 

The hill seemed much shorter on the way down than the climb up; as they neared the bottom, a wall of snow rose up to meet them. Alistair started muttering curses under his breath, barely audible over the whoosh of the air in her ear, and concern mingled with the joy in her chest. 

“Alistair–”

“Hold on!” he cried. His grip on her waist tightened and his legs tensed; just before they plowed into the snowbank he twisted to the side and pulled her with him, head over feet, so they ended in a snow-dusted tangle a few yards away. His shield didn’t fare half as well–it disappeared into the snowbank in a puff of powder.

They laid still for a few beats, chests heaving and adrenaline pumping. Then they both burst out laughing.

Sari managed to get control first and she extricated herself from his limbs. Her legs were somewhat shaky still, but she helped pull Alistair to his feet and brushed the snow as best she could from both their armor. His hair was adorably mussed and his face was cherry red, as she imagined hers must be as well. 

“You’re insane–that’s what shems do for fun when it snows?”

“C’mon, admit you enjoyed it, even a little?” 

She had enjoyed it, just not for any reasons she was going to tell him. Instead she gave him an indulgent smile, to which he whooped and pumped his hand in the air; she followed it with a groan, when she looked back at the way they came.

“Now we have to climb all the way back up,” she moaned. 

“I’ll carry you,” Alistair offered, but he was looking rather morosely at the place where his shield had vanished. “Do you think Wynne would melt that snow for me?”

“After you blasted her with cold, wet powder?” Sari snorted, rewrapping his scarf around her face. “Not a chance.”

#oc: sari mahariel #my writing #mahariel x alistair #i love them your honor #fluff #dragon age #dao #stories of thedas #long post #warden x alistair

[isleofancients]

Somehow aware, if nothing like lucid. Should they be? Maybe not. Too much passing through a shifting shadow of an unconscious mind...

Breath has never been anything but facade and sound, it's lacking a discomfort at best- so when they find themself breathing hard? Bells' first instinct is to just stop altogether, to grit their teeth, and clench their hands into fists, and wait for the sudden compulsion to pass.

Except it doesn't, and with only a moment more they're gasping for an air they've never needed before- but it does nothing to sooth the sudden, desperate need for air. The world around them seems to wobble, and become hazy, dark...

Panic tries to rise within them, fear and desperation quickly threatening to take hold- only to be met by something with teeth that waits within the darkness behind their eyes. And it suddenly feels, so small, that fear.

It's not only their wings that drip shadows anymore, darkness seems to roll from every inch of the lich now. This darkness though? It's different. Not pseudo shadows and projection, but the very voidstuff that's taken deeper root within them as their magic has grown. This doesn't fall away, swirl and fade, but rises, and begins winding around them... until the darkness is absolute, and Bells seems to vanish.

Somewhere, without light, coarse scales are felt to lift and fall, rasp and scrape. There are claws and smells and tastes, and so, so many sounds. How could they have ever thought the void silent? It sang...

Somewhere, where void held sway, something begin to grow, as it seeking to fill it. Reaching down for earth that wasn't there, and reaching up for sky that didn't exist, it found neither, and that was fine. The void could never be filled, and that was fine too. It made sense. It was right.

Again, the darkness begins to drip, to fall away. As it does though? It reveals no form left behind. Where Bells had been, now nothing remains... and the void stuff pools upon the floor, but doesn't quite go still.

Wispy rivulets reach out, briefly sampling the air, before returning to its greater mass. Hesitant at first, and then slowly, with greater certainty- and then the whole of the darkness extends upwards, winding around itself again, and finally, begins to settle into something more person-shaped-

No sooner do they start to reform, than there's a sudden loud crack! A sound like winter branches, grown too heavy with ice, of splintering boughs, and shattering ice shards... and a crack in the darkness reveals a gleam of a golden something, followed by another, then another. Jagged 'wounds' of amber, scarring the still emerging shape as it continues to form...

Much of them is still lost to sight, but soon, a few features become more distinct. Bones, for one. Rib cage, clavicle... radials and ulnas... first bared, before all these are swept with a layer of manifested magic, reminiscent of ecto, and echoing that of their necromancy... it would be utterly clear, save for what almost seems to be a fine suspension of dust and ash within, rending it a translucent light gray instead... for what can be seen anyway.

