#I've lost control of the drawing send help

[allumikota]

Welcome to fanart. I drew a picture.

[impyssadobsessions]

More DMC x DP XD Danny hanging out with the crew uwu. Ghost be his mum uwu. ;3 Imagine Danny like 16-17 and since Patty did always claim she date someone younger (even if its a joke) she does get a mini-crush on danny. But then they become cool friends uwu Patty sticking up for him and showing him around properly. And when Dante away for long periods he crashes with Nero and them. Ends up being Nico's driving buddy. OH NEAT THING IS- I imagine like Danny helping dust and clean and accident knock open a case that had the swords from dmc3 (Agni and Rudra) Which Dante had cooped up because they wouldn't shut up again. Which then becomes Danny's problem and Dante nopes out letting kid handle them. They end up becoming rings for him though since he has such an affinity to magic he can make use of their full power. (Granting him control of fire n ice which he lost since he got into this world) Which is why he can casually light Nico's cigarettes to keep her from trying to find a lighter while driving :D I explained the situation poorly its much funnier situation and makes sense in my head. But I can't draw it out atm T w T. Danny bumping his fist to shut them up sometimes. Dante like uwu you felt sorry for them kiddo uou. They can be annoying and butt in- but Danny also encourages it... to annoy Dante in revenge =w=b But only when Dante is around. XD For having him fight them. Which they fought him- so he could claim ownership =w= And then the thing with his mom. Sadly it is a character from DMC I killed off >> and have to work around to make the storyline work with the other dmc titles. But I felt like She would work well for this kind of story, and also just pain :D ;w; I actually like her.. I swear... But I imagine at least atm (could change depending) that she was tricked by chronos ( the half that still laid in this world) to create a portal to save Danny- which it did send him to a safer home-but the portal required a sacrifice to work... and she ended up becoming it.

Only for technically Danny becoming one himself :D Also Danny because of his ghostliness is very attuned to magic and imagine Vergil helps spur this on- noting it right away that he's a spell caster. Which does give Danny his niche. Also imagine Danny doing his own kind of work- being able to see spirits and interact constantly- they both help him while he also helps them in return. The ghosts when completing their business turning into a crystal tear of memory. Which has its own uses. The ghosts both help and hinder missions. Though can also see them mistaking Danny for an angel of death which disturbs him a bit.

which this is all head canon stuff that can change hehe. I've been simmering over this for months. I really dove deep in the weeds and can't express even a quarter what I thought of XD. Oh and the bracelet thing becomes like in universe reason how danny can carry all his shit.. also like a gift from clockwork/chronos as the chain comes from the staff. Like he "knew" ;3 That's the god of time for ya.

[meanbossart]

Do you have any advice for people looking to learn how to do color like you? I've been drawing for nearly 13 years but I've never been good with color and feel like my pieces always look rather over blended or that I can't pick good color pallettes.

Just to preface: coloring was fairly new to me just up until recently. I've always done color here and there but it was never my favorite (I very much felt like I had the same problem you're describing) and for a long time my style was largely based around grayscale because of it. When I started doing BG3 art it kind of felt like a necessity to learn, though, since its such a colorful game. So, take my advice with a grain of salt!

My biggest struggle with color was that the style I wanted to do never seemed to match my lineart. I eventually realized that was because my style itself wasn't done with color in mind at all - like I mentioned above, I mostly did grayscale and let the linework carry the art entirely. This also skewed the way I distributed my efforts; I would get really exact and over-detail things with the lineart like I was used to doing, and then felt like I also had to overdo the coloring as well, because the slightly "rougher" rendering I was striving for didn't seem to match the style.

The solution I arrived at was changing the way I approach lineart entirely, purposefully making it sketchier and less "exact", not letting myself be boggled down with details. In this way, I feel like I have far more freedom in how I apply colors and approach the rendering. It has also been extremely beneficial to learn how to push simplification (both in regards to lines AND color) as far as I can before the art stops looking good to me, and that has allowed me to backtrack into more detail again while feeling far more in control of their application. The more you breach out and experiment, the more ways you will have to approach your work when you feel as if you've hit a wall.

Obviously, I don't know if any of this applies to you 😅 but it's info that's been super valuable for me to realize.

Something else that might help is hunting down for tools that don't let you be precise - staying away from sharp liners and brushes and picking stuff that looks more graphical.

Also, not letting yourself zoom into your work too much so you're forced to achieve the shapes you're trying to achieve with rougher strokes and lines, and hence avoiding overworking small details that will ultimately get lost in the final picture anyway.

And assuming you have a good grasp on the basics - put a cap on your rendering time. Try drawing as fast as possible so you're forced to look for alternative solutions for making stuff look good without spending days on it. (I do NOT suggest doing this regularly if you're just starting off learning things like anatomy and perspective though; take your time!)

As for color palettes - I feel like I have a horrible eye for color LOL so I can't offer much wisdom there. I will often be adjusting hues and depth well into the finalization of the piece and ultimately just throw my hands up and say GOOD ENOUGH before sending it off. Taking breaks from looking at the screen so you can take it in with slightly fresher eyes tends to help me, though.

[a-most-beloved-fool]

the first time you reblogged the kiss prompt I was like aaah I want all of these for spirk and I ended up not submitting any at all from sheer feeling overwhelmed by the selection.

but i've been thinking about it and i'm so glad you reblogged it, I was gonna go digging for it!

Still can't decide though, there are so many good scenarios, so maybe any of 4, 10, 17, 18, 23, 28, 38, 46 for Spirk?

... in relief.

It happened in the space of a moment.

First, Spock had been dead. Kirk had been sure of it. The transporter had failed at exactly the wrong moment, and where a Vulcan was supposed to stand, serene, on the transporter pad, instead was simply - nothing. Empty space.

Spock had beamed off the planet, yes, but he never made it to the ship. Dead not to some heroic cause, but mere mechanical failure, leaving his atoms scattered in the black expanse of space so very far from home.

It seemed cruel. Senseless.

Kirk had seen death before, many times, but somehow no loss had hit him as hard as this one did, an icy dagger between his ribs. All Kirk could manage in its wake was to grip the edge of the control panel with shaking hands, barely able to keep himself upright under the weight of the grief which knotted thorny vines throughout his chest.

Spock! Kirk despaired, a sob building in his throat.

But then, the transporter grated again into motion, a terrible whine leaving it as a beam of light slowly consolidating into a heartrendingly familiar form. Kirk stared, half agony and half hope, hardly daring to imagine it was possible. The beam wavered, then settled, and there he suddenly was - somewhat ruffled, yes, but upright and breathing.

The most beautiful creature that Kirk could imagine - Spock, alive! - stood at attention on the transporter pad, and Kirk could do nothing else but take him by the arms and kiss him. It was sheer animal instinct, urging him to grasp what once was thought lost and draw it close.

Those narrow lips were shockingly plush beneath his own, and Kirk basked for a moment in the heat of them, the air that puffed gently between them, proof of life. Relief and adoration spilled from Kirk's every pore as he kissed Spock, working to memorize the contours of his mouth.

Dimly, it occurred to Kirk that he had never done this before. He had dreamed of it, certainly, but never once had he actually kissed Spock. Idly, he wondered why.

Then, quite abruptly, he remembered.

He yanked himself away, a desperate apology tripping to the tip of his tongue, but when he looked up into Spock's face, instead of horror or disgust or stiff rigidity, he saw-

Kirk blinked, dazed. Perhaps he had been too hasty when he had called Spock's earlier appearance, "the most beautiful he could imagine," because this, he thought, might just beat it.

Spock's eyes were loosely closed, dark lashes fanning out over olive-dusted cheekbones. There was no crease between his brows, no mark of discomfort or frigidness which closed him off to the world around him. Instead, their slant suggested some far gentler emotion. His typical lipstick had long since worn away, exposing the natural sage of Spock's lips, which here held soft and slightly parted. Slowly, Spock blinked his eyes open, sending those lashes fluttering. Spock gazed at Kirk, eyes so lovely a brown, and Kirk's heart couldn't help but stutter in his chest at the sweetness of his expression.

Spock looked like a man who had just been kissed.

Spock looked like a man who would like to be kissed again.

Kirk's apology died on his lips, and for a long moment he stood frozen, simply staring, mouth agape. Then, Spock tilted his head, gently inquisitive, and time took effect once more.

"I'm, ah - glad you're back safe, Mr. Spock," Kirk said, looking down and coughing lightly as heat flooded into his cheeks. "I feared for a moment there that you were space dust."

"Indeed," Spock replied, dipping his head. Something almost like a smile sat in the corners of his lips, secret and teasing. "Your greeting was... most unusual, Captain."

