#praying this doesn’t flop

[insert-something-funy-here]

PHIGHT OR PHLIGHT

CHAT, IT'S DONE!!! CHAPTER 3 IS HERE!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIO!!! YOUR PRESENT??? THE BIG SAD!!!! YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA!!!!!!

ANYWAY, chat I think this chapter genuinely has some of my best writing so uh, praying this gets popular lol- CLICK ON THE IMAGES FOR BETTER QUALITY 🙏

AND WITH THAT, ENJOY!!! >:D!!!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 4

"I did what was right."

"You did what benefited you and only you."

Could the warden have been right?

Medkit sits there, staring at Biograft as he recovers from overheating and attempts at saving battery for the rest of the trip. The two are on their way to the Church of the True Eye, Medkit has to report back about what happened no matter what. However, the pair are currently resting at Sword's. Biograft lays in Sword's hammock, "sleeping," though he can't actually recharge without Subspace’s crystal.

I can't do anything.

I can't do anything but watch as his newly grooved existence runs along the iron rails laid before him by my own. There’s no lever, no other track, and I could close my eyes, but watching is the least I owe him. From the rifled frozen heart of the mountains to the ineludible sand of the desert he now erringly rushes forward. He’s smart; but there’s intelligence which lies with woe or that which lies with insanity. In some souls are the wings of the swords who hegemonize this world which allows them to dive into the darkest gorges, soar out of them again and again, and become impervious to the wills of many. Such that even if they were to fly forever in those georges, they’re in the mountains, making even their lowest swoop higher than that of any plain bird’s soar. He’s just now growing, with so much potential and light. Do I have it in me to watch if he falls the same as I?

Biograft’s awakening quickly stole Medkit’s attention from his thoughts. “I am no longer overheating and believe I have deleted a sufficient amount of data, my remaining battery should now last a week."

“The church isn’t that far, which should leave us most of that time to figure out a battery for you,” he’s cut off by Sword entering the room.

“Hey Med, how’s Bio- Oh, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” He stepped forward and rested his arm on Medkit’s shoulder. He wasn’t all that sure about hosting a murderous robot, but Medkit’s adamance, and offering to charge him less from then on, ment this was important. Medkit didn’t give many details of what happened, but he did mention this Biograft being sentient and that the two just escaped from Subspace.

He met Sword with silence. He’s never felt before, how would he even be able to describe it? He has the vocabulary, but words are too subjective and feelings don’t always follow their denotation. It’s too complex. That’s without the added burden of asking if it’s even real. All experiences of life are different, but is his even valid? He can’t even articulate how he’s doing in this present moment. This is a train of thought best saved for later. He won’t lie, but he doesn’t know the truth. He simply says, “That is an overwhelming question,” and leaves it there.

“I should’ve thought about that, hah! Sorry, let me ask something different then, hmm,” Biograft wanted to interrupt and say the apology was unnecessary, but Sword spoke before he got the chance. “Still think my techniques are outdated?”

Biograft stares at him for a moment before speaking, “Incredibly so.” He pauses, “However, there is merit to it, age often brings either value or irrelevance. I believe you’re making a good attempt at having it be the first option of the two.” His words surprise Sword, but it seems to convince him that this Biograft is different from the ones he’s fought before.

Sword smiles at Biograft, it confuses him, but at least Sword seems pleased with his response. Medkit speaks up, “We should get going.”

“Leaving already? Dang! You sure you two are good to leave?” He knows they have to leave for the cult eventually, but he wouldn’t mind their company for a bit longer.

“As ready as we can be.”

“So not at all?”

“Correct.”

As Medkit had predicted, it did not take them long to arrive at the church. The two are greeted by Scythe, “Aw there ya are ‘Kit! Why if I didn't know any better I woulda thought you were tryna run,” she steps forward, looking Biograft up and down, “I see you brought a new toy with ya.”

