#Anyway edited version 👍

[stick-by-me]

Just the two of us!

New follower sticker for: @nodrey!

[cottontail-killer-au]

I don’t think this counts as AU spoilers so I’m gonna post it but glamrock bonnie redesign/AU glamrock Bonnie design !! (Original for comparison on the right) he was very fun to edit! ^^ (Also as you can see we based him off David Bowie!):

[karizipan]

orv dump 5(?)

[gab1te]

you want to cover up your eyes

but they’re already shut so tight

[happyk44]

what if Percy had a Roman Older sister stormy seas kid who, after learning/realizing that Percy was crushing his nature, decided that it was her holy sisterly duty — make him blossom, to surrender to his stormy sea.

she uses various tactics of mental manipulation, presses with all her might, awakens triggers, adjusts stressful situations.

And in the end, in tartarus, Percy [whose consciousness is pretty exhausted by her] still can't stand it and takes Achlys under control.

only unlike the canon, Annabeth fails to appeal to his humanity and Percy is happy to torture Goddess....

When they return through the gates of death and Percy has recovered at least a little physically, his sister comes to him.

She smiles, her smile is almost natural, almost soft and sincere, as if she really loves Percy as her little brother.

And She hugs him.

perhaps her hugs from the outside seem tender and loving, but Percy feels that he is drowning, he feels that he is lost in the sea, he is completely helpless like then in Alaska and he is terribly cold, her body seems colder to him than Alaska.

he feels that he is completely at her mercy.

She briefly presses her lips to his forehead, her bitter salt burns his wounds.

— my younger brother, — she says in a lively, warm voice, — congratulations, you have finally blossomed.

Percy snuggles up to her and cries.

She got her way.

he broke down.

[my God, I got carried away too much..]

Ohhh that's great and painful 🙌

It would be difficult for her to achieve in canon since Percy was only in Camp Jupiter for like. A day 😂 But 🤔🤔 maybe as a travel buddy out of the Wolf House to California? Works better, I think, since Neptune's stormy children would struggle with teamwork due to the social aspect. Cohort members are reluctant to team up with them as well, because they'll often leave teammates behind or be unbothered by capture. So I imagine they're often kept out of Camp Jupiter/New Rome, or, back in the day anyway, regulated to reconnaissance due to its solitary nature.

Amnesiac Percy stumbling across a girl who is just like him and finding kinship. From your description, she's one of the stormy kids who doesn't have SzPD, but carries enough traits of it that she ditched her journey from the Wolf House to Camp Jupiter. Would rather be alone near the ocean than surrounded by people forced to engage.

She senses a suppressed storm inside him. She knows he's different. She can feel it, but can't tell what. Assumes that he favours fresh water versus the storm, and decides that it won't do. Any idiot can turn salt water to fresh water, pull clean water from sludge, sense drinkable liquid nearby.

Dangers are everywhere. He needs to embrace the storm to survive. Fresh water is fine, but he only needs enough for himself. Worse comes to worse, he can just yank it from monsters, from people. In order to do that, he needs to let go and let himself be swallowed by the uncaring depths.

Percy doesn't remember anything but Annabeth. Even past her, there's a gut feeling that other people - forgotten others he tries so desperately to push through the haze to remember - wouldn't be happy if he became nothing but violence. His sister's words make sense as they travel. She does show him useful things. But she scratches at this itch he knows he's been keeping back, even if he can't remember why.

Something in the back of his head calls out for kindness, reminds him to be good. He doesn't recognize the voice, but it's familiar to him, warm and loving, and it's what make him hold back. Why he simply draga her away and apologizes to whoever she ticked off, instead of baring down into a fight like the adrenaline in his veins pumps for.

He knows pissing people off is not intentional with her. Making kids cry in the bus terminal isn't purposeful. It's clear she knows certain social niceties. However, the grand scale of them is beyond her. Combined with her general indifference, she often says or does things that carry unintentional way. Her brows will furrow, like she doesn't know why they're angry or upset.

She is a blank slate most of the time. Any expression shown is confusion or mild annoyance. After just a few days of travelling with her, Percy knows her apathy is not an edgy facade. He's sure she could watch him be tortured and feel nothing. That she might sit by and observe if it kept her entertained. Unless it turned on her, or maybe if she grew bored, it wouldn't stop by her hand.

He doesn't want to be that person. Or at least the voice in his head, the image of Annabeth, the sense of connection in the pit of his stomach don't want him to be that person. Still, he's sure he likes feeling things. Having a favourite burger is better than his sister's "it's just food" opinion because she finds no enjoyment in eating. Feeling has to be better than endless apathy.

Sometimes, though, he's not sure about that. When there's a dam in his chest he's constantly building up. His lack of memory makes knowing why he has to hold his emotions behind the dam hard, but he tries anyway. He knows that the dam is important to Annabeth, important to the foggy other two. He knows the dam is what keeps him good.

His sister isn't stupid though. She's been around people long enough to know how to get them to do things for her. She's not often manipulative, never truly has a reason to be so, she just doesn't care about people enough. But it was useful when she was younger and needed to get people to go away.

The thing about being the perpetual wallflower is that people talk without noticing her standing in the shadows nearby. Secrets abound. There's minimal to no pleasure in the outcome - aunt and uncle screaming because of dual betrayals, other little girls throwing themselves at each other with fists - but it's better than being unentertained and still feeling nothing. At least this way she can focus on something, other than her persistent internal silence.

She knows her brother's lack of memories will make him easier to train. While the girl will be useful in her aim to get Percy to relax, Annabeth confuses her. She's never understood what love is, or why it's important. The word always felt wrong in her mouth. Luckily her mother was understanding. It was spoken very little to her, and her mother never needed any word back. Only other family members demanded the response. They didn't care for her empty tone.

Her vague sense of admiration and gratitude for her mother's defense of her abnormalities was likely the closest she would ever get to feeling love.