"Unusual," Kirk mused quietly. His eyes were fixed just beyond Spock's elbow before he snapped them up again, scanning Spock's face for each telltale trace of emotion. "...not unwelcome?"

And, oh, it was beautiful to see how that almost-smile twitched ever so slightly wider, setting Spock's eyes alight with a subtle glow. "No, Captain," he said. "Not unwelcome. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"I see," said Kirk, and something warm and giddy unfolded inside of his chest, fluttering. A smile which he was certain Bones would call "sickeningly besotted" was spreading helplessly across his face; Kirk couldn't bring himself to try to stifle it. "That's - good to know."

On a whim, he darted forward, pressing another brief peck to the corner of Spock's mouth.

"Very good to know indeed."

_____

from this ask game

(also, if you haven't already seen it - one option you gave was Spirk #17, which I answered for a different ask here!)

[bubblebear4life]

A/N: This is one of my longer fics I've made. It's based on @o-sunny-day drawings of Caine losing his admin privileges. He is a very grumpy boi

The Lost Bet

Caine, the Ringmaster of The Amazing Digital Circus, had lost a bet. To whom, you may ask?

Bubble.

Caine lost a bet to his AI bubble assistant.

How humiliating.

The bet was simple: Could the circus members go an entire day without using any swear words.

The answer was no.

In fact, Caine lost the bet IMMEDIATELY after it started because of an argument between Jax and Zooble.

The Ringmaster will never forget that smug look on the parasitic bubble's face as he stripped away his admin privileges. Just remembering the feeling of his powers fading sends shudders through his code.

Once Caine lost his powers, he could no longer float, causing him to drop to the checkered floor like a heavy sack of potatoes. Actually, he felt like the heavy sack of potatoes himself. Was this how all the humans felt?

Caine didn't like it one bit.

Bubble was giggling the entire time at the sad display. He now wore Caine's top hat that signified he held control over the game's admin privileges. "What do ya think, past boss?" He asked with that grating voice, summoning a mirror in front of his fellow AI.

Caine took a minute to take in his new appearance. His fancy top hat was replaced with a pathetic pork pie one, and his lovely red tailcoat vanished, leaving him in a simple white short-sleeved suit.... And no arms. He didn't have a physical model underneath his clothes, so his white-gloved hands were suspended mid-air with nothing to support them but game physics.

The former Ringmaster placed a hand on his head, attempting to shake off the sudden wave of dizziness that had struck him like a truck. This was a lot to take in.

He could already tell this was going to suck....

~~

It had taken Caine an embarrassingly long time to move from his spot on the floor, relying on his cane for support the entire time. Could you blame him? He rarely had a reason to use his legs before! It left his digital form feeling exhausted.

That led him here to The Tent's lounge that is usually meant for the humans. Caine was sulking on the plush red couch, his cane leaning beside him.

It didn't help that his performers were there as well. Their shocked expressions did nothing to lift his sour mood. "Didn't anyone tell you it's rude to stare?" He mutters, snapping his jaw shut with a loud 'click' as he turns away from them. He could still feel their gazes boring into him.

Jax was the one to break the awkward silence that descended upon them like a heavy blanket. "...This is really weird."

Ragatha shot him a warning glare. "Be nice, Jax," she scolded.

Jax threw his hands up in exasperation. "What? At least I can admit it! Don't act like this isn't strange!"

Zooble chimed in. "Yeah, Ragatha, it is pretty weird seeing him like this."

"I can still hear you!"

"We aren't exactly being quiet about it, Caine." Jax snickers at the AI's grumpy face. Boy, he getting a kick out of this.

A weird rumbling came from Caine that sounded suspiciously like a growl. That was enough for the rabbit to zip his lips in slight fear.

"Uh- Caine, how long is this supposed to last?" Pomni nervously glanced at the usually bright and energetic Ringmaster. A rain cloud seemed to hover over his head, shrouding his once vibrant form in darkness.

"...Five-" Caine was cut off by Bubble appearing in the lounge before them. Caine glares at him, jealous that he could still float and for interrupting his explanation.

"He's stuck like this for five days digital days!" Bubble chirps, spinning with an enthusiastic flourish.

The circus members stared at Bubble with a mix of shock and concern. No one dared to ask what caused this crazy change.

Gangle whimpers, "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Don't worry, my non-soapy friends! Your new Ringmaster, the one and only Bubble, is here to take care of you!" Bubble looked quite proud of his new position of power. With a distant snap that echoed off The Tent's fabric, they were all teleported to the main stage. This included Caine, who immediately fell flat on his face with a loud 'oof!' He wasn't accustomed to being teleported by others; he was supposed to be the one doing the teleporting- certainly not that blasted bubble! Caine grumbled as he tried to get back on his feet.

"Caine!" Ragatha yelped, running over to help him stand. "Are you alright?"

"Does it look like I'm alright?" He huffs, leaning heavily on his cane.

Ragatha bit her lip to stop from saying anything else. So far she wasn't a fan of Caine's new attitude.

Bubble cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "For today's adventure, you'll be going to Harley's Orchard!" The words magically appeared above him in a blue bubble font. "You must trek through the high corn maze to find the hidden cheesecake!"

Surprisingly, most of the humans seemed to be onboard for this adventure. All except for Jax and Caine, who each had their own ways of complaining.

Caine gasped, falling to his knees and throwing his hands up in outrage. "Maze!? A MAZE!!!! THIS IS PATHETIC!!! THIS IS AN INSULT TO THE CONCEPT OF ADVENTURES!!"

Ragatha pats his shoulder in an awkward form of sympathy, trying to comfort him. "Come on, Caine. It doesn't sound that bad!"

"IT SOUNDS POSITIVELY AWFUL!!!!" The AI wailed. He hops back to his feet with a newfound energy, gesturing to the bubble in desperation. "Okay, okay I get it! Now switch back now!"

"Not until five days is over!" Bubble sang giddily, opening a portal to the location. "Have fun, everyone! You too, Caine!"

"Wait what!? Bubble you-" Caine was once again cut off as Bubble shoved everyone through the portal to the Harley's Orchard.

After the humans and AI were gone, Bubble conjured a pipe, blowing a steady stream of bubbles through it.

He'll try quitting another day.

[cre8inghavoc]

What are friends for?

Note:

This is my first ever post, so please be kind! I've been working on this piece for a few days, and there will be more parts to come, but it may take some time to complete. The story will also include text messages between you and your friends (SMAU). I'll do my best to maintain a good length for the story, but there may be some shorter parts. Also, I'm new to this, so there may be a few errors, but I hope you enjoy the story! :)

Status: ongoing!!

Updates: Whenever I can, no set date.

WC: 2756

Description: Characters are aged up. Y/N's stuck in a toxic relationship with her controlling boyfriend, feeling lost and doubting herself. Now, she's facing a crucial choice: stay put or find the courage to break free and reclaim her independence. Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader

Genre/Warnings: [18+] This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU.

Your friends have been telling you to leave your boyfriend for months now. They warned you about him, about his manipulative, controlling, and narcissistic nature, which contributes to his toxicity. They keep pointing out his flaws – how he always wants. No. NEEDS to tag along wherever you go, how he tries to control what you wear and who you hang out with. And don't even get started on the name-calling and arguments that seem to happen like every single day. But despite all their warnings, you find yourself wondering if maybe it's just his way of showing he cares… it was all out of love wasn’t it? If he didn’t care about you he wouldn’t act the way he does… 

Right…?

You're constantly caught in a loophole of conflicting feelings. On one hand, you can't help but notice the red flags they've been waving in your face. But on the other hand, there's a part of you that wants to believe there's genuine love behind his actions. He loves you?

Right…?

Still, you can't help but question: does all this make him a "bad boyfriend"? Sure, he's not physically abusive, but his mood swings leave you feeling like you're walking on eggshells. As you grapple with these thoughts, you can't help but wonder where to draw the line between love and toxicity.

"Y/N!"

You snapped back to reality as Maki's voice cut through your thoughts, finding yourself now parked in front of Yuta's house, a 15-minute drive from your own.

"Are you okay? You've been lost in thought the entire car ride here," Maki asked, a mix of concern and confusion evident in her tone.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was just thinking about the exams coming up," you replied with a forced smile, though it didn't seem to convince her entirely. Luckily for you, she didn't question further. 

You made sure to silence your phone before heading out, knowing the argument that would likely occur with your boyfriend over your plans with friends. It wasn't news to you that he disapproved of your friendship with Yuta and Inukami, despite having plenty of female friends himself. Hypocritical isn't it. But today, you decided to take a stand. You were tired of the never-ending arguments and his controlling behaviour. It felt like you couldn't say or do anything without setting him off, and honestly, you were fed up with it.