“I can explain.” Biograft notices a new hesitancy in Medkit’s voice.

“Well of course ya are! Let’s go find some place else to talk.” There’s been some sort of underlying threat lacing itself in her words, but Biograft can’t grasp what. Medkit, however, knows it all too well. Scythe begins to walk and motions for the pair to follow behind. Medkit’s hands tense, something makes Biografts shake.

The two stick close as they follow Scythe, eventually making it to an office like room with a large round table. She motions for them to sit at one end while she walks to the other. “Now then! Explain before I disassemble yer lil friend here.” The way her tone didn’t match her words reminded Biograft of Subspace, but this felt different. This felt different. He should be used to violence aimed his way, being in phights, having been part of Blackrock’s security force, being close to his creator, but this wasn’t the same. There are stakes, this existence is now the only one he has, there’s no coming back now if he’s killed. He won’t claim to be alive, but he will fight for this life with every part of himself.

Medkit knew she would probably rip Biograft apart regardless, “This Biograft, he’s sentient, we got away from Subspace-”

“Hold your horses there Doc, ain’t we supposed to be keepin’ ya safe from that scientist?”

“That is the deal we have but-”

“Now how exactly are we gonna keep ya safe from him if yer actively bringin’ his lil experiments ‘round the place, mm?

“He’s different!”

“Ya say that but all I see here is a security risk.”

Biograft stood up, “I can prove it.” he pauses for a moment to rephrase his words, “let me prove myself.” Medkit looks at him, clearly shocked, wanting to stop him.

Surprise managed to slip through Scythe’s expression. Oh, this was gonna be fun, “Well, well, well~ it can speak fer itself. Hmmm, you know what, yeah, I’ll give ya one shot,” she walks to the door and holds it open, “Come along now~” Medkit goes to follow behind Biograft, but Scythe raises her hand and shoots him a look, “You’re stayin’ here, Broker will be here to talk to ya in a bit. You can give him yer full report.” Medkit goes to say something, but flinches back, a pain shooting through his eye as Scythe’s glass one temporarily gains a teal tint. He sits back down and crosses his arms, refusing to look at her.

Her smirk grows as she turns to Biograft, “Now then, shall we?

Scythe led him to one one of the canyons near the church, as the two walked she asked, “I assume yer lookin to stay here? With him?”

“Yes.” For the first time since all of this had started, he could answer without hesitation. Staying by Medkit’s side, he wasn’t sure what made him seek such a thing so desperately, but he knew he had to do whatever it took.

“And how exactly ya think this’ll work hm?” Scythe stopped and turned to look at him.

Confused, he asked, “In what regard?”

“Well I need some,” She paused, “Reassurance. I could put in a good word for you to the Father, but how do we know this ain’t a long con for you and yer creator?” She began to step closer, “Or that yer any different from the tons of you I’ve dismantled before?” Standing face to face, inches apart, “How do we know yer a good fit for the family?”

“I’ve abandoned all of my connection to Blackrock-”

She puts her hand up to cut him off, “I don’t mean for you to tell me," She yanks him forward, "I want you to show me.”

The two exchange blows for a while. After, Scythe takes a seat on a nearby cliff edge and motions for him to sit next to her, “A’ight, that’s good enough, I get the point yer different, but I still got some things I wanna ask.” He sits next to her, “Why did you leave?”

He immediately goes to excuse his actions, “I had to-”

“No. Listen kid, I’ve fought…” she vaguely gestures at him, “you, before. I know you do insane amounts of calculatin’ and figurin’ out the ‘most optimal actions’ to take for yer directives n all that. So out of every choice you coulda made in that moment, what made leavin’ the best?” She observed him, even if he wasn’t a demon, there’s something in him. Something that can be used.

