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dollfacefantasy · 2 days

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kenny. omg. hear me out. being rick’s stress relief during the alexandria arc of s5 😵‍💫 like omg yeah he’s clean shaven now but can’t go two days w/o fighting w someone from alexandria, got restrained by michonne n everything… figures he needs smth else to keep the group in alexandria’s good graces and settles on smth along the lines of free use w you!! can’t be too shitty of a day if you get fucked into the mattress by the end of it ♡

hnghhh em omg i love you so bad. ur genius for this. i put a little backstory because i'm physically incapable of not being longwinded lol <3

rick grimes x fem!reader

rick needs a little stress relief with all the new responsiblities at alexandria

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, age gap (early 20s/late 30s)

You always thought stress was supposed to decrease someone’s sex drive, but now that you were getting fucked dumb every single night, you were sure that wasn’t true.

Rick had to be the most wound up person you’d ever known, constantly up in arms about something. Ever since he and his group arrived at your once peaceful community, there’d been nothing but conflict. At best it was petty drama, at worst guns were drawn and brains were about to be splattered all over the pavement.

The worst it got was that day you saw him in the middle of the street hunched over the doctor like a rabid dog. You’d stayed back, keeping your distance from him as he waved his gun around and rambled on about control. Crimson blood dripped from his hairline all over his face. You couldn’t tell whether it belonged to him or the incapacitated man beneath him.

You’d never seen anyone like him. Living in Alexandria since the start of the outbreak meant you were pretty sheltered. The people here rarely raised their voices let alone tackled each other through windows. He looked like the physical manifestation of what everyone warned you life outside the walls was like.

It was scary, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

Needless to say, you were pretty eager to offer yourself up to take the position watching him while the others decided what to do going forward.

You entered the room while he was still asleep. He was as peaceful as you’d ever seen him. Taking a seat in the chair beside the bed, you looked at him almost as if he was encased in glass, a specimen for your examination. His skin still had the scarlet tint of blood. His brown curls lie stuck between his temple and the ratty old pillow on the bed.

It startles you a bit when his eyes flutter open and connect with yours. Awkwardness sludges through your veins, but he looks you over like it’s nothing. You know you’re one of the least threatening people he’s come across in the new world.

“You’re the one they got babysitting me, huh?” he rasps.

“I guess so,” you respond with more timidness than you would like.

His tongue slides out between his lips and licks the chapped skin while he continues to stare you down. It’s hard not to squirm in your seat, to shift your thighs against one another and make your desire known. Before you have a chance to think through your course of action though, he speaks again.

“Are you nervous?” he asks, his tone not looking to provoke a reaction but simultaneously wanting you to recognize your inferiority.

You shrug. He wasn’t gonna get the satisfaction. Not yet anyways.

“Are you scared of me?” he continues.

“No,” you answer.

“Good,” is all he says in response.

That was the last thing he said to you that day, but you could still hear the simple syllable in your mind. He might have been done talking to you. You weren’t through with him though. Under the guise of being assigned to watch him, you continued to linger around him as he went about his tasks in the community.

You tended to follow him around like a puppy. You were curious about him, watching him with inquisitive eyes, peeking over his shoulder as he cleaned his gun or tuned his transceiver. Your gazes were adoring too. It was obvious that you admired the way he could take control of a room with his words, how his people looked to him with reverence when he spoke.

He intoxicated you. In a world lacking things to do, observing Rick became a hobby for you.

He noticed of course, but he couldn’t say he minded. At least someone in this fucking place had an interest in survival and saw the value in listening to him. Plus, it didn’t hurt that you were pretty cute. He didn’t mind your company, didn’t mind teaching you things here and there. In his eyes, you were the least annoying out of all the new people here.

You both were on watch when you got a little promotion from least annoying. The two of you were sitting on the platform attached to the wall. It was night. Neither of you could sleep. Instead of telling you bits and pieces of the nightmares that kept sleep from him, he decided to teach you how to put a scope on a rifle. Nodding along to each thing he says, you watch his fingers and take note of every little thing he does. He gives you a few tries with it, but you’re still struggling to get the thing attached.

That’s when he looks at you, his expression unchanging, and pats his lap.

“C’mere.”

It’s out of your control really. You don’t even have a second to think about it before your legs have pushed you across the platform to the spot he beckoned you. With your back against his chest, his arms encase you and come around front to show you up close how to fasten the scope. When he’s done, he detaches it and makes you try.

His hands slide down your arms, lingering on the skin for longer than needed. They trail down to your sides then your hips. You bite your lip and try to focus on the task he wants you to perform rather than his touch. But then he leans forward to watch your hands work. His chin hovers above your shoulder. You can hear his breaths next to your ear. Once you’ve got it, you can essentially picture his subtle smirk in your mind.

“Good girl,” he croons teasingly.

You turn your head slightly, looking at him with your wide, innocent eyes. He chuckles and reaches up to stroke your cheek. Neither of you know what you’re really doing but one thing leads to another and you’re kissing. Then he’s got his hand up your shirt, groping your tits. It all comes to head and ends up with you straddling him, sinking down on his cock and burying your head in his shoulder.

Biting the fabric of his t-shirt to keep quiet, you begin to rise and fall. It felt so good as if it was what your body had been aching for. You felt the most alive you ever had in this shitty new world, and if the way he was gripping your hips and returning your thrusts were any indication, Rick felt the same way.

You both grunt and moan quietly as your bodies rut together with a primal desire for satisfaction. His lips glide over your collarbone and up your neck to the spot behind your ear. You let out a sharp whine which causes him to grin.

“Need you to be quiet, sweetheart,” he chides, “Don’t want to wake any of the others, do you?”