Still, she know the emotion is important to people. Friendship, families, lovers - all types of connection that people crave. They will bend easier to the whims of those people. They will soften themselves. They will toughen themselves. They will change.

Both her and Percy are as unrelenting as the sea. They are as stubborn as the bull sacrificed in their father's honour. Forcing Percy's hand is much harder than she'd like. Anhedonia creates a lack of internal motivation to follow through on her goal, but luckily she's been good at forcing herself to do things she has no drive to do.

Turning Percy's gaze away from the inland water, now bottled and caged for vast consumption, to the untamed and thriving sea is the first true goal she's had in a while. Where other kids dreamt of becoming astronauts or doctors, she simply shrugged away the question.

Directionless, the teachers had said every year until she'd been taken to the Wolf House. Doesn't show her full potential.

Certainly those words carry no weight now.

They have closed in on California by the time she sees the first twitch in Percy's gaze. She stands by while he fights. While smaller and seemingly younger monsters do not engage with her, monsters are an unavoidable nuisance. She learnt young how to get rid of them. Bursting blood splattered across grass and trees.

She was five years old when the newspaper of her town reported on spontaneous combustion after she'd been threatened in the park. The Mist made the monster fall in and out of view. When it had exploded, it looked like a little old lady. It was in the aftermath, when people kept asking her if she was okay, and other kids were crying out of shock and fear, that she first realized she was not normal. Both as a mortal, and a person.

Unfortunately for everyone else, she didn't care.

Percy is panting. The monster is fast. Whenever Percy gains the upper hand, it dives towards her. In a rushed follow, Percy loses the upper hand and she steps away from the fight. The cycle continues repeatedly. Percy knows her well enough by now to realize she will not participate until threatened. She wonders if he's upset by that. Other people would be. The kids she had been journeying with after the Wolf House had been.

But Percy never shows bother with her. Perhaps it's his unbreakable skin. Without scratches left behind, it must be easier not to care if she helps out or not.

Nonetheless this battle has carried on longer than it should. Displeasure burns across Percy's face as he chases the monster away from her. In her peripheral she can see another monster coming up. It ignores Percy and the clash of metal to creep closer to her. Partially hidden by the shadows from the trees, it keeps low to the ground.

She's not afraid of dying. Her death is incoming with every passing day. Dying now or later means nothing to her.

Percy disagrees.

She doesn't flinch when monster blood and flesh hit her. Percy's enraged yell echoes in the air, even after he's clenched his teeth shut. His arm falls languid to his side, the tip of his sword scraping the ground. His own monster is nothing but blood on the ground and blood on his person.

The thing they never say about monsters is that only a clean kill instantly dissolves into dust. Pulling their blood outside their body leaves behind a messy corpse. Over time it will dissolve. The skin and all still attached to it goes first, then any guts that had been severed. Then the blood.

She cocks her head as Percy stares at his bloodstained hands. Depersonalization is not unfamiliar to her. She often does not see herself in the mirror, does not recognize the sound of her voice. It's mild. At least she thinks it is. She can reocognize the confusion in Percy's face. The way he flexes his fingers like he's seeking acknowledgement that his hand is his, fingers following his commands.

It never works.

But she doesn't tell him that. This is the first stage of accepting the sea. They were not made for dry land, yet they were banished to it. Forced to walk with spindly legs instead of swimming with strong fins. Smooth skin instead of strong shells. They are not supposed to feel at home in these bodies.

"You should do that next time," she says as Percy clenches his fist and drops his arm. His eyes have cast away, and he does not address her when she speaks. "It will go faster."

He snorts. "Or you could help?"

She cocks her head. "Why? I'm not afraid of dying."

He twists to face her. Upset at her words is clear in his face. Her words hold back her true reason. Yes, she is not afraid of dying, but he is afraid of her dying. He does not want it. And that makes him weak.

I met your step-mother once, her mother had said weeks before the wolves came. They were sat at opposite ends of the living room. Her mother was reading a book. She was doing a puzzle. The TV was on, background noise soft in her head. I asked her why she was worshipped as goddess of the depths, when she was already titled as goddess of the sea and salt water. Surely, the sea included the depths. Why the specification?

She did not respond. It was unnecessary for her mother. Whenever someone spoke of how long it took for her to first speak, her mother simply rolled her eyes and told them that her daughter took after her father. Speaking was not important to him. Of course it would be unimportant to her.

He drowned me, she said, her mother went on. It is what the ocean does. If it loves you, it will keep you. She was once sunlight and warm, but then she took his hand and he dragged her down to darkness and crushing pressure.

Her mother had laughed. It was a melodic sound, one of the few things that let her feel. According to her mother, her father felt the same way about his lover's laugh. A recluse by nature, his children were fewer than others, and only ever born to those who could ignite something in him. He didn't need to know what the feeling was. He just had to know he was feeling.

Did he want to drown you? she had asked.

Her mother snorted. No. If he had, I would have run. Drowning is death, my little guppy. When you find what you love, you will kill them to keep them. When you find what you hate, you will kill them to make them go away.

She had pushed a piece into place and considered her mother's laugh. Can I drown you?

Not yet, guppy, her mother said. But one day, you may.

She knows that Percy does not want to drown her. He does not covet her the way their father covets their step-mother, the way the ocean clings to skin even as people surface and depart across warm sand. He wants her to live because he is fresh water survival and miraculous rains in the heat of summer. For that, he cares.

The ocean is an uncaring thing. It drowns what it wants, even if those who drown, who are dragged to the depths where the world is frozen and dark and crushing, fight valiantly, fight desperately. It kills without mercy. It doesn't care if you suffer in the choke of water in gasping lungs, in the slow sink of vessels, in the salty residue and reflective surface that burns skin under the light of the sun as they float aimless across the waves.

With the bursting kill, the bloody residue, Percy is one step closer to understanding that.

"Did you know they still feel things?" she asks. She pulls the blood from her face and lets it splatter against the mess in front of Percy. "They don't truly die until they are fully dust, and have returned to Tartarus."