He froze. He didn’t know? No, he did know, he just didn’t want to admit it. He could’ve just gotten Medkit out of there and returned to Blackrock. He could have returned to Subspace’s side and just held him back until Medkit got away. He didn’t have to be here. He didn’t have to be here, but something inside him needed him to. Needed Medkit. Medkit’s absence hurt him, and now he had a chance to be by his side again. This is one shot at it. Biograft gave up every part of his previous identity for this. It won’t be like what it was before Medkit left, far from it, but that didn’t matter. Whether he was sentient, or not, didn’t matter. Medkit would be here, and that’s all he needed. “He did.”

Scythe smiles, seeming more than pleased with his answer. “Say, you need a battery right? Er, well, some way of chagrin? I hear ‘Kits crystal aint work for you, I might have somethin’ that will.”

He looks at her surprised, “Really?”

She nods, “It comes with conditions of course, but you’ll join the family, I’ll vouch for ya, and you’ll get to work alongside our dear medic. You gotta … earn the power you’ll be using from the father, but I think you’ll make a fine vessel for it.” She reaches into a pocket and pulls out a glass eye, “Here, it’s even the one ‘Kit was s’ppossed to have! His eye was sewn shut before he joined, which is why he’s allowed to have an eyepatch.”

He takes the glass eye, “I assume you’ll want me to change my display?”

She nods, “You’ll be required to yeah, I know you don’t have proper eyes, so something to show only one ‘ll work fine,” she thinks for a moment, “Maybe you change one to a flower!”

The three meet again in the workshop. It was nowhere near what he used to have in Blackrock, but it was functional, and Subspace was nowhere to be seen. Medkit steps up to Biograft, putting his hands on his shoulders, before giving him a tight embrace. Biograft was quick to reciprocate. Medkit whispered to him, “You’re still a weapon in everyone else's eyes, just in someone else's hands now, and it’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

The two pull apart and Biograft lays on the rooms center workbench, "I didn't leave for freedom, I left for you."

[jun1ebu6]

THE CAGE

[glossytoothpick]

Behold, the most gigantic art project I’ve taken in about three years. I have no clue what compelled me to do a drawing like this but I’m glad I did! This was a fun challenge and helped me draw some characters I had never drawn before. Hope you all enjoy!

[wh0reeee]

created this while having some short of weird david lynch daydream moment where i felt like i was stuck in inland empire for a good 45 minutes

[cattstep]

SHATTERED doodle page (1/?)

[achildsfirstsorrow]

Erik with a skull, because why not? (Someone take it before he starts to recite Hamlet.)

Oddly enough this is probably my favourite POTO art I’ve done, but I’ll be back to drawing more book things soon.

[lollipopsnowy]

“so get out here and see the sun” man ur already doing that…why should I /silly

[mywons]

00 SJY. LOVERBOY smau ⤾

taglist profiles ⁰¹ ⁰² talk to me

𖠵 syn | after you win tickets to your very first enhypen concert and it ends up being canceled for rescheduling, you try to remain positive despite your obvious disappointment. social media is your escape anyways, but you aren’t expecting your bias wrecker to see your posts about how upset you are (and do something about it).

𖠵 tags | idol au, sim jake x fem!reader, fluff

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𖠵 authors note: this is coming very very soon! probably sometime later today. it’s a work in progress tho, so updates may be slow.. i’m not sure. really excited to start this tho 🫶

𖠵 taglist: @wonfied @sngvhs @misokei

𖠵 mywons © 2023 ## please do not plagiarize my works.

[sombrathedragon]

Riddle me this Tumblr, if I say can’t draw, then how did I make this? 🧐

(I was gonna save this until I posted it with the full project it’s for, but I’m actually really proud of it. Also don’t mind how the blood on Icicles teeth is blue and not red, maybe she just bit her tongue a little too much)

Reblogs are appreciated!

[quietbrushstrokes]

I present to you: My babies! This is an alternate universe in which instead of narinder being the one who waits, It’s leshy !

Leshy is the bishop of chaos. With a name like The Bishop of Chaos you’d think he’d cause some, no? Well, In this universe, he does.