You’re quick to shake your head and cover your mouth with your palm, but you don’t stop bouncing. You needed him deep, rearranging your insides to a perfect mold for him.

“Then again,” he breathes, “They could stand to learn a thing or two from you. So obedient, eager to please…”

His words trail off as he helps you ride him. You’re so tight and warm, and for the first time since he set foot through those walls, his mind feels clear. He doesn’t hear the constant jabbering for his attention. His head doesn’t throb with the sensation of being pulled in five different directions. It’s like each thrust into your heat clears away a worry. By the time he cums, he feels drained of all his stress.

He needed more of that feeling. He couldn’t get enough of it. It was the start of a routine for the two of you. Everyday at least once, you were getting fucked till you were a drooling, dazed mess. And sometimes it was more than once. Sometimes he had you on your knees in the armory in the afternoon or pulled you into a storage closet on a morning supply run.

He had fifteen years on you, but most of the time he was the one leaving you exhausted.

And today had been a particularly bad day for Rick. Everything that could go wrong did. Alexandria was running low on a collection of different things, walkers were gathering at the East wall, one of the gate’s locks was rusting, a sprinkler broke, and on top of everything, he had to deal with everyone’s constant bitching.

The only thing that kept him from losing his shit was the thought of you laid in his bed at night waiting for him, batting your long eyelashes over those pretty doe eyes as you sat there in nothing but his t-shirt and a pair of panties. The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough.

He grits his teeth and dashes all across the community to try and get everything solved by sundown. The workload keeps him busy which fortunately makes the time go by faster. He also tries his best to keep his cool with people. There was no use starting petty conflicts when he had something much nicer to screw with now.

As soon as everyone’s headed off to bed and all the perimeters have been checked, he can’t get home fast enough. He’s quiet coming in. He didn’t wanna wake anyone. If someone got in his way now, he’d flip his lid worse than any of them had ever seen.

He’s up the stairs in seconds, taking them two at a time. Whisking the bedroom door open, a deep sigh seeps from his lungs as he sees his daydreams become realities of the night. Your pretty legs are on display for him as you lounge in the bed reading a book. He crosses the room and grabs you by the ankle to pull you closer to the edge of the bed. You already know what time it is and feel a dull tingle in the pit of your belly.

“Stressful day?” you ask as you finish the page you were on.

“Is the sky still blue?” he grumbles as he presses a kiss to your calf then another further up against your knee.

You smile at the quip, placing the book on the nightstand just in time as he flips you over onto your stomach. He climbs on top of you, squeezing your waist and nuzzling his face against your neck.

“Those people don’t even know how much they should be thanking you, baby,” he mumbles, “They don’t even know how many times a day you save their asses.”

You squirm a little beneath him as his fingers hook around your panties and tug them down. The sound of his zipper follows and it’s no time before you feel the weight of his dick against you.

“Needed you so bad all day,” he says.

“I needed you too,” you whimper as you feel slick gathering between your thighs.

He nips at your earlobe and rubs his hands up under his shirt you have on to tease the sides of your breasts.

“S’cute, honey,” he whispers, “Thinking about me while you did your little chores, hm?”

“Yeah,” you whine as he starts to line himself up and slot himself in the correct position.

It was such a familiar feeling, but each time it still made a chill run through you. Your insides ached with the pleasure that came from being filled up by him.

“Perfect girl. That’s just the way it should be,” he mutters.

He wastes no time before he starts thrusting. It only takes a couple before he starts groaning too. On nights like these, he was in no mood to take his time or savor the moment.

“So tight for me, Christ,” he chokes out, “There’s nothing like you.”

You moan softly too, putting your head down to muffle your sounds with the blanket. His hand rests around your neck for leverage as he fucks into you faster.

“That’s right, pretty baby. You’re so good for me. Givin’ me what I need. You’re the only one who can,” he grunts.

He snaps his hips harder, trying to find the limit of how hard he could go without being too loud or smacking the headboard into the wall. You claw at the ratty blankets on the bed as your toes curl. Your head turns to the side a little to peek up at him, and his eyes roll back.

“Everyone’s always fucking looking to me for something. No one can look at me like you can though. Those gorgeous eyes, all glossy for me. Not a thought behind ‘em right now,” he pants.

You nod weakly while digging your teeth into your lip again. It was getting harder to suppress the noises with the blanket alone.

“Rick…” you whimper, “Oh fuck, Rick.”

You gasp as he starts hitting the perfect spot. His stiff cock slips effortlessly in and out of you over and over and brushes that nook each time.

“Mhm. You’re the only one I wanna hear calling my name. Everyone here’s always whining for me, bitching for something. Not my girl though. The only time I hear you whining is when I’m balls deep, fucking you like you deserve,” he whispers.

You nod against the mattress. Your body rocks with the momentum of each thrust. Every stroke was working you closer to the edge, and Rick could feel his own impending as well.

Both his hands slide down to your hips to grip them hard. He keeps grinding and rolling his hips into you.

“Give it to me, princess. Lemme feel it. Gotta get my fix,” he says just as you start to tense up and jerk around below him.

You cum with a high moan into the plush fabric beneath you. Your body trembles and twitches as it handles the rush of euphoria. He keeps fucking you through it. His own noises start getting needier, closer to whimpers than groans. He grunts for a second as he finally feels release. He pulls out quickly and lets it spurt all over your ass. He’d so much rather do it inside, but he really didn’t need something else to worry about nine months from now.

With his release, the both of you are able to settle down for the night. He rolls off of you and quickly gets you cleaned up, so he can crawl into bed and hold you against his chest. The second most soothing thing to your pussy was the warmth of your body against him.