Once the shape becomes more visible, more details become visible as well. A soul, seeming to manifest into existence behind their ribs, is left a shifting green and pearlescent marbling, no longer hanging at its usual awkward angle, but fully inverted behind their sternum. And finally, swaths of shadow, and what might be a half seen outline of hidden wings, while wispy strands settle to frame their face.

They've become more literally a creature of darkness than they have ever been, seming literally shaped from the stuff- and yet their outline is one of soft light, and their amber shines with it.

Lastly, though still no other part of their face can be seen, gold/green pools of hazy light become visible as their gaze finally begins to focus again...

"...i... feel funny..."

"I'm not surprised, that was quite the transformation." Rasse says from beside their bed in the recovery room. "Everything went very well though. Can you give me some details on how you're feeling?"

[billiejeanenthusiast]

List of random thoughts 5/7/23

I’m now kind of an adult in the workforce and I have yet to need to transition my make up or clothes “from day to night”. Magazines really lied to me.

I honestly need a Taylor code. Not just bc I really want to see her live. I do. I really do. But bc I just need one good thing to happen to me in life. Lately it’s been rough.

I’m surprised the White House didn’t have a cocine scandal before. It’s literally called White House with the amount of high stress and high stakes I’d bet good Lokey it’s harder to find someone NOT doing cocaine than someone doing it.

I just saw a hot silver fox in his 50s dressed in a crisp shirt and suit pants parking his black Vespa next to the restaurant in my building. And that whole situation is so: Mediterranean summer at lunch hour.

I love Hart of Dixie. The show. I could write an essay on it. I’ve rewatched it so many times. I guess sometimes I’m just nostalgic for living in such a close knit community and small town.

Saturday morning I’m gonna step on that plane with a never bigger mix of emotions. How can I both love to return to a place and have someone absolutely ruining it for me so much I dread going back. I’m so happy to return. But I have the biggest stone in my stomach over it. I hate this feeling.

I hate the 2024 f1 calendar. Not bc it’s bad. But bc my life is so chaotic and I just can’t plan anything. And it makes me sad.

I should’ve taken a pill for my headache before I went to the post office. There’s just one person working and 11 people and it’s SO SLOW

I genuienly do think I’m someone who is happy just with the little things in life.

I GOT THE ERAS TOUR TICKETS CODES FOR SALE….and then immediately I realised that means nothing bc there’s still the whole war of actually buying the ticket.

I think I’ll probably sob through a solid 5-6 songs on that concert.

I think I’ll download glitter conspiracy videos to watch on my flight home.

Or actually no. It’s right the morning after Speak Now TV comes out. I’ll just spend the 45min listening to that.

It scared me that I’m 26 and I don’t feel a day older than like 23/24. I don’t know how to explain it. I’m scared to even say it to people. I just…is there something wrong with me? I blame COVID. I lose two years of my life.

I don’t think there is a single type of chocolate inverted that I would not like. Chocolate and shiny jewellery is the key to my heart. And no I don’t care that it sounds or is basic. Give me a pretty bracelet and some Belgian chocolates for an anniversary or just random day and you will get the freakiest dream come true sex of your life.

I feel like lately the whole universe has been a bit unhinged. Everyone and everything just seems on a looser tether. I can’t properly put into words the feeling but everything feels like it’s way closer to an edge than it was and that balancing on that edge is wobbly. People are more unhinged. The universe and what’s happening. A bunch of people I know have been having the most awful period of their lives. Others have been up to things the fbi couldn’t even come up for a fictional scenario. I too am a bit victim to this. I feel like I just …care less about any perception of me than ever before.

I would love to do one of those colour analysis things but they all feel just so incredibly MLM-ish to me. I’m not saying they are. They just give me that Avon and Mary Kay vibe.

#a compilation of thoughts I had today which I was tempted to tweet out but since I’m on a self imposed life raft here I’ll do this #daily random thoughts #July 2023

[gertlushgaming]

Resident Evil 4 Review (PlayStation 5)

 For our Resident Evil 4 Review, Where Survival is just the beginning. Six years have passed since the biological disaster in Raccoon City. Leon S. Kennedy, one of the survivors, tracks the president's kidnapped daughter to a secluded European village, where there is something terribly wrong with the locals.