He causes so much, in fact, that his siblings chain him up in purgatory. Narinder had proposed death as a solution, but Shamura shut his idea down fast.

‘How could we kill our own brother?’

Wrong choice, Shamura.

Or maybe, right choice?

Now, employing the help of the last llama, he intends to regain control of not only dark wood, but every other realm. While causing a little chaos, ofcource.

(Yes I know the llama has the crown and weapon out, it was for aesthetic reasons dammit)

More beyond the break If you want more details on the au ��️

Our llama, now tasked with assassinating all of the bishops, decides this path is not for her. She doesn’t want to kill them. But She doesn’t want to be killed either. She starts her cult. Through old tombs etched into stone in each bishop’s domain, She learns the past of the bishops. Each bishop was born for good, Narinder the bishop of life, Heket the bishop of harvest, Kalamar the bishop of health, Shamura the bishop of peace. Each one turning to evil. Narinder the bishop of death, Heket the bishop of famine, Kalamar the bishop of Pestulance, Shamura the bishop of war.

Leshy’s tomb is etched out, and unreadable, but there are fragments of words. Chaos and order being the only readable words.

She knew what she had to do.

She meets with ???, the mystic seller, who informs her that to reform a bishop, you need god tears, but they must be defeated first. And be willing.

One by one, she takes down the bishops, and invites them to stay at her cult. Each one declines, so she locks them in a small area of their domain. She visits daily, bringing food, water, and kind words. The bishops slowly warm up to her, and each one begins to slowly feel indifference to their old ways. She soon gets her hand on god tears, and begins reforming the bishops. One by one, she restores peace. Until Leshy. As the bishop of chaos, he has no want for order, for kindness. He was also betrayed by the llama, who used their own crown against him.

Durning this time, She finds out what’s truly up with leshy from the other bishops. He was never born for order, never born for good. He was born as a normal Darkwood worm, and found the crown. It gave him power like nothing else, and he loved it. He fought with the crown for more of its power, corrupting it with his greed, making himself the bishop of chaos.

This all culminates in a final Battle. All of the reformed bishops fight with the llama against Leshy, weakening him until they can get him to stop fighting. Once he is weakened, they show him how life could be. He submits, and is turned into the bishop of order, and his crown returned.

The llama, now without a crown, and no longer a bishop, has completed her journey. She knows she did the world a justice, and rejoices in the fact she reformed a world so set in its ways when they couldn’t see the wrong they had done.

….and that’s all I’ve got so far- I’m not sure if she dies, lives on as a normal mortal running her cult, maybe the bishops grant her immortality? I was also tossing around the idea that the bishops donate a bit of their power to create a crown for her, making her the bishop of something? Maybe the bishop of wisdom or perseverance or something? I never got that far.

I don’t know if I’ll continue this au, but I had this cooking in my brain soup, and figured I could pour out a bowl to sample. I might draw the reformed bishops later on if I get bored. This was fun to brainstorm though!

[mothergold]

Who can join: Anyone 18+ with an age indicator in their bio is allowed to join.

How to join: Send me an ask with your character and fandom of choice.

Fandoms: Any and all fandoms welcome

About this collab: This collab is all about writing something for your favs where the center of the fic is hurt/comfort. It can be heavy on the hurt, heavy on the comfort, whatever you want. As long as the main theme of the fic is hurt/comfort anything goes. Just let your wildest fantasies go wild and have fun with it!

Due Date: There is no deadline

Rules:

• Doubles are allowed

• Selfship centered fics are allowed (encouraged even).

• Please do not join if you’re not 18+ or don’t have an age indicator of some sort on your blog. If you send in an ask and you have no age indicator or are a minor you will be hard blocked.

• Dark content is allowed, but please make sure hurt/comfort is the main theme as well.

• Once you’ve joined please make sure to reblog the collab post.

• Aging up characters is allowed.