He twitches at her words. But he doesn't grimace the way the others had when the daughter of Mors told their group the same thing. He isn't destroyed by her words.

He sighs, a little sad. "Sucks for them."

She thinks that if she were normal, she'd smile. The sadness was minimal. Not like her journeying group. They had been disgusted by her actions. Then distressed by what was said afterwards. They told her to keep the kills clean, unless there was no other choice. Even monsters didn't deserve to suffer endlessly, they had said. She didn't understand the point. So what if they suffered? The battle was won quickly. They could carry on.

They had complained about morality. Complained about ethics. Complained about the blood on their clothes.

It was rude. She was not immoral. Although minimal, she has beliefs. Ethics were followed, even if she did not understand the point. Did she not help them when they needed it? Even when their loss would mean nothing to her. And blood was easy to remove. Another thing she helped with despite her indifference to their state of being, pulling blood off their clothes and skin and hair, just as she was doing with Percy.

He scratches the back of his neck when she's done. "It is easier," he says slowly. Even as she begins to walk off, he stays where he is. His eyes are trained on the blood on the ground. "Isn't it?"

"Yes," she says. "Messy, but fast." She shrugs. "And we can remove the mess, so it's inconsequential."

He pulls his eyes away and caps his sword. It slips into his pocket as he jogs to her. "Right." His voice is soft. His gaze is distance, unfocused. His words aren't meant to be heard. Without thought, they are spoken aloud as he finally begins to acknowledge his true nature. "Inconsequential."

--

Traveling through Tartarus sucks. Both Percy and Annabeth are suffering, but Percy knows their suffering isn't made equal. For starters, Annabeth isn't a child of the Big Three, and is not related to any water deities. Where the river water sucks for both of them, water is water. Relief exists in each gasoline sip. It's disgusting, but in addition to healing his wounds, it wakes him up, gives him a little more energy. Annabeth only becomes tired with every healing but nasty swallow.

But Annabeth doesn't have to struggle with his sister's voice in his ears. With the memories of killing monsters with a firm blast of blood and guts. Once they had been accosted in the street. They drew the monster away into an alley, then Percy reveled in the drench of blood across his skin. There was something invigorating about the wetness.

The homeless man they had woken up when they ran in stared at them in horror. He didn't move or make a sound, but flinched violently when Percy turned and caught sight of him. And for the life of him, Percy couldn't care. He just pulled monster blood off him and carried on.

He was aware, though, that his indifference the man's horror was not the same as his sister's. It was only after his memories came back that he realized. She was Neptune, the cruel and uncaring sea. He was Poseidon, the vicious and tortuous ocean.

She had no emotions. Or rather could not feel them inside her. But where her default was apathy, Percy's was anger. Poseidon had always come across as kind when he and Percy interacted, but Percy knew enough stories about his dad to know he was not the best person. Like Neptune, like his sister, Poseidon didn't care about other people. At least not people that didn't matter to him.

His sister had left him when they closed in on the Bay Area. She didn't say why, but she often didn't give reasons why. She just wished him well, a social rule she had probably memorized, and left.

It was a weird goodbye.

You don't want to drown me, she had said before she left, when they had sat down in the grass of a park to share one final meal together.

He had squinted at her, burger halfway to his mouth. Well, yeah. Why would I?

She stared at him. Her looks always made him feel exposed, as though he was a fish she was cutting open and gutting. Was she seeing things in him? He knew that he could see things in her. She was an open book. A sketchbook though, pages empty. A few of the pages had drawings, marked in pen.

What kind of book did she think of him as? Sometimes he felt like a novel. Middle grade language, and simplified, hinting at harsh topics but never following through, never thinking about them again. Like his want to die, a desire that is rapidly growing the longer they spent in Tartarus. It's harder to push back those thoughts than normal. But even more so, the anger. The rage.

Judging from his sister and himself, that is the difference between Neptune and Poseidon. Neptune is the uncaring sea people speak of. He will drown you, he will let you live, he will float you on a piece of driftwood with no goal in mind. If you fight to live, if you give up and die - it doesn't matter. It means nothing to him. What happens is what happens.

Poseidon is the moody ocean. One minute gentle waves, the next a hurricane. There is no warning. He laughs at toddlers splashing with floaties bigger than their heads and he laughs at drowning passengers fighting to stay afloat in the cold icy waters. He attacks when he's angry, and he can turn angry on a whim. He'll torture you. He'll break you. Then he'll turn soft and happy at the sight of a goldfish in an appropriate tank. People do and don't matter. It depends.

Neptune is without feeling.

Poseidon feels far too much.

The further they walk through the hot painful plains of Tartarus, the more Percy wishes he couldn't feel anything at all. Rage bubbles up in him like a geyser. Annabeth is suffering. It's his fault for not noticing the web, it's the fault of the crew for not helping pull her up. It's the fault of the gods, of the fates, for putting her in this situation after she had already helped save the world the year before.

Anyone else in her cabin could've suffered. It's not like they did as much as she did in the war, suffered as much as she did. Luke was her big brother, her first crush, someone who protected her. She had to watch him change. Had to deal with the constant betrayal. Had to watch him die in front of her.

Why couldn't it have been Malcolm?

Stop, Percy thinks. You're angry, but you're still a good person who doesn't wish harm on other people.

Is he? He doesn't feel like it. After his sister left and he later carried Juno into Camp Jupiter, her influence moved to the back of his mind. It was easy to be good with Hazel and Frank, easy to be good on the ship. But now, with his anger rising fast, the dam holding back the flood creaking under the weight, she was back, echoing in his ear subtle words and reminders.

At the time, he hadn't put much stock into the weird things she said. Now her cryptic montone speech chimes in his brain, like a successful download on a computer. Feel the air, the humidity, she'd say. How does it serve us?

The humidity is a weapon, a threat. The thick water in the air weighs heavy on other people, leaving them sluggish, tired, but keeps him upright and strong. He tries to utilize that one, in the heat of Tartarus, but the exhaustion makes it difficult.