Resident Evil 4 Review Pros:

- Stunning graphics. - Download size. - Platinum trophy. - You get the PlayStation 4 and the PlayStation 5 versions of the game. - Graphics mode - resolution or frame rate. - Play data gets uploaded to Re.Net.(optional) - Controller settings - six presets, toggle run, toggle crouch, quick turn type, parry button, repeated button input type, aim to assist type, aim to assist max speed slider, reticule deceleration slider, auto-reload, reset scope magnification, vibration, and adaptive triggers support. - Camera settings - Invert axis and sensitivity sliders for the camera, zoomed-in views, and gameplay. Field of view slider, motion sensor camera control, running camera assist, camera wobble, and motion blur. - Display settings - ray tracing, HDR, brightness slider, Hud, dot display, damage display, Hud opacity, display tips and tutorials, sight settings like color, lens distortion, depth of field, hair strands, and color space. - Accessibility options for - visual, auditory, and motion sickness. - Sound settings allow setting up surround sound, individual noises and effects, and preset. - Extra content shop - earn CP (completion points) and spend on new unlocks and Skins. - Challenges award CP. - Concept art and character viewer. - Three difficulties - assisted, standard, and hardcore. - Action survival horror gameplay. - Fast loading times. - Third-person perspective. - Tutorial pop-ups as you play. - Oozing in Dread and fear. - Uses the controller speaker. - Typewriters are where you save, change out weapons and deal with inventory management. - Your case (storage) can be a customer with skins and charms. - Cutscenes can be skipped. - In-game cutscenes that look incredible. - Familiar controls. - No tank controls or ink ribbons in this one. - Some of the best lighting work in a game. - Powerful and impactful soundtrack. - Quick weapon change menu on the d-pad. - Treasure maps show where valuables are in the game and are on the map. - Stealth kills are gory and practical. - Can approach situations in many different ways. - All crafting recipes are shown when you click craft on an item. - Blue request notes can be found and give out tasks and rewards. (optional) - Send items to the storage that is located at save points. - The merchant allows you to buy/sell/trade/repair and upgrade items and weapons. - Spinel gems are rare rewards and can be used to buy rare items from the merchant. - Upgrade all aspects of your weapons. - Your case (inventory) can be manually or auto-sorted. - The end of the chapter breakdown gives a rundown on performance and time taken. - The merchant will do one-off limited sales of items. - Still had the handy 180-degree turn. - Complete dismemberment engine, shoot off legs and arms, and enemies will crawl and react to shots. - Just like in the other remakes, enemies will react and dodge Gunfire and attacks. - A lot of reasons to replay the game. - Mercenaries game mode is coming as a FREE download. Resident Evil 4 Review Cons: - So many in-app purchases. - You must click on challenges to see if you did any of them. - Cannot rebind controls. - The tutorial pop-ups seem to be delayed or in a weird order. - Signposting is not always the best. - The map takes some getting used to. - Doesnt offers a first-person view. - No VR support. (An FYI more than anything) Related Post: Resident Evil 4: Official website Developer: Capcom Publisher: Capcom Store Links - PlayStation Read the full article

#PlayStation4 #PlayStation5

[georgewfmpyear2]

Finding an art style

While at home I decided to try and find ways that I can create the out of a book feeling art style and I started by taking a deeper look at post process materials, particularly creating outlines around objects which has always been something that I'm interested in doing. I spent a long time trying to find a tutorial that both, I at least somewhat understand and also actually works and eventually I found this page that I linked about.

this was done in a post process material, starting off with a small section of code that uses a material function to get the edges of the UVs on any object currently being rendered, it then runs this through another section of code that cuts off at the effect at a distance and then a third section of code which applies the outline effect around objects onto the screen. I can't explain it much more detail then that as I'm only sure on how it works in a very broad sense and don't fully understand the more specific elements of how it works.

This created a nice, toon like black outline for all objects on screen but it didn't quite match what I want, at least not until I decided to try combining it with the painting like post process effect I'd made previously. Which takes this wibbly wobbly landscape texture and adds it to the UV texture coordinates of whatever is currently being rendered before applying that to the screen to create a watery, wobbly, painting like effect on screen.

Using both the painting and outline materials at the same time makes the outlines look more like sketches with rough edges and gives everything a quickly done sketch look which I think is perfect for the visual direction I wanted to go in, creating a nice mix between the note book style of drawn to death and my own bright, solid colour visuals I've made in previous projects..

Using post process materials to create the art style like this also means that I don't have to work with the a very specific visual direction in mind when creating models to use since its all applied in engine with these materials.