• There is no maximum word limit, but please make sure you’re writing at least 500 words minimum.

• When you finish your collab piece make sure to tag me in the post and use the hashtag #helpmeholdme

• Oc x Character is allowed

• The relationship can be romantic, platonic, queer platonic, etc.

• And most importantly have fun!!

• If there’s anything you’re unsure about just send an ask and I’ll answer to the best of my abilities <3

Masterlist

• Sampo �� @rubysm

• Kaeya — @rubysm

• Dottore — @screamingcrows

• Shigaraki — @/tomuras

• Kim Dokja — @glassrowboat

[archivingbarca]

how do you think xabi alonso will do as RMA coach?

what alonso has done with his managerial career is crazy (promoted to segunda with sociedad B, unbeaten league with leverkusen) so i can see him being successful with madrid for sure. i think it will all come down to madrid’s transfer business for their defence (which looks pretty good for them so far) and the relationship between jude/vini/mbappe. but barring extenuating cirmumstances, i think he needs to win either laliga or ucl in his first season. there’s no way perez is going to wait around for him to get his shit together

[autumnsartblog]

Well. This took me an eternity! It’ll probably change over time too! — would appreciate reblogs 💥

P.S. This is essentially a bunch of headcanons with what disorders and flags I think they’d have (even if they are unaware of the existence of it)

— 1/3

MINA : Bisexual and Poly, and has a feminine-aligned gender . From Turkmenistan and Egypt (possibly..) and has autism and ptsd

JONATHAN : Biromantic, greysexual and poly, is bigender . From Scotland and Britain and has autism, generalised anxiety disorder and ptsd

DRACULA : Bisexual and homoromantic, is genderqueer and hypersexual . From Romania and Hungary, has borderline personality disorder ( fp : Jonathan ? ), autism and ptsd

— 2/3

QUINCEY : Aromantic and pansexual, demiboy . From America 🦅🦅🦅 and has ADHD (combo) and dyscalculia (I hope I spelt that right)

ARTHUR : Bisexual and a surboy . From France and Britain, has sensory processing disorder and is selectively mute at times

LUCY : Omni with a preference for women, poly and a demigirl . From Britain and has maladaptive daydreaming disorder and ADHD (inattentive)

— 3/3

VAN HELSING : Unlabelled and cisgender (he just wouldn’t care for labels) . From the Netherlands and possibly Scotland, has autism

DR . STEWARD : Gay and aroace, helian . From Britain and somewhere in East Asia, has insomnia, autism and obsessive compulsive disorder

RENFIELD : Androsexual and achellian (I may have spelt that wrong), pistolian and hypersexual . Possibly from Switzerland and England, at least somewhere from East and West europe, has biopolar 2, dysgraphia, borderline personality disorder ( fp : Dracula ) and hyperlexia (I couldn’t find a symbol for that 💔) — he has a bandage on his ear because he tried to rip it to look more pointy

[jjsstars]

t4t steddie throwing a halloween party in july is canon to me

Robs, what do you mean it’s too early for a Halloween party? Nancy’s already here getting ready with us

[pinterest ref pic below]

[enanansbbg]

oc art dumb (the blonde girl is Aiko and the black haired boy is Aoto)

[sugarcherris]

Headcanon: Captain Price’s Pathetic Pillow

Captain price x fem! reader, suggestive theme, 18+, mentions of uterus and cum, and the whole team clowning price.

Everyone thinks Captain John Price is a hardened man of taste—cigars, whiskey, and tactical brilliance.

Cigars? Expensive.

Whiskey? Aged and neat.

Tactics? Lethal.

Beard? National treasure.

And yet… behind closed doors… lies a secret so devastating, so shameful, so soul-flattening…the single most disturbing artifact known to Task Force 141.

His pillow is the saddest object in the entire United Kingdom. Possible Europe. Maybe the entire NATO alliance.

And not just any pillow.

No.