“So good for me, sweetheart. Always make things so good for me,” he sighs and lazily kisses your head, ready to drift off with the comfort of knowing this little scene would repeat itself tomorrow.

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes smut #twd smut #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #twd imagine

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chaithetics · 2 days

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GIRLLLL OMGGGG YOUR MONEKY MAN FIC HELLO?? HELLOOOO???? so good. i just came back from watching it and wtf. now that is how u direct and that is how u make a profound film. (i’m glazing him and this film so hard but idc i just want 1 chance dev PLS JUST GIMME 1 ONE IS ALL I NEED) also r u indian? cuz when i saw the “jaan” i read it it in his voice and my knees literally almost hit the ground like i was like 😧🌚😜😍🤭🤭😋😋🤤🥰 the whole time!!! if i may, can i request another monkey man fic/drabble/whatever u wanna make it but it’s about how they met? basically like a backstory on how they met and got together. thank youuu! 🫶🏽

Blood-Stained Meetings, Nauseous Introductions

Pairing: Kid (Monkey Man) x reader Word count: 2.6K Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mentions of anxiety, injuries/blood, longing, reader has no physical description, a kiss, no smut. Not proof or beta read. A/N: Hey lovely Nonnie, so glad you enjoyed the film! It's so good! Dev Patel is so talented. I hope you and everyone else reading this and in the fandom enjoys this fic! 🫶(Please do and validate me, I'm scared it's TERRIBLE and I'm not happy with this, genuinely terrified lol) Comments, reblogs etc. are always more than appreciated and encouraged! Enjoy 🥰 Gif by @junkfoodcinemas Somewhat inspired by an old chat with the talented @mittos about how reader would probably hate seeing him fight, and tagging @lialilalo because I feel bad about ending up taking a week to get this out since your ask!

Sure, there were probably worse ways to spend a Friday night, but you also knew that there were definitely much better ways to spend a Friday night as well. But you simply weren’t the kind of person who did better things on a Friday night, that wasn’t in your DNA. Obviously. This was your brother's idea of fun after all.

It didn’t surprise you that this was how your adult brother wanted to spend the start to his weekend and drag you along, or that this was a frequent pastime of his. It didn’t mean that it horrified you any less though.

You’d sighed and dreaded this for hours, days probably, subconsciously.

Yet, you still were here. You’d changed out of your work clothes for this, you’d tried to make yourself as presentable as possible when you knew it was an effort you’d see reflected in your brother. You were dreading leaving your home and having to blend into the sea of bloodthirsty betters you were about to find yourself in.

You walk with your brother and one of his friends into the building, it’s large and crowded. Everyone is packed in like sardines as they yell about what odds they’re betting on, who’s the biggest and strongest, who’s the most nimble-footed and quickest, and who is the immediate runt of the competitors. You can already feel yourself becoming stressed, at this environment. You don’t understand the appeal of this but you understand how it can become a reality with the world that you’re all in.

The heat stings your face like a slap, as you stand there, close to your brother so you don’t get split up in this sea and he rambles in your ear about who he placed a bet on, how they usually do. All of the information that seems so important in a moment like this to everyone else. But you’ve seen enough blood, you don’t need to be fascinated by people getting bloodied up like this. It’s a privilege that you’ve been able to avoid this your whole life.

If you were seeing this at home, or if it wasn’t so packed in here tonight, you’d feel a little less self-conscious. And if you felt a little less self-conscious, you’d be chewing on your nails, all the way down to the nail bed. Until you felt the all too familiar sting of going too far. You give your hand a little shake to try and get rid of that urge, now’s not the place or time to wear your nerves on your sleeve. So instead, you try to offer up a small smile to your brother as he leads you to a spot on some benches nearby.

The bench is relatively close to the ring, but it’s good, you’re already overstimulated and trying to make it up further to higher seats isn’t an idea that agrees with you right now, and it surely promises you a quick exit if needed. You look around, the dim lighting further adds to everything, your eyes scan the faces of those in the crowd and you look out at the ring. It’s big, you think, but you’re not sure if it’s a standard size or not for this sport.

An announcer enters the ring, he looks sleazy and has a large, sly smirk pasted onto his face, one that makes you uncomfortable. You look at your brother to try and share a knowing glance but he’s focused on what’s in front of you both. You let out a quiet sigh as you tilt your head back to focus on what’s in front of you.

The announcer opens his mouth and he speaks in a South African accent, that surprises you and you can’t help but look at your brother again. He announces himself as Tiger. This night is already so random, and you have a feeling that it’s only going to get more wild.

“He’s the owner.” Your brother says as he tilts his head to whisper loudly in your ear. You can hear him over the whooping, clapping, and chants that have started. You nod as you look back at the ring, trying to pay attention to what you’re going to soon witness. Despite how overwhelming it all is.

Tiger then introduces a fighter who’s dressed to almost look like a reptile, he’s introduced as King Kobra and gets a warm, adoring welcome from the audience with thunderous applause and cheers. You don’t clap as you can’t help but look around instead, taking it all in. It’s a lot and there’s so many people here, here just for this.

Tiger then starts to introduce King Kobra’s opponent, his voice changes and it’s tinged with an antagonising disgust, he’s clearly trying to rile the audience up into booing, and not rooting for whoever it is. You can’t help but feel your curiosity grow at that. It feels childlike how it’s said, but you see the audience respond just as Tiger wishes. The opponent is Monkey Man, he quickly comes out and makes his way into the ring. He moves quickly and he bounces on his feet for a moment as he gets further into the zone. He stands there, waiting for the noise to confirm it’s the start, the start of a fight where he can maybe get one or two punches in before he has to keel over for his pay. Pay that he’ll probably have to bargain for.