[jonathankatwhatever]

I just saw how the sense of predestination works. It was very pretty, and quite clear now that I’m getting reasonable at reading the signs. You do know Learning From Las Vegas, right? And the concept of clutter competing, which is an ordering with qualities of anxiety, meaning of nervous energy, of which we have a great deal. This models as one layer wobbling in relation to structure in the other layer, which I think means that when the structure in the other layer is tipping back and forth, positive and negative, alternation, then that generates short and thus smaller scale chains constructing. This is really neat: to see the ideas mechanically function like this. Those smaller scale chains … oh, I completely forgot, earlier today, I had a huge realization I need to remember. What was it? I remember how annoyingly bright the sun was in my eyes and the wind in my face. On the way, I saw a few pair of geese sort of fighting, meaning not actually biting but being aggressive as heck and very loud.

I have PSG v Bayern on in the background. It’s still 8 Mar 2023. I don’t know how to coach a team like PSG when the problem is they don’t support each other because they’re supposed to each be so talented they don’t really need the help unless it’s obvious they need help. That causes a laxness in defensive response. How do you convince talented players not to trust the others so much but to act as though their teammates aren’t nearly as good as they are?

What was I thinking about? A story in which a person has actual amnesia, with the twist that the other is instructed not to share specific information because that would create false memories. Two people, one knows the other intimately and the other has no memory of this other than the fact that this intimacy did happen. I like it as a way to introduce two complete characters who have already gone past the meet cute and romantic love part, but who now have to get to know each other in complicated ways. The one with amnesia is on a personal quest not for the past but for the present of what am I as a person, while the other is evaluating, is comparing this person to the person from before. The glue would be young children with little to no memory of the one with amnesia. Or something else. Imagine waking up to be told you’re married with 2 young children. Imagine being the other person. It’s an interesting identification relationship. As in, the amnesiac can better define themself by what the other is like and how that person acts, because that is a mirror of what was. I like it because I can play both roles in my head because they’re equal, which means they invert over a Counter which acts as an =.

Is this about the barrier? And the emptiness of space? The barrier is always a Counter. I’m happy with the way we have that worked out, that tObjects have barriers, which we can describe in various ways, including as a Thing in complex space, because grid squares and Triangular can reduce to dimensional minimums, meaning to potential. I have not yet stumbled across a magic way to say the D4-3 meets the D3-4, and that guarantees a Counter and that is a boundary when extended to D3-4 and thus multiple Counters for the multiple pieces and perspectives, etc. I hope it’s clear that this is a proof: you get a Counter because D4-3 meets D3-4. Maybe we can pin that down: from iObjects that connect outward to say iThings and iObjects that connect inward to Things and thus tObjects. We said this before.

So at the surface of a tObject is an iObject. And the surface of a Thing is an iObject. This seems to be true for surfaces, with the inside coming to the inner edge of the DE. Like a form of open set. We know all this: what is going on beyond a recitation? Boundaries between iObjects? Here’s a thought: I see iObjects resolving to a pseudo-tObject, meaning a representation form which includes all the actual tObjects. So, treating this like manifolds and surreals and other forms exposes the higher dimensional view.

This is getting toward what I got earlier. It was about inversion to the limit of significance, which of course relates to surreals. I was trying to describe the difference between a set and a class, and I realized it was that the class is when you take the set as a form. Thus classes as combinations of forms as well. So, as I vaguely remember, the images showed reduction to a cut point, meaning to an End, meaning to where you no longer care about, perhaps can’t see the processes occurring beyond. This can only exist because of I//I. That is, these inversions occur across that Counter,

Note we can express these using tangents, tangent planes, tangent spaces.

I’m very tired. Neat idea about how iObjects are part of iThings which have at their core some reference, some form which connects to the tObject, etc.

[sabineelectricheart]

Domitila [Pt. 2]

Summary: Sylvain encounters Dimitri and Byleth. Their interaction reveals a secret that he did not feel prepared to face.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 1905

Notes: So, I inverted the part 1 and 2 I usually make. I hope you liked it anyways.

It had been two years since Sylvain Gautier formally ended his marriage to Byleth, and it was the first time he had been back in the palace since.

It was a strange sensation being back here. He was overwhelmed with familiarity for his childhood and teen years, but the memories that were returned were not all happy and youthful. The aristocracy ruined his marriage to the love of his life, and the palace was the pinnacle of the nobility. Even now, he does not know how to separate his love from his resentment.

Especially regarding the king.

Dimitri was one of his best friends, besides Ingrid and Felix, and nothing could change that. However, unlike with his other childhood friends, there had always been an inkling of mutual resentment hiding under the surface of their friendship, even if it was overpowered by fraternal love.