You felt it was the right decision, even if it meant facing another argument later. You were determined to spend the day enjoying yourself with your friends, and if that meant upsetting him, then you were willing to deal with the consequences. After all, arguments had become a daily occurrence between you two, so what harm would one more do?

You didn’t quite know where this newfound confidence had come from. Normally, the thought of upsetting him would send shivers down your spine, making you hesitant to go against his wishes. But today was different. You were reaching a breaking point, tired of his behaviour and the constant strain it put on you. Mentally, you were drained. Ever since getting together with him, you'd been affected with a sense of unhappiness, a feeling that even your friends had picked up on. All they wanted was to see you happy again, but it felt like an impossible challenge to break free from his control and spend time with them. He dictated every aspect of your life, and you were beginning to realize just how suffocating it had become.

He felt like a never-ending storm cloud, hovering over you wherever you went, casting a shadow of negativity that left you feeling drained and miserable. It was as if his presence drained your strength, both physically and mentally, until you were left feeling defeated. You knew deep down that the only way to find a “cure” was to get rid of him, but it was far from simple. If it were that easy, you would've done it long ago, at the first signs of trouble.

Believe it or not, he wasn't always like this. That's why you were drawn to him in the first place. But as time passed, things only seemed to deteriorate. A part of you held onto hope that he would revert to the person he once was—caring, supportive, and loving. Yet, as months turned into nearly a year, nothing changed. If anything, it only seemed to worsen. 

Why? Why did he change? Was it something you did? Was it your fault? Did you somehow fall short? He always made you question your self worth. He made you believe that this was what you deserved—that you deserved to be hurt, to be broken. He convinced you that you weren't worthy of more.

You and Maki entered Yuta's house, using the spare key you both had. It was a common practice among your close group of friends; you all had keys to each other's homes. After all, you practically grew up together, so there was nothing unusual about dropping by unannounced.

Inumaki and Yuta greeted you warmly as you entered the living room, where they were too focused on a video game. As the hours passed, laughter filled the room, followed by playful teasing and occasional cussing at each other due to the intense gaming moments. You all talked about life, ate your favourite meals, and for the first time in a while, you felt a sense of happiness return. It was as if you were reconnecting with the positive, joyful version of yourself that had been buried beneath the weight of recent struggles.

"I'll be right back! Just need to use the bathroom," you announce before grabbing your phone and heading off.

"Do you want us to pause the movie?" Yuta offers, showing his consideration for your absence.

"No, it's okay! Keep watching, I'll be quick," you assure them with a laugh as you slip away.

Time flew by, and before you knew it, it was almost 9pm. Your peaceful day took an abrupt turn when you saw multiple missed phone calls from no other, your loser of a boyfriend. 

**5 MISSED PHONE CALLS AND MESSAGES BETWEEN Y/N & BF**

Luckily, Maki, Inukami, and Yuta were too engaged in the movie to notice your lengthened absence. However, tears welled up in your eyes as you read the messages, feeling the weight of self-doubt creeping in once again.

"I’m just a bitch. That’s all I am. I'm nobody," you muttered to yourself, your eyes red as you struggled to contain your emotions. You couldn't afford to show weakness in front of your friends. This shouldn't affect you, you reminded yourself. You knew this was coming, so why did it hurt so much?

Knock Knock

A knock on the bathroom door interrupted your thoughts. "Hey, Y/N. You okay in there?" Maki's concerned voice broke through your internal chaos.

Fuck.

Of course, Maki sensed something was wrong. She had picked up on it the moment she picked you up. She wasn't one to pry, though. She respected your privacy, and if you didn't bring up the issues first, she wouldn't force them out of you. That's why you cherished her friendship so much—she was the best friend anyone could ask for.

You wanted to tell her, you really did, but you knew all too well what her response would be, and frankly, you didn't want to hear it—not today. All you wanted was to be with your friends, to immerse yourself in their company and forget about your troubles, if only for a little while. You didn't want them worrying about you or your mental state. So you took a deep breath and plastered on a smile, hiding all the negativity like you always did.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was just on the phone with my mom," you said, forcing a smile as you opened the bathroom door, only to be met with Maki's skeptical expression. Her raised eyebrow spoke volumes, questioning your excuse without saying a word. But she didn't press further. Instead, she offered a soft smile and placed a comforting hand on your back.

"You're missing the movie. We decided to pause it when you didn't return after five minutes. Come on, let's go," she said gently, leading you back to the living room.

You both made your way downstairs and settled back onto the couch, resuming the movie with the others. After a few minutes, Yuta stood up from his spot and took a seat beside you, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear so only you could hear him.

"Hey, I know you haven't been feeling your best lately, and I understand why... But I want you to know that you can always talk to me. To us. We're here for you, no matter what." he whispered, his words causing your heart to stop for a moment. A soft smile spread across your lips as he leaned back, his eyes meeting yours with warmth.

"Thank you," you replied softly, leaning your head against his shoulder as the movie continued. Resting on each other like this was a familiar gesture among your group—it was something you all did since childhood, a sign of trust and comfort. So when you leaned on Yuta's shoulder, it wasn't a romantic gesture—it was more like seeking comfort from an older brother figure. Your friends have always been there for you, caring and supportive, much like older siblings would be.

Finally the movie finished, with the time now showing 11:16pm—it’s very late, thank god you guys had no classes scheduled for the next two days.

"It's getting late, Y/N. Are you ready to head back?" Maki asked, her expression soft with concern.

Before you could answer, Inukami jumped in with a hopeful tone, asking if you guys could stay a bit longer. You could tell he was really loving the reunion, bringing back memories of all the fun times your group had shared in the past… just like before you got into a relationship. 

"Yeah, come on, Maki and Y/N! We haven't had this much fun in a while. It feels good for the group to get back together again," Yuta chimed in, his gaze shifting between Maki and you. The collective attention turned to you, though you knew it wasn't intentional—they subconsciously understood that the decision rested with you, or rather, with your boyfriend's expectations.

Even though it was late, the idea of going home to an empty house, knowing your boyfriend would be out, doing who knows what, filled you with dread. You knew it would only trigger more overthinking and anxiety so with a reassuring smile, you decided against it. Tonight, you didn't feel like going home, and that was perfectly okay.

"Fuck it," you thought, smiling back at them. 

"Why don't we have a sleepover?" You ask, breaking the silence. Their eyes widen in shock, the suggestion catches everyone off guard. It's been a while since the last sleepover, back before you started dating your controlling boyfriend. They've tried to organize some since then, but you always declined, due to your boyfriend's disapproval.

Of course. Typical.

Their initial shock quickly turns into smiles and nods as they exchange glances before turning back to you.

"Let's do it!" Maki says with excitement.

All of them cheered in excitement, and the lively conversation continued throughout the night until exhaustion finally led to all of you drifting off to sleep on Yuta's spacious and comfortable couch. Despite the cozy setup, you found it hard to sleep as your mind continued to race, clouded by thoughts of him once again. Unable to find peace, you quietly slipped outside to the backyard, just to get some air.

Yuta awoke shortly afterward, noticing your absence. He got up from the couch, careful not to disturb Maki and Inumaki and began searching the house, half expecting to find you sleeping in his room. But you weren't there. He started to slightly panic as he considered the possibility of you leaving without informing anyone. How did you get home? Was something wrong? Why would you leave without saying anything?

As his mind rushed with worry, Yuta made his way to the backyard door and spotted you sitting on the stairs. Leaning against the door frame for a moment, he gathered his thoughts before joining you outside, silently taking a seat beside you.

"Hey," Yuta says as he settles beside you.

You jump at the sudden sound, caught off guard by his unexpected presence. "Omg, Yuta," you playfully shove his shoulder, "don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry," he chuckles softly, "didn't mean to scare you."

"What are you doing out here this late?" he questions.

"Couldn't fall asleep so I decided to get some air."

"Something on your mind?" He asks with concern.

I smile at him. "No."

"Come on, Y/N. I've known you for years; you think I can't tell when something's on your mind..."

You both sit there in silence for a moment before he speaks up again.

"Is it—"

"Mhm. But I don't want to talk about him. I'm here with you guys today, and that's what's important. Not him," you state, trying to change the conversation away from your boyfriend.

Yuta gives you a reassuring smile and nods, but then an awkward silence settles between you. It's unusual; conversations with your friends usually flow effortlessly, so why does it feel so difficult now?

After a moment, you decide to break the silence.

"Yuta..." you begin hesitantly.

He meets your gaze with a soft look. "Yeah?"

"I'm thinking about breaking up with him, you know," you confess.

Yuta's eyes widened in shock, a spark of excitement shining in him. As your best friend, he genuinely cares about your well-being and wants what's best for you. They all do, and they know that leaving your boyfriend will bring out the best in you, bring back the real you.