He stands in the ring and he can’t help but spend a second focusing on the face he sees in the front row. Kid is sure he hasn’t seen that face here before, it’s a pretty face, but he can’t help but notice the anxiety pooled in those eyes or your body language. He tilts his head slightly, it doesn’t seem to be the kind of anxiety some of the gamblers here have before the match, the ones who are risking it all for an expensive thrill and painful rush, to live vicariously through him and the other men adorned in animal masks and names.

Kid turns his head away from you and tries to focus back on his work. You don’t even notice that the man in the ring has been staring at you, taking you and your nerves in for a few, long but oh so short seconds.. How could you? With that mask? You can’t see his face, but you can see there’s a lanky figure standing there, hiding under the mask and donning the monkey man mantle. He’s tall and slender but you can see there’s some muscle on his arms, from what you can see of the sweat and blood-stained undershirt he wears, his chest is toned as well.

You don’t know it yet, but you can feel something realign, change in this moment. You’re just not sure what it is, or if this feeling is even real, or if it’s just another symptom of somatic anxiety. Right now, you think it’s probably just that.

After almost another minute of the crowd booing Monkey Man and chanting out for the King Kobra, the match begins. Each of the men takes a moment to size the other one up, watching the other’s moves before the first hit lands. It’s King Kobra, he strikes Monkey Man.

King Kobra goes to throw another punch, he moves quickly and he’s very agile, yet Monkey Man somehow dodges this one. His landing with the dodge isn’t perfect, but it gets him out of the way. He throws a punch to King Kobra and the crowd erupts into boos at that. It’s even more louder and clearer than before who they’re all rooting for and aren’t. The crowd’s response seems to motivate King Kobra as he quickly moves and starts to deliver blow after blow.

You barely feel the noise of the crowd’s screams of joy and cheers as this happens and King Kobra gets his footing back. Your eyes widen as you watch, you see blood starting to fall as Monkey Man loses his way in this match.

You let out a gasp as he falls to the ground. King Kobra slithers around the ring, posing and feeding off of the crowd’s response before he goes in for the kill shot. He delivers it and you feel yourself slightly jump. It’s terrifying to you, you don’t see the appeal in this, you can only start to mentally list off all of the physical trauma this causes. You sigh as you watch King Kobra be declared the winner of this match, it sounds like a recurring event, you gaze over at your brother who looks ahead with a large smile of awe, obviously happy with whatever return he’s getting on the bets he’d made beforehand

Monkey Man slowly tries to limp his way out of the ring and backstage, you look at your brother and quickly whisper that you need to check on this man. You have to, it’s basically a moral and ethical obligation. Your brother sighs and nods, you quickly move off of the bench and it doesn’t take much for you to catch up to this masked man. “How are you feeling? I’m a nurse.” You say to him and he nods slowly, you can hear his ragged pants from under the mask, the mask is drenched in sweat along with the rest of his body.

As you slowly walk backstage with him to the locker room that’s pungent with the sweat of costumed men masquerading as animals and characters you’d find in The Ramayana. There’s blood stains visible throughout the floors and walls, and you can taste the copper of the crimson in the air, impossibly so. You don’t know how but you can. You ignore these other bodies floating in your periphery as you walk to a sink with the Monkey Man, he leads the way, naturally.

As you approach the sink together he immediately puts his hands on the edge and spits out a thick string of blood, you’re used to seeing blood but in this context, you can’t help but feel your nose screw up a little. It’s awful.

He tilts his head to look up at you, your eyes meet him and you offer him a small smile and give him your name. He looks at you, taking in the way that your lips curl up and how they do so genuinely. He gives a small nod, one you’d have missed if you’d blinked just a few seconds earlier. He just tells you that his nickname is Kid. Maybe he’s been fighting since he was very young. You don’t ask. Not yet.

You turn the faucet on at the sink, to try and wash his blood away so that you can start trying to clean the damage of tonight’s fight, off of him.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, he knows you’re not the type of person to come to these events. You’re not a regular and it’s clear from your face, you’re not a fan of these displays of violence.

“My brother. It’s his birthday this weekend.” You say quietly as you wipe the blood off. “Have you broken your nose?” He looks up at you with a small smile, it makes sense. Your brother was probably the man beside you, he thinks. Kid can’t quite remember his face. He then shrugs at your question. His nose doesn’t feel too bad right now, but he knows he’s probably broken it at some stage.

“You’re not sure?” You ask him, he shakes his head. You immediately notice how quiet he is, but despite his silence, his eyes are so reactive and expressive that you feel like you know more than what his words could give you.

“Do you have issues breathing? It doesn’t look bad, there’s just a small scar there. They often heal pretty well on their own.” You say as if to reassure him, even though you know that it probably isn’t something that would bother him. There wouldn’t be much he could do now anyway about that. You don’t like that thought.

Kid stays there perfectly still as your stomach is now over its nausea and your hand touches his skin so gently as you try to offer him some kindness, some respect, some dignity, some simple compassion and care. His eyes soften as he realises that and looks up at you. There’s a glow from within you, even in the artificial lighting of the locker room and it’s easy for him to block out the chaos in here and focus on your gentleness.

He’s barely ever touched, except for when a blow hits in a match, it’s never this gently. He doesn’t even know how to show himself that level of care when he bandages himself up at the end of each night that he fights.