Not all the echoing is useful. Some tempt him to break, to let the dam fall apart. The ocean doesn't hold back. Ships that challenge the sea become crushed beneath its waves. A spill flows as it wants, unbothered by what it leaves behind.

It hurts. He wants to hold back, to let the ships he destroys float on the surface. If he spills, he wants to stay put, be swept up with one swipe of a towel. But does he? The dam holding everything back pushes against his chest, a reminder of the truth.

He doesn't want to hold back anymore. When the Arai came down with their curses, the first slash of their sharp talons against his skin had him wanting to shove them down to the very bottom of the ocean, hoping they stayed alive to suffer as they were crushed into shattered bones and squashed organs. He wants to spill, to flood. To open the dam.

He has morals, he knows the ethics of the world. The rules. But deep inside, his morals are fluid, and the rules don't matter. Nothing does. He feels lawless, beholden to no one and nothing.

Except for the girl stumbling at his side. Except for his mom waiting for him to come home. Except for his best friend pleading for him to stay safe.

They're the only ones that matter.

You don't want to drown me, his sister had said.

He finally understood what she meant.

After this was all over, when the world had righted itself once again, he was going to drown Annabeth, drown Grover, drown his mom. Keep them far below where no one could find them. A protective breathable bubble. Limited space, no way to be out of sight.

In the meantime, the want to drown every threat that approached them is strangling him. He wants every enemy to be obliterated into blood and guts, wants to watch them suffer for even daring to come near them, daring to threaten his girlfriend.

The itch he'd been holding back for years is relentless. Closing in to the front where he cannot escape it. It would be so easy to scratch, he knows it would. But Annabeth. Grover. His mom.

I am a good person, he thinks with gritted teeth as Akhlys argues with Annabeth. The goddess is easy to manipulate. It's not a shock considering her purpose. Still, her agitated shrieks directed at Annabeth makes his blood boil. They need her help. So Percy adds a patch of duct tape to the cracking dam inside him, and repeats, I am a good person.

They follow her warily to the opening of the void of endless night and shadows. The sight of Annabeth withered like a mummified corpse finally exposed to daylight cracks the dam even more. He hastily does his best to apply more tape, caulk, cement paste - what he can to patch up the holes before they leak.

His blood is cold. His stomach turns knots. Dread, despair, distress - it all drips into the threatening waters inside him. The raging waters kiss the edge of the dam with every forceful push of their tides. The threat of a spill burns him.

But he's out of supplies. He can't make the dam higher. He can't patch any more holes.

He grips Annabeth's hand, and makes a joke. It doesn't land as well as he wants. The hole it leaves behind is dug deeper by Akhlys' response, and then again by her cackling betrayal. He wants to run, to keep the dam steady, stay moral, stay ethical, stay good.

But the itch burns now, a rash at the front of his skull. Riptide makes no effect when he slashes at her. His sister's words echo in his ear. The feeling of bursting blood. The ease of it.

Annabeth charges at the goddess, screaming right in her ear. Akhlys startles. Using the distraction, Percy ducks away as best he can. Smoky legs are difficult to maneuver. His sword is useless. Annabeth is faster than him. It's amazing. It's infuriating. It's confusing.

A sea of emotions drip-dropping into the dam. The edge of the dam wets. Little beads of water forms against the concrete. As his mind vibrates ways to defeat the goddess while he's effectively out of commission, Percy trembles.

He yells out uplifting words. Enraged the goddess turns on him. Poison sap flows all around him. The fumes burn his nose. His head turns fuzzy. The itch is the clearest thing left behind. So loud and demanding. The beads of water on the lip of the dam grow bigger.

Water is water, he thinks. The ocean is salt water, but hadn't Percy controlled fresh water before? Controlled lakes, streams, rivers? Controlled blood? Water is liquid. The ocean is liquid.

Poison is liquid.

He had never focused on the water in the monsters. It had just been an explosive burst the first time, and he carried it over each time. Built up the feeling, focused on them, and let go like Mentos in a soda bottle. He hadn't thought much of it. More focused on the complex feelings it left behind. But that's what it was, wasn't it? The water in their bodies, the blood in their veins, the liquid he could sense.

Offhandedly, hs sister had mentioned they could sense water when it was nearby. Sometimes he did, after gym when he was tired, sweaty, and thirsty. His gut pulling him in one direction to his water bottle tucked into his backpack, or the water fountain. But there were background senses. Other gut feelings.

Poseidon is god of the sea. But people see the sea as water, and water is water.

As a crack in the dam forms, chips of concrete falling into the abyss, the growing tide of poison around him stopa. Then violently recoils back towards the goddess. She shrieks and stumbles away, but it encircles her like a cage.

You can't bottle the sea, Percy thinks as he stands. How dare you fucking try.

The goddess chokes on poison fumes. The dam cracks some more. The beads of water on its lip wobble precariously now. They've grown to reach both sides of the dam's concrete lip. His heart hammers as he watch Akhlys gag and crumble to the ground. His sister's voice echoes in his ear. The itch burns.

And finally one droplet wobbles over the edge of the dam and falls down in the abyss.

Everything shatters.

Akhlys suffocates as he pushes her gagged drool back into her mouth and drown her throat. Her dripping nose plugs back up. She claws desperate at her chest. The poison pulls up her thighs and stomach, lancing around her chest. It burns away the fabric of her clothes, leaves behind thick welting wounds.

He gives her a repreive of breath.

Then starts again. Poison flows through veins. It wraps around her lungs, it replaces her golden blood. The ichor flows fast out of her. Distantly he can feel Annabeth grabbing him, can hear her beg him to stop, but the sound of the flood drowns her out.

Why should he stop? Why shouldn't he drown her? Why shouldn't he rake up the water pressure of the blood in her veins and watch her bones be crushed? Why shouldn't he break her bones and destroy her muscles by pulling out the blood inside them? Why shouldn't he fill, her lungs with mucus so each torturous breath he gives her is as painful as the suffocation?