"Really?! How come... I mean, I already know why, but I'm just curious after all the times we've mentioned it to you, you never really pa—"

"Yuta," you interject, giggling at his enthusiasm.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking, and being here with you guys today reminded me of the times we used to have together before him and I got together. And honestly... I haven't felt happier and more relaxed in a long time until now. It's like when I'm with you guys, I'm constantly smiling, laughing, talking, and I never feel judged. But with him, I feel so... miserable. I don't even remember the last time he and I actually talked and had a laugh together. It's always arguments, and he's the one who always starts them over nothing."

Yuta places a comforting hand on your shoulder and gently wipes away the tears on your face. You hadn't realized you were crying. You tried your hardest not to cry for months, but while telling Yuta how you felt, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Shhh... it's okay, Y/N. I'm glad you feel like yourself when you're with us. You deserve so much better than that jerk," he reassures you, his words bringing a sense of comfort.

He never fails to make you laugh.

"Thanks, Yuta," you say gratefully.

"Hey, what are you guys doing outside?" Maki and Inumaki mumble sleepily as they stand at the door.

Yuta grins mischievously and glances over at them. "What's with that ugly grin?" Maki jokes, prompting laughter from everyone.

"MAKI!" you all shout in unison, teasing her.

Yuta can't contain his excitement any longer. "Y/N is planning on breaking up with her boyfriend!" he blurts out.

If Maki and Inumaki thought they were awake before, they're definitely wide awake now. They exchange shocked glances between you and Yuta, repeating the gesture several times. You can't help but smile; despite the gravity of the situation, you feel a sense of pride. Proud that you've finally gained the courage to do something you've been wanting to do for months.

"You're not messing with us, right? Because I swear to god Y/N, if I find out yo—" Maki begins, her voice tinged with concern.

You cut her off before she can finish her sentence. "I swear I'm not messing with you guys. I'm going to do it tomorrow night."

Yipeee!! Go Y/N!!! finally we've all been waiting for this moment.

im currently working on the next part so please be patient!

Also, thank you so much for reading!

[kawareo]

My Durge's stats pre-tadpoles are absolutely insane so I've been thinking what it'd look like if Orin failed to lobotomize him... Like the fight with him a Tav would have to win?

It'd be a bitch but there'd be fun options to make it easier and winnable

Him and Gortash would be working together still but what'd complicate things would be that Bhaal would've grown impatient and reduce Durge to a mess that would've dragged hinself in his temple and stay there. When Tav talks to Gortash, Gort has a massive fresh scar over his neck where Durge nearly killed him last time they were together. Gortash sends Tav to the temple but he fully expects/hopes they would die and that that could bring Durge back to his own mind.

If Orin would still be alive? Tav could make a deal with her that she'd help them find the temple, where she'd eventually need help in the combat with Durge, but if Tav would've helped her, that'd initiate a fight with the entire temple and with Orin, who'd be furious that you intervened.

Then, fight with Durge would be a bitch to win, but there would be some ways to get around and make it easier. Most of all would be useful a Persuasion or Deception proficency, and also going around Baldur's Gate and finding information about him - what would be Tav's best option would be to provoke Durge to a degree that he loses his already fragile cool and Bhaal forces a Slayer form on him - that way he loses his spellcasting abilities and also the double attack he gets from his fighter levels, and his paralysis weapons!

Options for that would get him to lose his shit would be

- [Deception] Gortash has sold you out, you mad dog. You've grown too unpredictable after what happened, we're here to put you down.

Has Advantage if Tav found notes between them or used Detect thought when talking to Gortash and asking him about his injury. He lies to Tav's face but thinks about how Durge mauled him last time they fucked and Gortash had to fight him off of him

- [Persuasion] Look at what you've became; Chosen of Bhaal, yet fighting His gifts? Your own Kin died for what you're rejecting so.

Only available if the above mentioned Orin thing happens. Durge stares at her corpse for quite a while, then proceeds to sort of... Give up. Accepts the Slayer and surrenders himself fully to his Father.

- [Persuasion] [Unholy Assassin] You think you know better than your own god, Chosen? You, who has failed him so in every way?

He starts to yell at Tav that he didn't fail, then as if something hit him, clutches his head and starts begging Father for forgiveness (reciting some parts of Prayer of Forgiveness). While he prays, he cuts himself, the blood drips down his arms and draws itself into the circle of Summoning for the Slayer.

When Tav wins, Durge lays there dying for just a bit longer, stares into nothing and clutching at his wounds and begging Father to forgive him because "im not done yet, Father, please, I can do better, plea-!" And then his eyes roll up suddenly and he dies in a moment, when Bhaal chooses so. His body falls apart and leaves behind only the Stillmaker, his Netherstone, and a half-writen letter that's like Prayer of Forgiveness, but adressed to Gortash and one Durge never got to finish.

The idea is very rough but essentially I love the thought that Bhaal is the one who fucks it all up because he can't be patient for two minutes, and Gortash is still delusional enough for him to hope Durge can go back to normal. If you win and kill Durge, Gortash will be upset and surprised, but will kind of shut off the grief in the moment to focus on dominating the brain. If you would've lost, the canon ending would be that Durge pulls through with the stones, him and Gortash get the Brain under control, and then Durge almost immediately slaughters both of them, leaving Toril to the Brain's mercy.

Another bonus option in the dialogue would be to tell him that you killed Gortash, but if you lied or didn't have Gortash's head to prove it, he would just laugh at you. That option wouldnt be a good idea in any way, because if you wouldn't pass the deception check (DC20) or wouldn't have the head, the laugh would clear his mind enough for him to focus on the fight (not as a Slayer) and if he WOULD believe you, he'd get so angry that he would start a fight with an extra feature that would be an absolute bitch to deal with.

[biteghost]

Hello ghost I need your help I am starting commission and new to PayPal, someone ask me can I draw something for them. I said sure, they told me to send my paypal email. So them my scan code so they can send the money but, that not it because they told me again send them my paypal email so I went to my profile and found a link to my account and send it but that not it either. They ask again send my email and I don't know what to do.

Hi there! Sorry you seem to be having issues with your commissioner. I'll try to help if I can!

I have a (very detailed) post I've made before with regards to using PayPal as a third party to manage money between clients and your bank, so definitely check that out in case there are any tips there that could help you during your Freelance Artist journey!

So, when you sign up and create an account with PayPal, you must give the site an email address and a phone number that you have access to and control over. These two things are security measures that allow you to authenticate your account. The email that you use to sign in to the PayPal website is your PayPal email. Whatever you use to sign in, send them that email. What they are looking for should look like <yourcoolemailusername@example.com>.

The reason they need this email is because PayPal accounts can send money directly to another account - or request funds from another user - using the email of that user. Sometimes commissioners like to send money for the goods and services they're purchasing (in this case, Art) directly to the artist. However, I would highly recommend using PayPal's invoice system in order to protect yourself from potential scams. There is a step-by-step instruction for how to set up and use Invoices in the post that I linked to at the top of this ask.

Back to your issues: if you're alright with letting this client send you money directly to your PayPal account without the protections of an Invoice, send them the email address that you use to log in to PayPal.

If you already have sent them that email and they still insist that they need something else from you, I would recommend sending them an Invoice for the commission and request they compensate you that way.

If they refuse to send the quoted amount to the email you provide AND they refuse to pay via Invoice, I recommend telling them to get lost, LOL. You're the artist and your time is valuable. Just because you're new to using PayPal doesn't give your clients the right to boss you around or bully you into running your business the way they think you should.

Hope this helps! Good luck!

[freezerbnuuy]

Act 4:3 - The Maze of Existence (Page 5)

LORE | CHARACTERS | ABOUT / CHAPTERS / WARNINGS

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Reynold

Is that really Whisper's ghost, or is my mind still frayed from overcharge? Is this a hallucination? I've never seen a ghost in my life. I always thought that every creature joined the Watcher after death. Do animals not?

She climbs up onto the desk, as she always did. She didn't like me writing with the Watcher- as far as she was concerned, she was the goddess around these parts. She started off as a mouser, though I loved her so much that I spoiled her into nothing but a communal housecat. I started to think people came to the church to see the cat rather than listen to the sermons- not that I blamed them.

I run my hand through her body, and she hisses at me. There's a strange sensation to her- a kind of chill, like putting your hand outside into the winter wind. She gives me the same excited meow she always used to give me, laced with some concern. 

She runs into the old refuge room, and I find her relaxing on the end of the sofa, tapping at the cushions with her paw. I'm doing everything that I can to offset the burning anger in my mind from Lunvin's influence. Maybe some time with the cat might help offset it a little more. 

I'm still on-edge about this- if I can feel it, then it certainly isn't an illusion of a fractured mind trying to mend itself after overcharge. As far as I'm aware, every soul goes to the Watcher to look down upon and guide their loved ones. I never did believe that the world beyond the veil even existed like most witches do. So many questions, and no idea where to start looking for answers.