There’s not much of a conversation as you bandage him up but somehow, you don’t really notice it and it’s completely okay with you. There’s a comfort in his quietness, his stillness. It’s one he finds in you as well, perfectly requited. You put a hand on his arm gently as you just finished putting a bandage on him. He takes your hand slowly, and he examines it. You’ve never had someone look at your hair, analysing every hair on your knuckles and by your wrist. It’s a unique way to be seen. He then takes your hand and gently turns it over, taking his time as he does. Kid looks at your palm, at all the lines on it and his eyes follow and travel amongst every single last one. A million lifetimes. A million dreams. He runs his finger along them, just to confirm as he thinks about the roots of your skin, how they run along to the softness and travel over calluses. “That’s your future.” He says softly as he looks at your hand, running his fingers along the lines. He then looks up at you, and his big, beautiful brown eyes meet your orbs. “It’s your past, everything.” You’re not sure what it is that he sees. You’d like to know but you also think you’d be content living without that and just his opinion on everything else in the world. But still, you want to see with his eyes.His fingers stop running over your palm and you feel your cheeks heat up at the intensity of this, his eyes have softened and there’s something else there. Something you don’t quite know. Is it longing? You��re not sure. You feel a deep, soul-aching longing, he does as well and always has. You just haven’t arrived at the stop yet for that to be communicated with words. Now all there is just looks, longing looks from a man with the most beautiful big, brown eyes in the world. You could melt in them, swim in them, drown in them. All of the above and you’d never complain.

You don’t know who makes the first move first, it just feels natural, like gravity. Some kind of natural force that slowly pulls your lips together that you both know is right. His hand gently cups your cheek as you feel his lips. They’re slightly chapped but you don’t mind. The kiss is soft and delicate and you like it. You need it and so does he. Everything feels so natural right now. Perhaps this is something he saw in the palm of your hand. You don’t know what it is yet, but you’re certain that this mask-wearing monkey man is part of that future he just talked about.

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ryuichirou · 2 days

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I’ll start with some news.

I am currently locked out of my twitter account. We did everything we could to try to get it back, but no matter what happens, it will most likely take some time.

I don’t like bringing attention to this kind of stuff because we have tons of other things to talk about which are more important than some toddlers trying to obliterate us for 1000th time (frankly I would rather talk about the colour of Leona’s butthole), but this time it’s kind of serious and important. We don’t know what’s going to happen next, but for now I wanted to say that if we won’t get the account back in time or will lose it indefinitely, we will have to ask for your help. I am sorry for that in advance.

Also, if you were discussing/working on commissions with me via DMs there, please email me or contact me via any other platform as soon as possible. Just in case.

Mass-reporting is wild, eh?

I am rambling a bit, and I didn’t really want to complain, because I know for a fact it would give satisfaction to some people, but you know? I am going to complain: it sucks ass. It happened at the worst time possible and it happened over nothing (literally, the art that got it was a Todd/Wallace non-sexual piece that got too many likes for children’s liking). I don’t care if people don’t like us, I don’t care if they gossip with their girlies about us, all I want is for them to leave us the fuck alone and let us do our thing in peace. Imagine being so unbelievably boring and so incredibly unlikeable and unable to make meaningful connections not only with other people but also with any kind of media that you just have to go out of your way to ruin things for others because this is the only thing that makes your immature brain produce something that even remotely resembles joy. Because your own pathetic self is so deeply insecure and constantly frustrated at yourself that you just have to create an illusion of control over someone else to feel important. I can’t even call it a troll behavior – at least trolls are funny sometimes. This is just someone who hit a midlife crisis at the age of 16 and made it my problem for some reason.

And yet, it’s okay. Even if we end up losing our account, it’ll be a huge disappointment and it will hurt us tremendously, it already did. And it’s scary to think about this scenario, and it’s difficult to talk about how, if it happens, that it’s going to be okay. But eventually we’ll get over it and build ourselves up again, just like we did before several times. And these clowns will still be boring, unlikeable, lonely and very likely shit at drawing.

So yeah. Take care of yourself and block everyone who seems suspicious on sight. It’s not a panacea, but certainly is helpful.

Alright, time to talk about Leona’s butthole (not really, but we will talk about SebeMal, and it’s even better) 💪

Anonymous asked:

Seeing Vanitas made me curious about something: did you ever read Pandora Hearts? I think for a lot of people that series went hand in hand with Black Butler as the main "victorian aesthetic mangas" from the late '00/early '10. Gothic lolitas really had it all back then..

Ohh you’re so right Anon, it was the ultimate late ‘00/early ’10 aesthetic! Boys in vests with bows/ties, crosses and rosaries and traumatic and problematic backstories lol I really miss it sometimes. What an era.

I personally haven’t read/watched Pandora Hearts, but Katsu did! But it was even before we met… So my only association with this title is that Katsu’s old username was “ozbezariusnya” 🥰 Oh, and that Gilbert (?) looks very cute, but let’s be honest, of course I would think he is cute.

nebula-ryuu asked:

Regarding my question, I mean if the Malleus and Sebek ship has a dynamic or a context 😅😅 a background or a story. I have a certain feeling about what it is like but I don't want to affirm anything hehe

I don't know if I made what I said better understood, in any case I can explain it again, no problem 🙏

Oh! Thank you for clarifying!

As for our background for shipping them, we just really really love loyal characters that are a bit unhinged about their loyalty and love/obsession. So we didn’t even have a choice, they stole our hearts… and Malleus is very interesting in his interactions with Sebek too; he is annoyed by him sometimes, but he tolerates a lot and teases him.

As for the ship itself, we tend to think that in addition to Sebek being loyal and obsessive with Malleus, he is also deeply in love with him ever since he was a child. He is conflicted because he really wants to be his lover, but also thinks that he isn’t worthy. Malleus is amused by Sebek and allows him to do much more than he probably should. Actually, I think I talked about their dynamic in this post!