He takes hold of every possible source of liquid, anything that has a speck of water inside her body and turns it on her. The itch quells with every forceful flow of anger out of him. The flood destroys her.

Good. If she wants to be misery so bad, she should know firsthand what suffering feels like.

He doesn't stop, even when it's so clearly over. He toys with her shattered body like a dolphin with a blowfish. But eventually he relaxes. The flood has turned into a gentle trickling stream. The dam begins its rebuilding.

He exhales slowly and turns to Annabeth. Concern hits him fast. To anyone else, it's be emotional whiplash but for him, it's just how he is. As moody and ever shifting as the sea.

Dried tear tracks stain Annabeth's deathly appearance. Even her empty eye sockets are welled with tears. Her hands clench his arms, nails digging into flesh. As he fusses over her, her hands detach slow. Her arms fall limp to her sides. She doesn't flinch or push back when he pulls her in to a tight relieved embrace. She doesn't say anything, even though he can tell there's so much she wants to say about what happened.

But she holds him back just as tight.

Percy clings to that like a lifeline.

[saintedbythestorm]

Man I cannot decide if I want more persona 3 reload or more brutal legend... what have I done to myself?!

...

Wait...

I STILL HAVE TO OPEN MY AIGIS EDITION OF P3R!!!!!

[cannibaldollcasscass]

I was deathly frightened of adding X Men tags here due to the fandom being really big and not engaging with it as much, but here’s a redraw of Magneto, Magda and their first baby from this comic panel. I thought it would be nice to make my own version of Magda because I have heard that she was originally Romani, so I wanted to make a pretty design based on traditional clothing from old Roma film. I am still doing research on Polish Romani culture, but I do hope the apparel is accurate plz lmk ;_; I am open for suggestions. X men 97 isn’t my thing, but I, however, really fuck with Magnetos design 👍 I regret not making his expression more intimidating, but I feel like it fits a little bit here. Anyway Marvel plz do more with Magda!!

(Small edit: Recently learned that Magda is actually Sinti Roma so I want to change that. ALSO AGAIN THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE COMPLIMENTS 🤍🤍🤍🤍 X MEN FANDOM HERE IS SO KIND!!)

[ssspringroll]

DL (sfs, no ads) alt. (mediafire, no ads)

Happy Halloween!

The long awaited. At least by me, anyway. I was so so so sick to my stomach when i installed the werewolves pack for the first time and realized the ears just... look like that. No matter what you do. So I fixed it. I fixed your werewolf ear sliders, EA.

The sim must be positioned as demonstrated in the gifs in order for the sliders to work. Sliders from all other directions haven't been touched, so all the original sliders should still be intact. We have an ear position slider, which lets you slide the ears slightly back, slightly forward, and down. Ear width and extra ear scale, because there's no such thing as 'ears too big'. And the last one, which requires detail edit mode to use, is an ear rotation slider. The longer I looked at the unedited ears the more they started to look very weirdly angled to me, so I made this subtle slider as a fix for that. It's very hard to see what you're doing, but thats EA's fault, nothing I can do about that. These are all in the same package, and will conflict with any other werewolf ear sliders. But, as far as I know, these are the only ones. So you should be good. 👍

I did my best to give the ears a good range of motion without distorting too much at the extremes. I hope you can get the look you're going for with these. I know I can.

I also made my own version of a snout enlongerer. Setting it to max looks a little silly, but I usually like to push my sliders to the extreme so you have as much play as you need. I don't like it set to max on most of the sims I tested with, but sometimes you do need that extra snoutiness. I think this will conflict with other snout sliders, but it's a separate package, so you don't have to get it if there's another snout slider you're already using.

Lastly, you can all thank my mom for this. I wasn't even going to make a halloween gift this year, but I told my mom about my old WIP Werewolf sliders, and she got very excited about the idea. So I made it. For her. You can have it too, if you want.

Bonus:

Before -> After on this werewolf.

Their Before picture is genuinely the biggest, best looking ears I could manage with the EA sliders alone. I prefer their After look much more. Seems more natural. Seems proportioned better. To me, anyway.

[magpigment]

he doesn’t have a lot he’s gonna leave behind anyway, just a notebook and a body

og version below the cut

without the bit of color editing 👍

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

fiber observations (knitting edition): peduncle silk

[plain text: fiber observations (knitting edition): peduncle silk]

peduncle silk from type of wild tussah silk worm. what typically think of as tussah silk, is from cocoon. but peduncle silk from stem part. n like stem, peduncle silk processed from it very stiff apparently because “glue” that bind it together.

it so called “rare fiber,” but not sure if it rare because actual few in number, or like. time consuming process for fiber that not very useful beyond niche fiber artist “ooo new thing let’s try.”

anyway. got some peduncle silk yarn some time ago to do exactly that “ooo new thing let’s try” thingie.

[id: hank of peduncle silk yarn that functionally described below. end id]

in real life it dark yellowish brown color that have these “inclusions” of lighter stuff that almost look like tweed. not sure if it just how yarn processed or how peduncle silk. it DK weight n each hank said have 200 yards. n have 5 hank of it, if careful, can make small adult sweater for me. it not my usual color by any means (pastel & bright rainbow), but again “ooo new thing let’s try,” & rarely wear/make anything other than sweater, so, sweater 👍

people (primarily spinners) online said it feel more like wool than silk, n think that pretty accurate—though me would say feel more like cotton than silk. am big avid cotton not-enjoyer, so don’t knit or spin with it to able compare actual properties, but avid not enjoyer mean can feel yarn n immediately tell it cotton/cotton majority. n. this feel more similar to cotton than wool. but mentally less barrier to it because “ooo new thing let’s try.”

it shipped to me damp n dried since then, but in hank form there still feeling of. like. damp. but it dry. but feel damp.

definitely not something would use regularly (or again after this project) though (tho same seller also had lace version so maybe will make shawl from it just for fart fun of it. don’t think will have very good drape bc stiff but funny rare experiment). harder get + only one color (natural/unbleached) + feel.