It’s not just flat. It’s deflated. Like it gave up sometime in 80s and never recovered.

This pillow has seen wars, sweat, spit, cigar crumbs, cum, and the weight of an emotionally repressed British forehead night after night. It’s yellowed. It crunches a bit when you press it. There’s one suspicious bullet hole no one asks about.

The first sighting

Gaz stumbled on it once and physically recoiled like it bit him.

“Cap— what the hell is that?”

“My pillow.”

“…Is it… alive?”

“It’s broken in.”

“IT’S BROKEN DOWN.”

Soap tried to surprise him with a brand-new orthopedic memory foam one. Price took one look at it, gave it one half hearted squeeze it, and muttered

“Too soft. Doesn’t smell like mine.”

Then flopped face-first back onto his tattered parchment of despair.. the war-torn crêpe he calls a pillow with the weight of a thousand suppressed emotions and let out a groan so guttural it summoned ghosts from WWI.

Laswell once compared it to a flattened Yorkshire pudding left out in the rain.

Ghost swears it whispered something to him once. He won’t say what.

That pillow has no bounce. It’s a sock filled with despair.

But he won’t replace it.

Because in his heart, Price believes if his pillow can survive everything it’s been through…

So can he.

You

You tried.

God knows you tried.

But after three nights of waking up with your spine curved like a question mark and your neck sounding like a glow stick every time you turned your head, you snapped. (Somehow all his pillows were deflated flat and soggy. His remarkable pillow is the worse one, the founder, the disease spreader)

Price, meanwhile, is sleeping like some half-naked forest bear—shirtless, sprawled on his war relic of a pillow, beard glinting like wet oak in the moonlight.

“John,” you hiss. “I swear on your beard—if I have to sleep on any more of this limp, moist rectangle one more night, I will summon God Himself to smite this pillow.”

Price rolls over, glowing in the moonlight like a Michelangelo statue who drinks whiskey and shaves with a knife, He shifts lazily, one thick arm draping over your waist, eyes half-lidded with that glint as he murmurs, voice deep and rough like thunder rolling through and just goes.

“Careful, love. That attitude’ll have you face-down ‘n beggin’ before you even touch the sheets.”

Sir. No.

Your uterus shrieked.

Your spine whimpered.

And the pillow—the goddamn pillow grinned.

The Battle Begins

You steal the pillow.

You tossed the pillow in the bin.

It crunched on the way down

You pray over its resting place like a sacrificial offering.

He came home. Sniffed the air once like a bloodhound.

He finds it. In the goddamn trash.

Washes it. Rescues it.

Holds it like a cradled child. Looks you dead in the eye and says,

“This pillow’s older than half the squad. Show some bloody respect.”

He sleeps like a WWII veteran with his hands gently gripping the corners like a parachute cord.

You’re convinced it’s not a pillow.

It’s a coping mechanism.

Eventually everyone started taking action

Soap starts a betting pool. He names it Operation Flat Bastard.

Gaz calls it Flatline. He salutes it sarcastically every time he passes the room.

Ghost adds it to a list of “Top 5 Unholy Objects I’ve Seen.” (It ranks above a haunted mask from Karachi.)

Laswell mails you a care package with six memory foam pillows. No note.

Price tries one of them once—after you begged. The next morning, he stares into space, grumbling:

“Had a vivid dream about paying council taxes. Didn’t like it.”

New plan

You surrender to fate.

But you plan.

One day, when he’s gone again, you’ll hold a funeral.

Full military honors.

You’ll bury Flatline under a crooked rock in the backyard. Light a cigar. Tap the gravestone twice. Whisper, “Rest now, soldier.”

And when he comes home?

He’ll lie down on a new pillow—one you’ve secretly been punching nightly, stomping with boots, smearing it with your cum, and ironing flat to simulate three decades of war.

He’ll grunt once.

Press his face into it. Inhales it.

And murmur:

“…Finally. Feels just right.”