Dimitri longed for Sylvain’s freedom and debauched carelessness about life while Sylvain secretly wished for Dimitri’s privilege and effortless skills, but it truly came to the surface when Byleth entered their lives. She was the object of both of their affections, and she ended up picking Sylvain.

They managed to bridge that divide, becoming friends once more, but it was different. As the marriage turned sour, Sylvain frequently wished he could be more like Dimitri. Every day, it seemed more and more like Dimitri had been the right choice, and Sylvain was just a costly mistake.

Still, seeing Dimitri forced a brotherly swell of affection to sweep through Sylvain, and he beamed at his old friend as he worked his way through the party to find him.

“Sylvain! I didn’t think you would actually make it!” Dimitri’s excitement lit up his bright blue eyes, and for a moment, he looked like the kid Sylvain knew and not the stately king he was today.

“How could I miss it? You’re getting old, Dimitri. You may not have many more birthday celebrations in you.” Sylvain joked, earning Dimitri’s hardy chuckle as he clapped the redhead on the back.

“I’m actually two years younger than you, Sylvain. You will be thirty-six soon, my friend.” Dimitri teased him in return.

It felt like old times, yet something is lurking in Dimitri’s stare. Something that made Sylvain uneasy, so he elected just ignored it, as he is prone to do.

“So, I was thinking. How about we ring in your thirty-third birthday like we celebrated your eighteenth?” Sylvain suggested, a smirk spreading across his lips.

“You want to steal my dad’s whiskey and get drunk in the maze?” Dimitri laughed incredulously.

“Don’t forget sneaking past your security detail and pretending they don’t notice when we wobble back wasted.” Sylvain retorted, making Dimitri laugh even harder.

Dimitri shook his head. “As tempting as that sounds, old friend, we’ll have to do this at another time. Unfortunately, I have some other obligations to attend to tonight.”

“Obligations at two in the morning?” Sylvain cocked an eyebrow. “Does this obligation have a name?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dimitri lied, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he turned his attention to the gin and tonic in his hands.

Dimitri was an excellent negotiator, but he could not conceal his tells from his childhood friend.

“Sure, I get you.” Sylvain’s smirk grew wider. “Well, hypothetically speaking, if this obligation happened to be a woman, would this be a woman you’re dating or something casual?”

Sylvain could not help but feel a bit jealous as he discussed his friend’s new romantic partner. Their friendship had grown somewhat distant after Sylvain moved back to Gautier to take care of the land, but their mutual support persisted.

When Dimitri stepped up to the podium at the palace’s audience room eighteen months ago, hoping to announce the dissolution of his ailing marriage, he had the condolences of the entire nation, but it was the phone call from his best friends that really helped him bear the life change.

Ingrid and Felix also came along, him to help out with bureaucratic business and her to take the two princes away for an extended holiday in Brigid, to shield them from the increased media attention. Sylvain did nothing of the sort, but he did send a few dozen bottles of artisanal Gautier whiskey to “warm up his lonely nights”.

The two men had something in common. Though Sylvain undoubtedly loved Byleth more than Dimitri ever loved Marianne, they shared their failed marriages.

Dimitri finding someone new was hardly surprising, and Sylvain was happy that his friend could move on with life, but he envied it. Sylvain knew his marriage was over. He and Byleth grew apart and had divorce papers to prove it, but even if he knew their love had faded, he does not know how to love anyone else.

“Well…” Dimitri lowered his voice, a genuine smile on his lips as he looked around to make sure that no one listened in. “Dating, I’d say.”

“Why haven’t you told me?” Sylvain managed to separate the hurt from his voice, but that does not mean he did not feel it.

“Right now, we just want to keep it between us. Once the gossip begins and the media gets involved, things are different.” Dimitri paused when he saw the flash of sadness in Sylvain’s eyes, and guilt weighed on his heart.

He never meant to hurt his friend. Strategically, he avoided sensitive topics and did what he could to help Sylvain, but sometimes hurt was inevitable.

Dimitri swallowed hard and reluctantly began, “There’s actually something we should talk about.”

Sylvain’s attention was stolen from Dimitri by a glimpse of mint green hair in the distance. Faintly, he recognized her laugh, and despite his attempts to look away, he stared into the crowd until he saw her face.

Byleth was discussing something with a man Sylvain does not recognize, a polite chuckle coming out every now and then again, but the laugh rarely reached her cool violet eyes.