[id: two picture of same knitted rectangle from yarn. there centimeter ruler on it horizontal and vertical. there also US 6 bamboo needle near by. end id]

knit swatch with US 6 bamboo needle. pre wet blocking. cast on 20 st & it about 9.25 cm wide. knit about 19 st / 21 st if count cast on bind off (unconventional number but got lazy), n it about 7 cm long.

way yarn itself made is… think like 10 ply or something. anyway many lace singles loosely together into yarn. not enjoy that as much… come undone on needle.

it not very slippery, opposite of slippery, so may move to metal needles when do real thing n see. as someone who primarily knit wool & never knit cotton, this yarn idea of what “wool-y cotton” think would feel like to me. if make any sense. but not wool.

immediately after wash, still wet:

[id: first picture hold knitted rectangle in hand against light wood background. next two picture measure rectangle with ruler again. knitted rectangle not look much different. end id]

basically, not much different. with some stretch n shape n put back together, width grew a little to 10 cm, but length not change. not sure why didn’t expect it (prob because last project superwash merino…), but make sense, because stiff.

keep forget this animal/protein fiber not plant fiber.

when wet, have smell. like wet wool have wet sheep smell, this have… wet peduncle silk smell? what associate with damp corners. oh and WET DIRT. really smell like wet dirt.

n. stiffness no joke

[id: first picture of rectangle scrunched up & remaining it shape. second picture of it be stretched very long length wise n remain shape. end id]

like scrunch it up n put it on table not so carefully n take time for photo, still very remain shape, no sign of move. same for pull stretch really out n still mostly stay there.

second picture visually remind me of superwash merino. except in reality opposite of it—superwash merino feel floppy. uncontrollable growth. once it stretch you need accept fate. (until say fuck you n throwing dryer for few minutes that is). this more… stiff n rigid. you need be one to stretch it. n then put it back in shape n it measurement not change much at all.

anyway. it still wet on table. gonna see if any different when dry, but doubt any. hard imagine what it like to wear it with just swatch (wet swatch at that), but would imagine it not spiky but more heavy. curious about warmth. it look quite thick for dk but measured n indeed dk.

thinking about knit field sweater on ravelry (feel like right vibe for color). scared about it bc people say pattern poorly written/translated. but there lots notes online so hoping go okay.

[op nonverbal autistic with communication impairment disability. do not comment about how talk. still english not need “translate.” do not rephrase into “proper” english without ask.]

[shadows-writing-lounge]

Content: General Horny headcanons. Ganondorf calculations. General Ganondorf .

Kinks and activities mentioned: Size kink, fingering(Ambiguous)

Ganondorf only for now(I was tempted to put stuff for Ganon, phantom Ganondorf and Demise).

Reader: This post his general, gender neutral, without mentions of genitalia. Butt stuff fair game. Reader is refered to as smaller than Ganondorf because no matter the iteration he's at least 7'6" feet<228.6 cm> (Oot source Hyrule Historia) and they keep making him bigger. (Gamespot pixel counted and said Totk Ganondorf is about 10 feet <305cm>) you/your

Pussy having reader version

Dick having reader version

More of this

General Headcanons

Ganondorf's goods

Balls are also heavy. They really fill your palm. I see people use breeder balls very often but I think it's an apt description of these boys.

As we all know he's big. Big in every aspect. I don't like to designate specific sizes or details for self projection sake but for the people that asked I'll attempt to describe it for y'all. Despite what people think height doesn't equal bigger dick but ignore this because he a big boy anyway. After some tasteful research. Which means I looked at studies of hand to penile length calculations, looked up some fan estimates he's at least 22.9cm <9 inches> though I'd personally say bigger. Girth could also be wild but I will limit it to 17.78 cm <7 inches> in max because the human anus can stretch to 17.78 cm <7-7.5 inches> if you're into that feel free to go bigger. It's hefty. Hangs down when erect.

Ganondorf carries more that one great sword 👍 (watch me edit this out at a later date)

Cum wise I imagine him with a thicker consistency. Opaque. Slightly salty. He has no preference where he cums so if you do be sure to tell him.

Ganondorf is a king who takes self maintenance serious. Literally never looks bad or ungroomed. Though I believe there wouldn't be time to shave. He is clean and would most likely trim beforehand if he thinks he'll initiate intercourse.

Muscle lovers are feasting good. Nice ass and thighs with every iteration. Torso changes but I think all of them are pretty good.

Ganondorf is not that vocal during the act. Usually only responding when talked to or the need arises. Confirmation of continued consent or if something is working etcetera.

Ganondorf's kinks

I will say his kinks probably change depending one which iteration you're looking at though some are shared. I'd peg Ganondorf as uncaring of his partner's sex.

-Size kink(all) is an obvious one. He's so much bigger sometimes he doesn't even need to undress to overwhelm his lover as they struggle to take his fingers. Though he also enjoys the reverse of his smaller partner taking control. Just don't instigate a coup on your self.

-Going along with size kink Ganondorf likes to Manhandle. Holding his partner in the air, holding them down and moving them mid bang and some iterations are into being a little rough physically.

-Praise kink both receiving and giving. (All) Oot Ganondorf sometimes leans into the mocking variety. Warriors very sparingly praises but always means it.

-Degradation kink giving only.(OoT, TP, ToTK) Twilight Princess is that classy degradation. Wind Waker would attempt but wouldn't be able to do it long as he feels it's dehumanizing. All you'd really get is the rare times when he's outraged.

OoT makes me think he'd be into Dacryphilia.(ToTK as well but lesser)

Roleplay involving power imbalance. OoT only if he's the higher power, HW he'll humor being the lower power, TP occasionally either or.

ToTK generally refuses to give up power unless you offer in a specific way. Such as it being akin to worship or that he's so powerful he doesn't even bother to give an effort. Stroke both is dick and his ego. Predator/Prey is the only exception you can't convince him to act prey like.