Whisper lies against my chest, her tail curling and unfurling on my arm, and her chin resting on my chest. I can't feel her, but I try to touch her as if I'm holding her. She screeches when I accidentally put my hand right through her 'body', but relaxes once I pet the back of her neck like I used to. I try to drown out my thoughts, difficult as it may be at this time.

Her body turns a bright green colour, and the eerie echoes of her ghostly purrs send a shiver through me. I don't know how to feel- warm? Glad? Shocked? Terrified? How exactly do ghosts work? When do they leave to the other side of the veil? Is the veil thinner now for some reason? It's nowhere near any of the celebrative days for magic-folk...

Why did Whisper, of all ghosts, decide to show herself to me? Why now? Is this her intent? Can ghosts control who can see them and when? Has she always been here? Is Mother Joyce here, or is she with the Watcher? Could a cat really love someone enough to surpass the veil just to have a cuddle again?

I think back to what Lunvin said during my time 'lost between veils', though I now question if that was just a strange, almost comatose dream, and that it might have not been Lunvin at all. It seems far too coincidental, in hindsight, that She looked so close to what She looked like in old drawings.

I thought that Lunvin had spared me from death when She said it was not my time. Perhaps such a thing is outside of her control- surely something as ominous as life and death is out of the control of anything and anyone except fate itself. Maybe I had almost died, yet survived against all odds. The image of how I picture Lunvin appeared to me, in all my mind's shattered emotions, to comfort me and ground me. The brain has peculiar ways of ensuring its survival, after all.

Maybe...maybe it's more complex than either, I think to myself, as the long-dead ghost of my old mouser cat kneads against my chest.

The only chance I have of getting answers is from either of two people- one a woman of the metaphysical, the other a man of (mostly) science. My old friend Katlego, for one- she was everyone's go-to for all things spiritual, and often dealt with some level of communication with the dead- at least, that's what she told her customers. 

I didn't want to deal with Samuel, not in the slightest- but Owen and I know each other from his monthly donations to the monastery, and he seems a lot more grounded than his father is, at least from what Eli tells me about him. I could use some of that money, and write a letter to him to try and book an appointment with him.

No-one really knows much about the mind, even still. How can we, when it's never anything that comes up in conversation? Peterans have tried time and time again to study it, but I don't know how much any of those old books would still hold up. Surely such a renowned physician might know something- or, at least, someone. 

It feels as if my skull is about to crack open. With this revelation, I gladly welcome my transformation into the evening. I would gladly rather think about nothing other than survival, running through the forests of the night and preying on those who try to do harm to the good people of Henford.

[ageless-aislynn]

Continuing my Mass Effect Adventure!

Ah-hah, can't flirt with your squadmates if they're not flirtable, right?

I mean, I know Kaidan is eventually flirtable by Male!Shep but not in ME 1. Considering Shep and I just ended up telling Ashley we wanted to see her in a tiny, shiny silver skirt when that was NOT what I was trying to say... I figured it was safest to send her home, lol! 👀��

I hated to have Kaidan off the squad for now but I felt like I needed both Wrex and Garrus so... 🤷‍♀️

Though it is TOTALLY embarrassing how often I'm lost and they just have to trail behind me while I'm looking in closets, trying to figure out where to go, lol.

Hopefully I'll get better at things. It took me a while to warm up to Andromeda and not play like a numpty all the time, so my fingers are crossed that I'll get there sooner rather than later. My 600+ hours in Andromeda have been helpful in that I can often draw parallels between how things work from that to ME proper. I love it when I find something that feels familiar!

Also, I already love Wrex and I just met him. Krogans, man, I love 'em!

♥Drack♥

I still have a bad habit of throwing grenades when I don't mean to and I'm realizing that you apparently can't use a biotic power on controller without opening the power wheel and picking it out of there? Which then seems to mean if I'm not already perfectly lined up to where I want it to go, it sails off harmlessly; 😖got to figure out a better way for that to work!

Also feeling like maybe I should've went with Infiltrator since that comes with sniper perks. However, Vanguard!me has picked up a sniper at some point and I can do business with it. But my loadout continually reverts to what I think is a shotgun and assault rifle when I'd rather keep the pistol and sniper. Oh well, they're all still there so I just have to pause things to swap 'em around, no big deal. 😉

Main thing is that I'm lost but I'm having fun! I'm sure there's a lot I'm doing wrong in regards to which mission to take (I'm following the advice I've seen a couple of times to do smaller side missions before the bigger, main story ones) and the like but unless I rigorously follow a guide, I'm bound to make mistakes. 🤷‍♀️

Anyway, back to it! Wish me luck, frens! 💖

[sunshinebingo]

Writing tag game by @bonecarversbestie Thank you @sadiegirl2021 @aldbooks @hlizr50 for tagging me 🤭

Describe your writing process from idea to posting/publishing?

My ideas can come from anywhere and everywhere. Sometimes it strikes me like lighting. Or sometimes I draw inspiration from literally anything... A conversation, song, a single word, an outfit, a colour, font, texture, a feeling, picture, a quote... Literally anything at all

One of my favourite part is the drafting. Mine can quickly escalade to something out of my control as new things come up as I'm writing one thing. It gets messy very quickly. There's a table that I love to do for some of my fics where I note down some silly things about my stories like what it tastes like, smells like, feels like etc. It helps me set the mood whenever I go to write the fic and it's really fun to do.

When I have big drafts, the writing is like assembling a giant puzzle with scattered pieces, some might get lost under the table. It can be anywhere between frustrating and fun. For the fics with drafts that aren't elaborate I just go with the flow and see where the story takes me.

I edit while I write. Mostly when I get stuck in the story or when I need a break.

When the chapter is complete, I like to go through the whole thing and "add some flavour". It's just sprinkling a few little things here and there that sometimes aren't really significant but which just add that little something. Like an adjective, or a small action like a smile or a glance, etc etc

Then it's editing again. Then sending to the beta readers sometimes. Then edit again based on their feedback. Then I struggle (in bold because damn it's hard) to pick a title.

Then it's making the moodboard or title card. I love this step too even though not all them turn out great. I like listening to music while doing this and play around with the pictures and colours, effects, fonts etc.

And then it's struggling again to come up with a synopsis/summary.

Then it's panic while I post because I'm always scared that people will find my stories and my writing terrible.

Are you a plotter or a pantser?

Both. Some of my drafts are really thorough with full conversations, detailed descriptions, the mannerisms of the characters etc. It's like you only need to add a few connecting lines and boom you've got the complete story.

But also, sometimes I just go with the flow. In fact most of the time I let myself be guided by the characters and just write whatever they are up to. I am often surprised by the things that happen in my fics.

The fact that the characters guide me sometimes happen while I'm drafting. Or other times when I am actually seriously writing it. Because of that, there are times when I finish writing and realise that "oh I forgot I actually had a plan. Well now it changed 🤷"

What do you listen to when you are writing?

Anything that helps get me in the mood of the story I'm working on. Could be songs, ambient music, movie scores, instrumentals, classical music...

What’s your drink of choice (while writing)?

Again, anything. I write at any hour of the day or night, whether in public or when I'm by myself. So water, coffee, beer, whatever

Promote yourself! What’s your favourite thing you’ve written?

Even Lovers Drown - The story of siren Gwyn who meets shadowsinger Azriel.

I learned a lot about my writing with this one. Notably that I love writing some bloody stuff.

I haven't updated this fic in a while because I've lost my confidence about it at some point and I'm finding it hard to continue it. But it still means a lot to me and I will finish it.

Another favourite of mine is one I haven't posted yet. It's a Gwynriel Sinner/Saint fic that I hope I'll be able to post for Halloween. There's just something about writing this one that I find different from what I have done so far. I'm crossing my fingers hard 🤞 that I'll be able to complete it and that people will like it

Share a fic of yours that you think is underrated/deserves more love.

I'll repeat myself and again say Even Lovers Drown. I just love it. There's fluff, smut, some blood, some action, some cliffhangers. The settings include Summer, Night, some mentions of Autumn and a place that's not canon. It happens on land, in a lake, in the sea. The IC is there too.

Do you have any advice for new writers?

New writers are probably tired of hearing this but I have to. JUST DO IT!

Confidence is built with time and practice. I speak as a fanfic writer here, write for you first. Write whatever you want. Enjoy the process of writing - the daydreaming, the drafting, the research, creating a Pinterest board, making a pretty post etc etc.

Also, surround yourself with people with shared interest. I know it's hard for some me included trust me, but do not hesitate to reach out to other writers. You can ask for advice, ask for a beta reader, just to say "hi I write too" or anything else. We all have things to learn from and about each other and it's always nice to have people to share that experience with.