When they divorced, she took nothing. While it had been so under the pre-nuptial agreement his parents made them sign, he still wanted her to have at least the house in Fhirdiad and some alimony. She refused it, and she even left her car, designer clothing and jewellery behind.

All she took with her were her old stuff, her grandmother’s wedding gift, which was an old set of plates, and the photo albums. Which basically amounted to the physical registry of her presence in his life.

The man refused to accept it, and so decided to pay towards his mother-in-law’s health treatments, and also asked Dimitri to find a position for her, so she would not have to move back into her aging parents’ home back in Garreg Mach, strained thin as they already were. Also, because, in some level, he thought it was much easier for them to get back together if they lived in the same country, even if that never actually comes to be.

While he knew that his ex-wife was furious for his meddling, as retold by Ingrid when she visited his ancestral home a few months after their divorce, he also knew that she excelled in her position as the Chancellor of the Royal Ballet Company. It brought him way too much self-satisfaction when he thought about that.

Byleth was the picture of elegance in her simple evening dress, but the teal blue colour reminded him of the night he took his friends on the tour of Garreg Mach that changed his life, as it looked like her glazed eyes on the terrible lighting of the Wilted Rose. He looked to the side, hoping to find a girl to chat up that evening, and there she was, holding a drink in her hand, as if she was just waiting for him.

His reverie is suddenly halted as she pushes her hair behind her ear. Her ring finger lacked the familiar twinkle of the engagement ring he had given her.

She’s not mine anymore, Sylvain realized with chilling certainty.

Foolishly, he thought he could go the whole night without seeing her. He thought he could hang on the edge of the party long enough for her to leave the ball, but here she was. Just as beautiful as ever.

“Of course, we should be honoured if you shot your concert at the Royal Opera! If I may completely honest, I’m a great fan of Ms. Arnault.” Byleth’s voice grew clearer as she walked closer, and Sylvain felt paralyzed.

Part of him urged him to run before she saw him, but another part chastised him for such a thought. He had spent the last eight years mourning the demise of their relationship. It has been time enough, and he figures that he is grown-up enough to handle one encounter at a party.

Still, he did not expect Byleth to walk right up to them.

“Your Majesty, I want to introduce…” Her voice dies on her throat when she realizes who it was standing there, talking with the king.

Byleth stopped abruptly when she saw Sylvain, losing her words as she came face-to-face with her ex-husband for the first time since their divorce.

“Sylvain.” She breathed, her eyes washing over him as if trying to prove it was really Sylvain Gautier standing in front of her.

“Byleth.” Her name slipped off his tongue as effortlessly as his own would have.

The man accompanying Byleth looked between the former spouses with confusion, unsure what prompted their odd behaviour. He stared at the woman expectantly, still waiting for the introduction she had offered him earlier in the night, and his burning gaze forced her to snap out of it.

“My apologies.” Byleth blushed, pushing her hair behind her ear in the nervous habit Sylvain recognized. “Ferdinand von Aegir, I would like to introduce you to Margrave Sylvain Gautier.”

The man held out his hand for Sylvain to shake, and the redhead shook it in return, his eyes not straying from Byleth.

“And this is His Majesty, King Dimitri.” Byleth finished her introductions as the other man dipped into a polite bow, to which Dimitri insisted on shaking his hand. “Lord Aegir is the manager of Dorothea Arnault, the opera singer. He was just telling me how much his client wants to bring her upcoming project to Fhirdiad.”

Ferdinand was apparently prepared with a pitch for the king, hoping to get the monarch’s approval on his adaption centring on the War of the Lion and the Eagle. He began to launch into his excited speech and waved his arms too quickly, and, due to having had a few flutes of champagne already, ended up sending a glass of sparkly towards the Chancellor.

She stepped out of the way just in time, saving her ball gown from the liquid but wetting her high heels.

“Beloved, are you alright?” Dimitri instinctively moved towards her, his voice a whisper just for her.

Though she laughed off the accidental spill, she did not laugh at his ostensibly weird reaction. She did not laugh about how close he was or that he had even called her beloved. It was as if it was all natural.

The moment was small and seemingly insignificant, but it was a sliver of the truth. It was the stolen moment they had briefly shown the world, and Sylvain witnessed it.

Nothing could have prepared him for that.

*_*_*_*_*

Domitila Masterlist

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist

#fire emblem #Sylvain Gautier #Dimitri Blaiddyd