Exhibitionism. Even if an iteration doesn't care for others seeing their partner naked. He is a possessive and jealous man. He revels in showing off what's his and other's knowing they're off limits. If he has access to a throne...

Body worship. Both receiving and giving. He enjoys letting his partner know how much he desires them and vice versa.

Note: I'm not really into Degradation, Daceyphilia, so I can really get into depth as I would like. If you have ideas feel free to send it in. For educational purposes of course.

Reader Insert Headcanons

Regardless of how much you weigh or how big you are. He'd be able to pick you up. He likes letting you know this. So malleable small in his grasp. Sometimes his hand makes it's way around your neck. Not tightly but the warmth makes it clear it's there and how much only one hand wraps around you.

He's patient taking his time, relishing it it even, working you open. OoT and ToTk will more inclined to edge you until he can fully slip in. If you voice annoyance he'll do the opposite overstimulating you until he's satisfied.

Very encouraging of you to make noise. Perhaps say how well he's doing. WW is basically the only iteration who's not overly teasing.

Sessions where Ganondorf's focuses solely on you are mostly non penetrative.(unless you request) Outercourse, and intercrural being the focus.

Adding on to that he finds hit very endearing and cute if during a thigh job his tip peeks out the other side. Those he'd praise you if your thighs cover all of him.

Feel free to ride his thighs to completion. He'll let you go unless you ask for his touch. He doesn't hesitate to join fondling and presses kisses where he can reach without disrupting your ministrations. He waits until either you cum or plea for him to help release your buildup.

Couple things for Anorgasmia

Whether it's just difficult or complete lack Ganondorf doesn't mind if you can't come. If it's difficult but possible and you want to climax, he'll have you guide him. Telling him how and we're to touch to force out that climax.

Otherwise he relies on you informing him of he's doing something that's uncomfortable or painful.

[askamnesiamoonjumper]

oh btw!!! I made full versions of those updated among us dlc Jennabrown art renders by frankensteining the old images to the new ones to make the full refs and painstakingly editing the old ones to match the image quality/color changes and get rid of the background by hand, so yayyyyy👍 enjoy my labors LOL watch Jenna post the actual transparent versions after me doing all this I’m betting money ANYWAY, YYYAAAYYYY YIIPPPEEEEEEE THEYRE REAL

[wingsdippedingold]

Please remember SJM is a terrible writer

and that's why there's huge divides about characters and plots. It's not that we all interpret things differently, its that she didn't think that far ahead - or behind since she regularly retcons, SOMETIMES WITHIN THE SAME BOOK

She has old posts about romance stuff but that's it. The actual plot is secondary to her fantasy couples. Ofc its a romantacy so it'll focus on that, but you still need to have the basic skills of writing down, which she very clearly does not (despite it being 12 years since your first published book, seriously wtf are you doing??)

She's good at storytelling, she made cool characters and a cool setting, but she cannot write them

I love discussing characters, but with hers it's useless half the time because she cannot write consistent characters nor a cohesive narrative. She regularly changes character traits on the fly, and bends the narrative to serve her favs.

If you find yourself pulling your hair out, just know, so are her editors (whom she does not take feedback from, so really why are they there) 👍

Conclusion: ACOTAR (and her other books) weren't written to be books, they're just shared pieces of her personal fantasy and diaries, which would be fine if she didn't perpetuate terrible stereotypes and harmful relationships. - i also touch on the books being her personal self-inserts here but it's more jokey

It was clearly not meant to be a series, but with the success she made with the first, an edited (albeit very slightly) version of an old draft, she made more hence the latters being very disjointed.

I'd like to end with another reminder that SJM is a bad person, please do not support her upcoming books, if you really want to read them they'll be uploaded to some website after like 2 weeks anyway

[eliasdrid]

you keep putting these tokusatsu shows on my dash for months and I have less than zero context what they're about. what's the cliffnotes version to get me interested in whatever these odd looking robots or perhaps creatures are doing?

Alright I'll try my best but it might get long.

To me, the most appealing thing about them is that the suits are very much suits, they often try to use practical effects where they can and there's a lot of neat choreographed fights. There's also often sci-fi elements (which I'm a fan of). Each season of each show seems to be made with love and passion for the genre* too and I've read/seen a few interviews which support this. There's also some very talented actors and it's amazing to watch them play pretend the colorful plastic weapons are real and can hurt you (they really sell it to you if you can suspend your disbelief a little and have some fun).

*edited - I wrote labor of love but forgot it is a specific thing and might not apply very well here?

Anyway. I'll give you the basics. The three big tokusatsu shows you may often see around are: Kamen Rider and Super Sentai (both from Toei) and Ultraman (from Tsuburaya).

Screenshots from: Kamen Rider OOO (2010), Kikai Sentai Zenkaiger (2021) and Ultraman Blazar (2023)

There's others! like Dogengers (screenshot below) - but I'll try to focus on those three.

In general these shows are aimed at young audiences so you have to watch with that in mind. Also, like any superhero show, they will want to sell you merch (figures, toys, plushies, etc).

Another important thing to know is that the seasons of these shows are usually self contained, and each have their own theme, so you can pick any season that catches your eye to check out with no previous knowledge. There are crossovers events (movies and especials) and anniversary seasons which will explore and/or showcase previous content too! I personally really enjoyed Kikai Sentai Zenkaiger (2021) which is a 45th Anniversary Sentai season and I had watched only two other sentais before it.

Now, some differences! so you can tell the shows apart and also know what you will potentially have in store if you decide to watch any. I'll put a read more because this is getting long 👍

Kamen Rider and Super Sentai air all year long, for this reason, seasons usually have 45-50 episodes. All the Ultraman shows I've watched have 25 episodes per season. Meanwhile Dogengers has kept a 12 episodes per season formula so far. Spin offs, specials and reboots have no defined number of episodes (to my knowledge).