What is a writing style/technique that others do really well that you'd like to get better at?

Smut. I really struggle with writing it. I think I overthink mine too much. Sometimes I can't help but compare my writing and my stories to others which then lead me to be too harsh with myself.

Is there a character you were surprised you enjoyed writing as much as you did?

Eris Vanserra. I've never written in his pov but I love him and I love including him in my fics whenever I can. I love writing others opinion of him

Tagging (no pressure): @moonlightazriel @fieldofdaisiies @thelov3lybookworm @starfall-spirit

[psychocharlie]

Dennis meets Charlie’s pets

One day Charlie doesn't show up at the bar for a long time, even Frank says he didn't come home to sleep. Dennis sends him urgent 911 messages, but Charlie doesn't answer, his phone is unavailable despite their agreement to always pick up the phone after receiving 911 emergency messages from each other. And Dennis starts to worry: there's no telling what could have gone wrong, he could have been caught and arrested, something could have gone wrong, and his own victim could have killed him. Dennis was on the edge.

Mac tells him about Charlie's bad place and Dennis goes into the fucking vent for him. The Golden God in all his glory climbs into the stuffy, stinking vent for Charlie; if someone had told him that before, he would've laughed in their face. But he goes in there despite Mac's best efforts to talk him out of it, because no one knows what Charlie really does in his bad place and going there when Charlie clearly didn't want to be found could be tantamount to suicide.

Dennis rips his favorite shirt, scratches his cheek, curses and almost gets lost in the narrow, dark passages of the ventilation system. Nevertheless, he finally finds Charlie's bad place, adorned with a threatening, poorly written message on the wall and a skull drawing for clarity.

He finds Charlie there, completely shattered and stoned, sitting among the shards. His friend is sitting with his back to him, unaware of Dennis' presence, whimpering and mumbling something in a whiny voice. He’s twirling something in his hands, holding it up to his face. Upon closer inspection, Reynolds realized that it was a severed human hand, glistening with moisture.

– JESUS CHRIST! – Dennis couldn’t hold back and cried out, shocked by the sight. Charlie jumped in fright, reflexively throwing the hand at Dennis, who yelped in a less than courageous manner.

– Damn it, Dennis! Why the hell did you sneak up like that?! I almost shit myself! Goddamn. But I'm glad it's just you, not someone else. Holy shit. What are you doing here?

– You've been gone for two days. You didn’t pick up your phone, not even 911 emergency. I thought the cops had you. Or worse, you were killed. And what the fuck is this shit? – Still recovering from the shock, Dennis pointed at the severed hand that had flown straight into his face just a minute ago.

Charlie squirms, wiping his teary and sticky eyes and stutters.

 – Um… it's like… my pets. I come here and play with them when I feel sick…

– Your what?… – Dennis rubs his nose, trying to hide his disgust. Then he looks at Charlie carefully and his voice softening. 

– What's happened, buddy? Why are you here?

Charlie sniffles again, hiding his face in his  hands and sits down on a dirty floor strewn with broken glass. He shakes his head vigorously, not wanting to tell, but Dennis approaches him from behind and gently massages his shoulders, trying to calm him down. Dennis knew Charlie very well, and physical contact was the thing that really helped him during these breakdowns and stress.

Eventually, Charlie begins to talk.

– I've been thinking, Dennis. I've been thinking a lot. My thoughts are racing. The hum of voices, the screams of my victims. It's all mixed up. It haunts me every fucking second. Even in my sleep. I can't sleep, Dennis, I just can’t. I can't sleep after… – Charlie hesistates and doesn't finish the sentence. He's afraid fall asleep after the dream in which he ate Dennis. That's what scares him the most. Charlie doesn't know what to expect from himself when it comes to anger outbursts, and that stupid dream revealed his darkest deepest fears. He's afraid of losing Dennis. He's afraid of hurting his loved ones. He's scared that one day he’ll lose control completely and become a real monster. Charlie rubs his weeping eyes and shudders when his friend's hand gently squeezes his shoulder. His shoulders slump. – Even glue and cat food aren’t working anymore. This can't go on any longer. I'm a horrible person, a total psycho, I want...I want to stop this. I'm so tired of it, Dennis. I'm insane, aren't I? Tell me, am I a total psycho? 

Dennis's heart, which he thinks of as a heart of ice, sinks when he hears all this words, and he sits down next to Charlie and hugs him tightly, stroking his back and just whispering – Shh, shh, shh, buddy, you're okay. It's alright, Char.

Except Dennis knows he's not okay at all. And Charlie knows it. And what they both also know is that Charlie won’t stop, no matter how much guilt he feels. 

Nevertheless, Dennis, almost without disgust, takes Charlie's "pet" – a severed hand – puts it in a jar filled with medical alcohol and places it on the floor, where three others stand. He wonders if these are all victims he had or if he has only made the hands of four of them his "pets." But he does not voice his question, not wanting to worsen his friend's condition. Besides, intuitively he knows the answer: Charlie has many more victims than just four. He tucks the hand back into the jar where it was kept until Charlie took it out, and then sits with him in the debris for a few hours, just holding him in his hands and cradling him. Dennis hopes he'll get better, as he has no idea how to cheer him up in this circumstances.

Eventually Charlie, tired of shaking and crying, just falls asleep in his arms, and Dennis sits there with him until morning, exhausted by his heavy thoughts. At times his hands automatically stroke the Charlie's chest, pulling him closer. The filthy vent, the broken glass, and the jars with severed hands inside, standing here and there, aren’t obviously the best place to sleep, but he can't leave Charlie alone. So Dennis sighs heavily and closes his eyes too. 

[joompheart]

Theodore! Glad to finally get a whole separate character down as one of these sheets. I've got to do an epilogue alternate for her and then 3-4 more one off sheets. Then I'll have got all my OC's out with definitive visual references!

Way way way too much description below the cut. Actually about twice as much as I did for Andrew because Theodore is probably the second most defined character for me. Plus I wrote a lot about magic but still didn't just write out the explicit rules of the magic system so I explained more than I should've needed to. WHoops.

-Age range: 25-34

-Physical Attributes: In contrast to my other characters who are by and large hyper lean skeleton skin and muscle freaks, Teddy is rounded out and full-bodied. This is pretty much my first go at a reasonable human body, so I think she still looks a tad lean in my drawing compared to how full she should be. Ted is the tallest of my characters at 6'2” or more depending on the heights of other characters I decide on later (specifically Vaughn). She is naturally a little taller than every other main character in the room, or at least a perfect match for the other tallest character (Vaughn). She is also able to at least match the other strongest character in natural (not significantly magically enhanced) physical strength (still Vaughn lol). Despite this, Theodore is not as muscular or bulky as Vaughn. Theodore is supposed to be conventionally sexy, especially when compared to my other characters.(I actually asked my bodybuilder friend to send me instagram fitchicks for references :p). Dark brown hair, but not as dark as Andrew's near black (if not actually black) hair. Basically straight and pretty long, reaching the middle of her back at least. The left side of Teddy's chest is scarred and ruined and she lost her left arm shoulder and all. See “Heart Lock.” Theodore has perfect physical control. See “Personality.” Ted has darker skin, brown to contrast with her blue clothes and magic the same way I pose Vezok with Avak.

-Magic Specialty: Theodore is a prodigious magic user and the most powerful of my characters multiple times over. She is the most knowledgeable on the subject to the degree that she might be the preeminent magic user in the entire galaxy. (The scope of my story is limited to one solar system though, so we don't confirm this or actually care about confirming this). Theodore is able to adapt to any field of magic and quickly preform at very high levels. Theodore is rich with magic fuel (magic can't be done in a vacuum, you have to “pay” for every spell), again multiple times more wealthy than any of my other characters. Her true specialty is in taking advantage of the quirks of the magic system to prepare incredibly powerful spells with multiple potential applications. These spells are so “lavish” that they are prohibitively expensive for any other character and even would be for Ted too if not for her clever spellcrafting.

-Example Spell: Theodore has the closest thing to “true” teleportation – she can cast a spell that demarcates a huge space, say a planet or a space encompassing several planets, into however many 2-3 inch cubes. Then each cube is exchanged for each other cube at incomprehensible speed until the spell is canceled at which point the cubes stop and stay where the ended up. Theodore will cast this spell and stop it at just the right time so that everything is where it started except for the things she wants to move. (I'm definitely going to change up the specifics of this spell so it's less stupid later, but I stand by the idea as cool and a good example of the kind of thing Theodore does). This is obviously impossible to control manually, so Theodore makes and uses magically enhanced machines and artifacts to help with specific parts of spells, such as when to stop casting her teleportation spell so everything is where she wants it to be. Most of Theodore's spells can be understood as follows: An expensive “desired effect” (near instantaneous transport) over an expensive “desired area” (a planet) that is then made deliberately obtuse and unwieldy to reduce the price of these effects from unfathomable to merely very expensive (the whole cubes switching around business), and finally made manageable again with personally hand crafted and ready precision magic tools.