I hope I understood you correctly. Thank you for your question! And if you have any more questions, please let me know.

Anonymous asked:

would Lilia and Azul ever fight over who gets to have Idia?

Replied here! Thank you for your question, Anon.

#replies

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infernalurge · 3 days

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The Astral Prism Isn't Grindr!- Why the Emperor didn't catfish you.🦑

Very long, rambling post I wrote while manic at 4 am. Enjoy!

I feel like the worst thing you can actually say about Emp in regards to his actions towards the player is that he lies by omission. But even then, to consider it lying you basically have to work from the perspective that you as a player, person, character or whatever, are entitled to know everything about someone you just met, who might have some very good reasons for not wanting to reveal certain things

He didn't "catfish" you the prism isn't grindr lmao?! And the game/companions/etc repeat to you over and over that the Dream Visitor is some kind of manufactured vision. You all have one and it's specific to your individual minds. He wasn't exactly doing some deepcover shit with a fake backstory to get your cryptowallet information or whatever real-life equivalence you keep trying to make. As if you run into alien squid monsters every day or something!

It's doubly bizarre because there is an extremely popular companion character whose entire arc is ACTUALLY lying to you about who they are, only admitting it when you catch them attacking you in your sleep, and then goes on to try to ACTUALLY manipulate you with sex and intimacy while at that point, not actually feeling it. This is the most popular character in the fandom btw- Astarion.

Emperor's morality is held up to a ridiculous standard. Not even the companions are held to that level- not even close!

A better equivalence to his situation than "catfishing" (a term completely exclusive to our world) would be if a sentient, alien creature was stranded on our planet and had to use a disguise to y'know....not be shot at and killed by confused humans? Why the heck would your brain first jump to catfishing? Girl if you approached your DG as a tindr date that's on you! Lliterally the only prompt the game gives you before creating them is "you need a guardian" (At least currently that's how it works, after official release.)

if you met a kind of weird guy and fell for him and he then revealed he's actually a sentient squid monster, I don't think your first response would be "OMG YOU CATFISHED ME?" I'm pretty sure it would be "HOLY FUCK A SQUID MONSTER!" because it would be very obvious and apparent (by virtue of them being a squid monster) that the intent was not to "catfish" you, but to survive a world that would be actively hostile towards him, on sight.

We accept this type of "ambiguous morality for the sake of survival" from characters like Astarion who are traditionally attractive, but we don't accept it from a being whose very appearance, forces them into that position of moral ambiguity. Emperor is not afforded the same privilege of even being able to consider full honesty, because just one look at him could make someone hysterical. Hiding himself from you is not an active choice he's able to make, anymore than a turtle can choose to break open it's shell- it will die.

Even if YOU wouldn't kill him, what about companions like Lae'zal, who are already suspicious of him and will definitely cut him down at that point? Even if you think that would be a good thing, you would then lose your protection from the tadpole/the Absolute. The game basically wouldn't exist without the Prism.

Let's also not use "well Astarion is traumatized" as an excuse here. Emperor is pretty obviously traumatized as well, in addition to being a brain-eating squid monster and having to manage that part of his nature, the way Astarion has to handle his. Yet he's still more up front than Astarion was. Astarion can accidentally kill you while drinking from you and he still doesn't reveal who he is to the others, AND pretends he doesn't know what happened to you lol.

Note my point here isn't "Astarion bad" but simply that if you have room in your heart to sympathize with characters like Astarion, then there's no reason you can't squeeze my man Emp in there too. He doesn't do anything significantly worse than any of the other main characters but is the most hated, and it's literally because of this ridiculous perception of him "catifshing" the player. The most media illiterate take I have ever seen in my life, honestly

Like first off, he's a squid, and secondly! ☝️ Read all that again.

tl;dr if you feel "cafished" by the Emperor you simply weren't paying attention for more than half the game. Fantasy might not be for you if you can't remove the plot from real life circumstances and turn complex fantasy monsters into human romance scammers, as if they're actually alike in any meaningful way.

Read more books maybe. That might help.

#the emperor #bg3 the emperor #emperor #bg3 emperor #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #THIRD WAY I'M SAYING THIS:#this is an emp-positive post #stop going onto positive posts to whine at fans that you still hate the character #we don't do that shit to you with gor/tash or rap/hael or anyone else

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thermodynamic-comedian · 3 hours

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not judging anybody, but i find it genuinely interesting that so many fans categorize the fear avatars as either "good" or "bad" based on wether they feel bad about what they do or not, or if they've deemed their backstory tragic enough. because that's literally something talked about in the show explicitly; wether jon is a better person than other avatars because he beats himself up about what he does. he still hurts people. he still feeds on fear. but he feels bad about it, so is he a more morally correct person than someone like helen, who shamelessly enjoys the fear she eats? is suffering righteous if it doesn't help anyone?

there's also the topic of daisy, melanie, and decisions. daisy chose not to feed, but eventually the hunt still claimed her. melanie chose to quit, but that didn't stop or even interfere with jonah's plan. they made the morally correct decisions, but in the end, it didn't matter. but it mattered to them that they did what they could. i don't think either of them thought they could affect the outcome; they made the decisions they made out of nothing except their own moral integrity.

none of this is a criticism or an opinion, just me rambling on about the magnus archives and how it handles the topic of morality and nature and people making morally correct decisions that don't affect the world at all.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma analysis #tma meta #tma spoilers #jonathan sims #helen distortion #melanie king #daisy tonner

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kerra-and-company · 1 year

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⏳⏳⏳ for kerra!