I feel like I should mention that (especially in the case of 45-50 episodes shows) the episodes might feel a bit off sometimes? Be aware there's often release schedules with toylines involved* From what I've noticed this usually happens past the mid-season point the closer you get to finale territory. My guess is that, generally at that point, the writing team (or writer) was trying to do things they forgot to properly set up before, tie loose ends and/or finish arcs quickly. *Sometimes other things affect production, like COVID or an actor suddenly not being able to continue with their role.

All shows value The Power Of Love and Friendship and usually feature a team of heroes (or allies) fighting against an enemy faction. There's also, almost always, some sort of transformation device involved and in all these shows the heroes must collect some season-themed item to get power ups. The key difference between each show will be how they decide to play with these things.

Super Sentai is what Power Rangers is based on. If that tells you nothing: there's a team of heroes ("rangers"), color coded suits that are generally not too complex in design and one giant mech vs. giant monster fight per episode (on average). I've not seen too much Sentai so that's all I got for you.

Kamen Rider gives its heroes more complex suit designs and (usually) multiple forms (ascending in strength/skill). Kamen Rider's signature elements are probably: the drivers (belts), the henshins (transformation scenes) and the fact that they often have motorbikes (they gotta ride something).

Ultraman has more of a shared universe between seasons situation going on than the previous two so there's recurring lore. I won't explain that lore to keep this as short as possible. Either there's a host-alien situation (to varying degrees) or the protagonist has the ability to transform. In this show there's always an almost guaranteed Titular Ultraman vs. giant monster fight per episode.

More visuals that might help you tell them apart:

Screenshots from Ohsama Sentai King Ohger (2023)

Screenshots from Kamen Rider Ryuki (2002), Kamen Rider Den-O (2007), Kamen Rider OOO (2010), Kamen Rider Build (2017)

Screenshots from Ultraman Orb (2016), Ultraman Geed (2017) and Ultraman Blazar (2023)

I hope this was helpful! sorry it got long!

[marclef]

What inspired you to make Eyhm?

..... y'know since i don't have to spend several hours putting more effort than necessary into drawing a Cat for this i might as well answer it already lmao 😅

but, well, i KINDA have gone into it before, long story short she's an OC i've had for a long time that i really like putting into other media i like, just for the fun of it really! plus i'm just a really big cat person so, of course i'm going to make an OC based off of my favorite animal 🤗but Pizza Tower's kinda the first time i feel like i've really made her fit into the universe she's in, so much so that i've basically shoved the non-AU version of her off to the waywide, and now the Pizza version of her IS her, more or less! plus i'm just really proud of the design i made for her, i feel like there's a lot more personality than the simple design i had for her in the past.

there's been a lot of changes and other stuff i've made for her over time as well, of course, i'll share a couple silly things here just because i feel like it. (putting under a readmore because, eh, i don't feel like bothering people who couldn't care less heh 💧)

well, i do have what i think is the second(???) time i ever tried drawing Eyhm in Pizza Tower's art style, you can tell the original design i had for her was a lot different though 😅 (also behold one of my first times drawing Peppino, i still didn't know how the heck i wanted to draw this Italian Man yet)

(... and yeah, some old backstory stuff i had for her that's a lot different than it is now, mostly the fact that she KNOWS that she used to be human more than anything. but i won't get into all that here 👍)

speaking of backstory stuff, fun fact. i was inspired to change up the lore and backstory ideas i had for her a while back, partially because i didn't like it, and also in part because i had a weird-ass dream with her in it. i barely remember much about it, besides one very important detail: it had Pizzahead running Eyhm over in a car.

no, i don't know why this is important. but i did make an edit of it. here you go.

is this important to her backstory at all? no. but for some reason it inspired me to change her. thank you Pizzahead Hitting a Small Cat with a Car Dream.

..... okay maybe i got a little off track here. but that's the price you pay for asking me about my Funny Little Guys 👍👍 anyways, back to trying to draw other people's Little Guys for the rest of the month, so long 👋

[givehimthemedicine]

soo. you're saying the massacre is mostly just the s1 demogorgon finale shoved in a blender?

ok I need to break this chunk off my other analysis because it's getting long and creeping off topic, so I will definitely be addressing more aspects of this in my coming-soon portals post but.

like okay the demogorgon/One banishings were an obvious parallel since the second we saw it, but I never realized how many similarities there are throughout the whole finale especially when you include the flashback part:

I hope my editing is mostly self explanatory but some notes -

El walking down a dark hallway with particles floating towards her towards a glowing red exit hole = visually similar to El's trip down the birth canal [so specifically the 4x7 massacre version with the vaginal birth memory]

El turning around with the crack in the chalkboard behind her = El turning around with the crack in the RR wall behind her [so specifically the 4x1 version of this shot because that's the one with the gate]'

the party taking El into the classroom = Brenner being in the test room for lessons with Ten when the massacre starts [this being a Brenner-only scene sorta rules out this being purely based on organic memories of El's? unless El = Ten]

at the end of the school part, El is "born" into a stark white school hallway that, even upon a s2-era watch, seemed a bit labby. but post-4 we can really appreciate this set design... horizontal stripes wrapping the walls and a corresponding pattern in the floor tiles? blood smeared all along the floor like somebody got dragged? El, covered in a nasty substance, falling perfectly centered onto the floor pattern after "experiencing" her own birth? that's pure Rainbow Room, baby.

I'm not trying to construct a narrative with that video, I'm just matching shots that reminded me of other shots, so its parallels are all out of order and roles switch around (but then, ditto the actual massacre).

had to kinda shoehorn in El getting dragged because we don't see how those blood trails happen in s1 but you'll forgive me. (someone else getting dragged through blood here vs us seeing El get dragged in the massacre smth smth multiple els in the massacre)

also.. where are the bodies?... disappearing/moving massacre bodies... MPs wouldn't drag their dead down the hall, they'd pick them up. so the demogorgon dragged them? creature massacre theory save me

there of course are a lot more things in NINA that could be other remixed memories besides the s1 finale, but I'll expand that into another video later.

anyways. losing my mind 👍