-Heart Lock: Relatively early in Ted's magic exploration she supercharged her heart to amplify any magic to near-perfect efficiency. At this time she wasn't as experienced so she made miscalculations and the process exceeded the safeguards she was using. Her heart now works as desired, but Theodore wears a “heart lock” over it to seal off the excess power (Theodore is pictured wearing said heart lock above). When the lock is removed/ her heart in unsealed she gains access to it's full power but also bears the brunt of that power. Exposure quickly destroys the rest of her body, as seen in how earlier uses completely removed her left arm and have left much of her chest a craggy scarred ruin. Continued exposure would completely destroy Theodore's body in 30-60 minutes, carving canyons into her body with rivers of electric starfire. Theodore isn't really dissatisfied with this situation though, as it would require a truly titanic obstacle to warrant more than 30-60 SECONDS of use. Think of it like a devil trigger you want to stop using as quickly as possible. Nero's disembodied blue hands are right on the money.

-Clothing: Aside from her heart lock, Theodore doesn't wear much. I figure true luxury is not needing to cover yourself for any reason. Theodore doesn't wear armor or footwear of any kind. Theodore does not typically cover her remaining HUGE MILKY BREAST, though she will if she wants. It's even uncommon to find her wearing a super skimpy miniskirt like she is in the above picture, maybe half of the time. Those are because I wanted her to wear at least something because fashion is fun, and I thought it would be silly to have her fight with her gravid boob and flaccid dick flopping around everywhere. Never tucks, never even wears underwear. None of my characters are liable to tuck but Teddy especially never tucks.

-Partial Biography: Left largely unknown the the audience. The heart lock/ arm loss debacle is about as much as we'd get for insight on her character before the events of the story. I figure Theodore doesn't need a special explanation for her presence or power. She's been around more than most of the other characters and she's good at whatever she does. She built a semi-secret estate inside a planet in the solar system with an ocean comprising roughly half it's mass. Inverted gravity on the estate so when you enter you walk on the underside of the crust and look “up” to see a massive glass-like dome bracing the rest of the earth and water. With enough visibility you could theoretically see out to the other side of the planet through the water. Theodore's goal for the duration of the story is to explore “the next frontier” of magical understanding and study the source of magic in the galaxy. She ultimately succeeds in the finale of the story, and we see some of her continued adventures in the epilogue.

-Personality: Teddy is suicidal. With her power she could extend her life indefinitely, but she would end even her natural lifespan prematurely. Theodore is aware of her exceptional prowess and wants to use it for something that's “worth it,” in this case studying the source of magic in the galaxy, before she can't stop from killing herself. Otherwise, she's very put together. Theodore has supreme mental fortitude, focus and stability. By extension, Ted has perfect physical control, as in perfect balance, perfect form with any motion, optimal muscle activation, can sleep or wake up on a dime, etc. etc. The example I always think of is a spell she might use in a fight that inverts all neural impulses in a certain field – so if you tried to lift your leg you would actually extend it, etc. etc. In that scenario where it would be almost impossible to keep yourself from immediately crumpling on the floor, Theodore will move as confidently and gracefully as she would in any other setting. Though that would also be because she would have practiced moving like that at least a little on her own time because she would know that she might use that spell. In benign human interaction, Theodore is most similar to Penelope, or maybe it would be better to put it as Penelope is most similar to Theodore. They are aligned in worldview and goals and even even personal tastes for most of the story, Penelope working for Theodore similar to how Darth Vader works for Darth Sideous. But Penelope doesn't hate Ted, and the two could be considered friends for a significant part of the story. Like Penelope, probably even more so actually, Theodore can be cold and completely ruthless. Both of them are liable to acknowledge other people's qualms or objections and then without hesitation commit a morally irredeemable act anyway. These tendencies and their power make them the “villains” of most of the story.

-Associated NiN songs: “The Big Come Down,” “Disappointed,” “Black Noise,” “A Warm Place”

[radellama]

Do you outline your plots? If yes, what does an outline look like?

Do you outline your plots? If yes, what does an outline look like?

Ooh boy do I ever. This is something that I've struggled with for YEARS and it's taken a lot of self reflection, refinement and a bachelor's degree to figure out how I work. To quote one of my greatest creative influences:

"I think I realized very early on that you can spend a lot of time constructing a really perfect scene in final draft and just end up throwing it away because you didn't figure out that mathematics of the story first."

- Brit Marling

In general, I tend to get carried away with my ideas and craft stories that quickly become more grand and elaborate the more I work on them. I love layers and thoughtful execution of characters and plot, so I want to pass that on to my readers, too. But, when my ideas become so dense, it's hard to keep up and make sure that all my details fall into place and that I'm not fucking myself over. As I'm a more visual thinker, I've found it most helpful with my largest stories to just write out the important moments for plot and characters that I absolutely MUST have in the story, and then pair them in little groups that work well together. Then, when I've got enough food a nice and weighty chapter/section, I start ordering those groups into the greater narrative and seeing what order will best suit the flow of the story. This stage, when ordering clusters of plot and character moments, is often where I'm able to let that gut instinct take over and do what feels right - I've worked hard at analysing and creating stories for so long that I trust myself with what feels right, and arrange it like a puzzle. Then, when there's an order that makes sense to me, I can fill in the gaps and ensure things flow nicely and that the parts that are important to me are given room to breathe. This helps me in multiple ways, because not only do I have a conspiracy board that clearly outlines the plot, but I also have a checklist per chapter/section of things I need to hit. Visually seeing the plot points in front of me helps immensely, and I'll often draw concept art or make calendars/timelines to help me as well. I've found that when I've set up enough stuff that I'm confident in knowing what the goal is for that section of writing, I won't get as lost or distracted or overwhelmed by the greater narrative. And while I love the visual on the paper, and usually stick them up on my wall as encouragement/reminders, I'll usually type up everything into a document so that it's easier for me to find particular things quickly with control+f. And even then, I'm often adding comments and notes to myself for things to research or focus on when writing haha.

It's just really important to me to get all the details I want into the work, as I hate reading it back after it's too late and realising I forgot a part that was super important to me in the early concept!! Or to read it over and realise there's a fucking plot hole or massive oversight that irks me to no end!! I don't do EVERYTHING in as dramatic a detail as this, smaller scopes don't need as much planning when I know what I'm doing, but the general concept of breaking things down and giving myself a clear guide in smaller chunks is what helps keep me on track and avoid executive dysfunction issues, and piecing together a story like a puzzle is super fun for me.

Send me some writing asks

[peachi-bug]

ROSE MOON: HISTORY, INSPO, AND THOUGHTS.

RoseMoon has been a gigantic part of my life and art journey. It's my personal project, and with the help of my friends I've been able to further advance the story. But RoseMoon has grown up with me, and I doubt it will stop anytime soon.

But all that mushy gushy stuff aside I want to go through some of the ways RoseMoon has grown, not only artistically, but lore, length, character and world building, all that good stuff!

It went through a lot of phases, but here's the highlights!

RoseMoon first started with me around 10 years at the time making a silly little cat oc. Her name was Star, a warriors cat with blue fur red eyes and big fluffy wings.

I was weird as a kid...

Star quickly became a human and I NEVER stopped drawing her, I gave her friends, siblings, a partner and some issues.

Up until year 7 when I discovered the lovely realm of MYCTS. Ranboo, Turbo, Tommy, Dream, Snapnap, I was OBSESSED. My art had moved from digital to traditional, and granted, it still kinda sucked.

Fanart helped me improve a lot.

Just before year 8 I discovered The Owl House and made more OCS with inspiration from the cast.

Thus, Sasha, Melody, Grey, Aspen, Dreki, Valarie were born. At this time Star had grown into a full kickass demon assassin. Then I made her a guy. And that was Mio (then Ronnin) My oldest oc by far!

I moved halfway through year 8

It was a lot for me, but I dove headfirst into making the first chapters of RoseMoon, then called Serenity. It was a huge comfort for me.

Serenity was about a shape shifting assassin named Ronnin traveling through universes. He got stuck in the demon universe and got taken in by a demon Valarie and a little dragon named Dreki.

Ronnin made friends with an energetic boy named Greyson and a Kind yet scary girl named Melody, and made enemies with a prince Aspen and his demi-god friend Alistair. Ronnins main goal was to get back to his human friend, Sasha.

Then I found ROTTMNT, which heavily influenced my style and the world of my OCS. It was much similar to RiseTMNT but different.