Backstory asks, coming right up! :D (Continuing the trend of starting 2023 by Getting These Answered, please and thank you brain xD)

"I think about titles a lot, probably because I've had a lot of them--Valiant, Herald, Initiate, Lightbringer, Knight, Champion. I suppose I have the benefit of never needing a resume to apply for a new job, so there's that. 'Commander' is as much a part of my name these days as anything, whether I'm officially attached to the Pact or not. Even my full name feels like a title. No one calls me Kerralind, and, honestly, I don't want them to. I like 'Kerra', and 'Lin', and I can save the full thing for whatever unexpected Ministry of Transit paperwork I may have to file in the future.

"If I had to pick the most uncomfortable title I've had, it would be 'Herald'. I did not then, nor do I now, have any desire to be my Mother's voice. The work I did in that role was important, and I'm not discounting it--but I am not her spokesperson. On the other hand, I miss hearing 'Lightbringer'. Only Riel and the Preceptors use it, nowadays, but Demmi used to." (There's a flash of grief in her eyes.) "I think she would have earned that title, too, eventually. She was--Demmi was a good friend." (She blinks, and readjusts her seat, taking a breath.)

"Anyway." (She smiles ruefully.) "I think if there's anything my life should teach future Tyrians, it's to hold off on the titles until they're ready to choose the ones they want. To use a phrase I heard recently, I'm the exception that proves the rule. My life has been a very bumpy airship ride, and there are so many things I'm grateful for--but there also are so many things I wish I could change. I wasn't ready to have so much on my shoulders. Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of who I am now, just like I'm proud of who Aurene is--I am so, so proud of my daughter, and of all my children." (Her gaze is intent, now.) "But the world I want to leave behind cannot rely on saplings and children to carry all its weight. It can't. I won't stand for that."

#gw2 #kerralind #this is like...backstory and personal ramblings?#so sorry if it's not quite what you expected as;ldjfsadf but hope it's okay!!#thanks a bunch for the ask! :D #fregion-bond-breaker

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crystallizsch · 3 days

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GOOD MORNING HELP ME

I AM STILL NOT OVER IDIA’S CHIBI JAMIL

HE LOOKS SO HAPPY I WANT TO SHAKE HIM

#AAAGHHH #NEXT UPDATE SCARABIAAA #I’M GONNA FUCKING LOSE ITTTTT #[—#twst jp spoilers #twst jp #★ twst rambles #—]#since scarabia is an anomaly #i wonder if the card is going to be kalim instead???#bc it seems like the card privileges are going to the non-overblotters #but theyre the person who is the most important to the overblotter #like the one who can snap them out of their dream???#and in this case literally kalim is the only other person so #;;;;#gahhhh now i’m just thinking about what sort of dreams jamil and kalim will have 😭😭😭#I NEED THEIR LORE I NEED THEIR BACKSTORIES #I NEED THEIR RELATIONSHIP DEVELOPMENT #RAAHHHH PART NINE GIVE ME THE SCARABIA ANGST THAT I CRAVE

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graham--folger · 13 days

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alright yall i have a question

please rb!

jesus christ i literally just noticed that fucking typo. goddammit. i’m so sorry apparently “i want her tristamp” is here to stay 🫠

#i personally really like him as a character and what he adds to tristamp and meryl’s backstory #but i see a fair amount of hate so now im curious #roberto de niro #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun 98 #trigun maximum #trimax #alex’s inane ramblings

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sorrelpaws · 1 year

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proper refs for my new r&m ocs :-) more info BELOW

morty v-37 - basically gets used as a human shield and then promptly left for dead by his previous rick(which is why hes got the scar and prosthetics), y-4441 finds him and fixes him up + erases his memories of the whole nearly dying thing. he’s pretty chillaxed and a bit more cynical than an average morty, more “rickish” i guess idk. tends to be skeptical, likes poking holes in rick’s arguments/inventions etc etc but like in a teasing way

rick y-4441 - very peppy, upbeat and emotional. he kind of reeaalllyyy dislikes the cfc and stays away from it as much as possible, especially after finding and unofficially adopting v-37. he’s not as tech savvy as most rick’s, his abilities are more akin to s1 rick’s skill level? as in, he lives off of scraps of materials and creative solutions, less god-like and more “old man in garage who happens to know physics and chemistry”. loves to ramble about basically anything and happily indulges in morty’s hypotheticals/questions whatever. EXCEPT! for why morty doesnt have his fingers he shuts that topic down immediately just does not want to deal with that can of worms at allll

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #ocs #idk #theres no name or real story for this au #except for like their backstories i mea #like they have no direction they're just chilling #but i like drawing them #theyre kind of? role swapped versions? buuutt like okay.#i usually hate roleswap aus bcs the way most ppl do them is by just tweaking designs AND ALSO switching the personalities #like ok this is just me rambling abt a pet peeve now but listen to me #it is much more interesting to take the characters and Keep Them The Same while putting them in a different position #that is a neat au in my opinion #but just ugh.#like ok if u just wanna draw alternative versions of the charas thats fine OBVIOUSLY #but i wish there was a biiittt more thought in there. like just a shred of idea #'scientist morty but he's still empathetic and loves his family' + 'regular grandpa rick who is just such an ass for no reason at all'#ok im over it. tell me my ocs r cool

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minticecodes · 5 months

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I'm slowly getting through devil may cry v and got inspired enough to doodle again. Sure they aren't polished but I love looking at others' sketch dumps, it's like looking at a smorgasbord of ideas. So here you go. Read more for close ups of the other doodles. The ID in alt are the same as written in the text.