No mutants or Yokai,just demons and humans living separated from each other in an underground and above ground city, both much like Boston and New York mashed together.

Sasha reappeared as Quinn.

After the suggestion of my friend I made Melody, Mio, Grey, and Dreki adopted siblings and Quinn their honorary sister, I later just changed that to their adopted sister.

Aspen was now the Apprentice of a god in the form of a wolf named Plush.

Then one day in school I was bored, my art had steadily improved the past years so I designed a new OC

Cal.

At first his father was just a mean old man who kicked him out to live with his sister and niece, Sam and Lily and he stayed like that for a while.

After creating Cal I overhauled the entire story, keeping most characters relationships the same but further expanding on the Gods, the world around them, their lore, I did a lot of world building in this time. This was partially fueled by a trip to Arizona which inspired me a bit.

I decided I wanted the minor antagonists to still be Aspen and Plush, now aided by an Anxious snake named Adelia and a prissy and arrogant Kitsune named Zeph. But the major antagonist was Cals father. A cult leader who was possessed by an evil thing, and he wasn't the first.

The cult dated back to before Plush became a god and lost everything. For Almost 50,000 years this thing was trying to become the one and only god, to take power and control of everything, for no reason. And the Gods are powerless to stop his influence no matter how hard they try. So the death goddess sends Plush to control the situation until they can find a permanent situation to the thing. Few things remain consistent, the topic of Gods, Family, Faith, and Assassins.

And that's where RoseMoon stands now.

Melody, Quinn, Mio, Grey, Dreki, Aspen, and Plush have all grown with me so much. But there is still a lot of work to be done.

As for now...

I'm very happy to announce that I've officially started working on the first few chapters of RoseMoon! I'm very excited to be finally writing all my characters after years of development!

RoseMoon begins, so look out for little teasers (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

[5eraphim]

Just read you DBD killers x Altruistic Reader (it was amazing, btw) and am now wondering if you could Deathslinger and or Wraith and Doctor too for it?

Aww, thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this installment as well, and thank you so much for the request, I really appreciate it :)

Part 1 (Not required reading, but if you wanted to read more)

Rating: PG

Characters: Doctor, Wraith and Deathslinger

Word Count: 1.5k

Requests are currently open <3

The Doctor

Oh, this is gonna be good.

The Doctor is more knowledgeable than other killers and quickly picks up. You weren't unskilled or stupid given his eerily accurate ability to read and analyze people he'd maintained in the entitie's realm.

Furthermore, Herman was genuinely fascinated with you. His mind constantly tries to find new stimulation to fuel new experiments. And never before had he seen a survivor so dedicated to altruism as you were. Considerable given how long he'd served the entity in this realm.

From this point on, he would ensure you were in a near-constant state of madness. Constantly plaguing you with visions and auditory hallucinations, an agony where you were never sure you could trust your own mind. Herman wanted to observe and see if he could break you with this alone. If just a little spark of madness were enough to snuff out your altruism and lead you to behave as selfishly as the rest of your team. For some time, he was proven, unfortunately, correct.

In this state, you were blinded to the fact you were running past injured survivors you could've easily stopped by to heal. Racing in a blind panic from visions of the Doctor when he wasn't there and wasting your time cowering in fear while the rest of your team was forced to try and win the match without you. All the while, Herman felt a sick sense of pride, knowing he'd broken someone who once was so staunchly altruistic.

It was terrifying for you. Unable to ignore your team members' glares and cold shoulders after losing the match because of your inability to control your madness. The humiliation stung, though deep down, it was getting other people hurt that really got to you.

In the subsequent trial you fought against Herman, you spent what felt like ages mentally preparing yourself to fight the madness and swore you wouldn't let him break you so quickly as he had before. But, ultimately, you realized no madness could compare to the hatred you felt for him.

Eventually, you got your wish and found yourself facing off against the monster in question, hearing his skin-crawling giggle as he no doubt instantly had his eye on you. Though this time, you refused to let him have the upper hand. Staring him down, daring him to make the first move and prove you weren't so easily intimidated. You waited, expecting him to use his power or to start charging forward. You didn't expect to hear him taunting you, slowly drawing nearer with a composer you'd never seen from him before.

"What a privilege it is to possess such loyal prey."

You grit your teeth, forcing yourself to hold your ground and not flee like before. You continued to stare him down from your position. Internally you were waiting to sprint off the moment he charged at you for real. Internally you reasoned with yourself it was wise to keep him here as long as possible to buy your team more time. But his words caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but wonder what he meant by this.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were upset it'd been so long since we'd seen each other."

His words sent a chill down your spine. There was an off-putting edge to his words you'd never seen before. Enough to send you sprinting away, swearing to prove yourself to the rest of the team this match. You did your best to ignore the way you could've sworn you could still hear his voice in the back of your mind as you sprinted away.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder. I've so missed breaking you with my madness. It looks like we need to compensate for the lost time then, doesn't it?"

The Wraith

This truly hurt him to watch.

The only way he'd managed to endure his sadistic role in this realm inflicting pain upon the innocent was to let himself believe everyone here was evil. To convince himself, this was a place of misery for miserable people. The idea he was only doing what he was told, and if the survivors were in his position, they would do the same. It was simply the way things were. 

But when he watched you never failing to stop and heal a teammate in need, the way you were so unafraid to take a hit for another despite the danger it meant for you awoken something within himself that lay dormant for a long time. 

The Wraith wasn't afraid to take his suffering, this inner turmoil, out on you. How dare you remain so gentle and hopeful in a world which broke so many. He projected much of his guilt of becoming complacent in the suffering of others onto you, and every act of altruism he observed from you only spurred him on. Not allowing himself to think about the blatant denial he used to cope. 

When he finally discovered how your team didn't work nearly as hard to save you, he realized how much he resonated with you.

He desperately felt he needed to communicate with you. He could ignore the obsession no longer. But, as much as he wanted to hate you or see you as everything he couldn't be, he knew it was all a lie. 

After a fierce trial between you and him, he decided it was time to make his move. You were in such a panic watching your team fall one by one as you just couldn't seem to work fast enough. You failed to realize how you were being carefully monitored by the killer. Phillip moved as silently as a shadow behind you, not even needing to cloak himself as your fear fueled you, blinding you to the danger at hand.

Typically, when you saw the hatch spawn and knew the game was nearly over, you were always so relieved, but not this time. Instead, all you could focus on was the guilt you felt not being able to save anyone, hardly managing to preserve yourself against the killer you feared the most. 

You could hear Phillip's bell chime close behind, your stomach sinking as you realized you were almost certainly about to die. Sure enough, after you ran close enough to nearly touch the hatch, you felt a hard blow between your shoulder blades. Knocking you down with the sheer force of the attack.  

You waited for the mori that never struck. Instead, you heard a voice whispering in your ear,

"You want an easy way out. I can tell you want to keep your morality intact, but this is no way to do it. So please, don't end up like me."

And with that, the monster seemingly vanished altogether, as you were left alone, trying to force yourself to crawl forward despite how your head spun, unable to forget his words. You may not understand what he meant by this, but for a moment, you couldn't help but feel more compassion than fear for the monster.

The Death Slinger

When Caleb wised up to the way you were acting so recklessly with your own life, he was furious. He was forced to grow up tough in life and knew altruism like this would kill you. Though Caleb didn't want to admit it to himself, he also resented watching you save others, knowing he never had the luxury of someone doing the same for him when he was alive.

His tip-off about your intentions was watching you work on the generators. He may not have the best "people smarts," but he was an engineer in life, and he can tell a lot about someone by listening to them work on mechanics. Your competency quickly disproved his initial read of you as unskilled. In other words, you weren't going down so fast because you were just easy prey. You knew how to save yourself. There was just something else going on here entirely.

Despite all this, he cannot help but feel sympathy for you. Nothing upsets him like treachery, and the way no one else seemed to care whether you lived or died really affected him.

Caleb needed no additional reason to hate the survivors. But when he watched you limping post-trial around the fire with the others. It didn't matter to him how survivors were always restored to perfect health before every trial. That didn't change the fact it should be them in pain, not you!

Despite his obsession, you were hardly aware the cowboy was so obsessed with stalking you. After all, he was just the type to leave personal matters outside of trials, and from your point of view, the killer was just as ruthless and cruel to you as he was to anyone else. Though you couldn't shake the way, you could swear you saw his ghostly phantom-like eyes following you well after the match. 

You were seriously taken off guard when you were pulled right behind him with the awful grip of his bayonet. Caleb leaning down to whisper in your ear,

"If you want to dig your grave to protect these snakes, you call a team. I won't stop you. But don't be surprised when you find a knife in your back that doesn't belong to a killer."