[I.D. Digital art. A boy in a shirt hoodie, Nero, sits cross legged as he leans backwards to smile up at his companion. Said companion is a tall horned knight, Nelo Angelo, kneeling behind Nero. Nelo gazes to the side, but braces his broadsword by Nero, and his cape drapes around where Nero's sitting. Nero is rendered in light blue and red, Nelo is rendered in light blue, and they're brightly illuminated. End I.D.]

(Was thinking of 'Love Seeketh Not Itself to Please' by Indigomoods on ao3 while doing this one).

[I.D. A number of digital art sketches, most prominently featuring Dante and Vergil from the Devil May Cry series. From top to bottom, right to left:

Headshots of two boys, Dante and Vergil. Short comic of a man (Dante) ruffling a boy's (Vergil's) hair. Sketch of two boys on a couch, one (Dante) looking concerned at the other (Vergil) in foetal position. Branches curl under the couch. Sketch of child Dante and Vergil in red and blue, running hand in hand. Thumbprint sized chibi child Dante and Vergil. Nero and Nelo sitting together.

Semirealistic headshot (DMCV Vergil) in blue. Boy (Dante) curled in a fire, and fire demon (SDT Dante) gazing at his palm against a black background. Loose sketches of a man's head, roughly scribbled out except one, and an angry cat with a sword. They're labelled in blue and red writing. Side profile of a young man in blues (DMC3 Vergil), face shadowed, a yellow ribbon curled in the background. Side profile of DMC3 Vergil. End I.D.]

[I.D. 4 black and white digital pen cartoony sketches of child Dante and Vergil. Head and bust shot of a boy with slicked back hair and black turtleneck (Vergil) looking right. His brows are furrowed, eyes narrowed; he looks unimpressed. Below is a head and bust shot of a boy with shoulder length hair and white shirt (Dante) looking left with wide eyes and a fang toothed, wide grin. Centre close up of a cloaked boy (Vergil) glaring up, brow furrowed. His hair hangs over a shadowed face. One narrowed eye is visible. Right sketch is of a cloaked boy (Vergil) hugging a book to his chest, referencing a Visions of V panel. His one visible eye is wide as he gazes down with a small expression. End I.D.]

[I.D. Coloured digital art over a black background. Two panels. Panel one is child Dante, arms hugging his legs as he sits within a fire raging around him. He's buried his face in his arms. Panel two is an adult Dante in his demonic SDT form. He gazes down at his clawed hand while the fiery core in his chest glows as the main source of light, casting shadows and red light against his armoured form. The tips of his claws seem to glow in the reflected light. End I.D.]

[I.D. Messy sketch of child Vergil and Dante, running hand in hand. The two look at each other with smiles, Dante with a wide grin and Vergil with closed lips and determined brows. Their full expressions aside from the smile cannot be seen; Dante's hair whips back and covers his face while Vergil's face is eyeless. They're softly rendered in light blue and red, and bright lighting. End I.D.]

[I.D. Messy sketch of child Vergil and Dante sitting on a couch, shot from behind the couch. Dante directs a concerned gaze to Vergil, his hand braced on the couch back as he leans closer. Vergil only looks down. His arms are curled around his knees. From the angle, his expression cannot be seen aside from a small frown. Under the couch slithers Qliphoth tree roots. End I.D.]

[I.D. Chibi doodle of child Vergil and Dante, holding hands. Light blue and red ovals were airbrushed on the page, and a pen lined out their features. They have round cheek patches, like budgies. Vergil has a cartoony pout and a book tucked under an arm, labelled with a V; Dante has a toothy grin and is making a bunny ears hand sign. End I.D.]

[I.D. 'DANTE' is evenly block printed in blue pen. Underneath are what looks to be the start of three portraits of Dante in black pen, but they're roughly scribbled out. The most detailed of the three scribbled out portraits is Dante's grinning side profile. He had sunglasses on. The only intact portrait is a shot of Dante from behind, from the chest up and face not visible aside from a grin. Carried on his back is the Devil Sword Dante, rendered in more detail than Dante.

Meanwhile 'VERGIL' is written in orange/red pen, but strikethroughed. Written above instead is 'PURR-GIL!!', an arrow pointing at a doodle of a cat holding a roughly drawn katana(Yamato). The cat is grimacing with furrowed brows. It has spiky fur on its head, a spiky curled tail, a thorn pattern on its arms resembling Vergil's coat sleeves, and fat round blushy cheeks. End I.D.]

[I.D. Semirealistic rendering of DMCV Vergil from the neck up in three quarter view. He's painted in blues, with soft red shadows. He glares at the viewer, brows furrowed. His irises are a soft red, and he has eye bags. His lips are somewhat glossy. To the side is the blue color palette. End I.D.]

[I.D. Stylised depiction of DMC3 Vergil glaring downwards in profile, from the chest up. He's rendered in blues, his face shadowed from the light against his back. Running over his skin are cracked gold lines, reminiscent of kintsugi. In the background curls a yellow ribbon in the same gold. He's wearing a sleeveless turtleneck and cravat. End I.D.]

[I.D. Stylised black and white lineart of DMC3 Vergil glaring in profile, lips sneering, from the neck up. He's in a coat and cravat. End I.D.]

[I.D. Messy comic.

Panel 1: DMCV Dante ruffling child Vergil's hair. Dante's face is out of the panel

Vergil (grimacing): "Dante!"

Panel 2: Vergil's staved off the hair ruffling, lifting up Dante's hand with both his hands. His brows are furrowed as he looks up at Dante. In the background is a laughing sound effect, that tapers off. 'HA HA ha...'

Panel 3: Adult Dante gazing down at child Vergil, arm hovering over him. His expression seems sad, despite the small smile.

Dante: ... I missed ya, Verge.

Vergil gazes up at Dante, a small question mark by his head. End I.D.]