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epithet-beloved · 7 months

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Could we get some parental Percy and Ramsey? If not that’s fine

PARENTAL PERCY + RAMSEY HEADCANONS

synopsis… Percy and Ramsey as your parents

ft. Percival “Percy” King, Ramsey Murdoch, Howie Honeyglow (mentioned), Meryl Lockhart (mentioned), Sergeant Eros (mentioned)

tags… parental imagine, Percy and Ramsey’s relationship is unspecified, goofy family shenanigans, some anime campaign references but no spoilers, relationship study

word count… 702

a/n… I FINALLY GOT MY WRITING SPOONS BACK BAYBEYYYYYY. Apologies for the long hiatus, but I hope you all enjoy these imagines! ✧ 🦄

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Even if Ramsey is your actual father, he still gets treated at least a little bit like a weird uncle that the rest of the family doesn’t want you associating with.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Despite some general banter, Percy trusts Ramsey with your care quite a lot after he helped her in Redwood Run, and is always fair and never presumptuous. She has quite a few ground rules, some of them a bit odd, but never unfair.

“Uhhh….Percy?” Ramsey’s confusion was met by the policewoman’s polite smile.

“Yes? Is there something you’d like to ask me about the rules?”

A nod. “Just one thing.” Despite the fact that she couldn’t see what he was pointing to, the Australian pointed to one of the lines with his index finger. “I think ‘no crayons of debauchery’ is a bit unnecessary.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Your time between the two is divvied up almost perfectly evenly, as expected of Percy’s scheduling. Sometimes, Ramsey can even go somewhere with you as long as an officer (typically Percy) accompanies you.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 On occasion, you’ll also get ‘babysat’ by Meryl or Sergeant Eros when both your parents are unavailable. Meryl can be a bit…jumpy, but typically well meaning. And Eros will let you ride shotgun if he takes you to work with him (given that the work is appropriate and something you can tag along for).

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Ramsey makes drawings of your OCs and Percy hangs them on her fridge. It’s kind of comical to see your fursona or the like hung up in her otherwise rather plain kitchen, but it’s also a sweet reminder of how she’s invested in your interests.

“I must admit, I am curious.” You perked your head up at the sound of your mother’s voice, watching as she admired one of the papers hung up with a magnet on her fridge. When she was done examining the drawing like it was some sort of specimen, she’d stand up to her full height and look your way. “Why am I drawn as a beaver in this picture?”

“Oh,” you explained between bites of food, “I always thought if you were an animal, that’s what you’d be, because you make all kinds of buildings when you’re working.”

This answer seemed to leave her pleased, almost glowing in response to your perception of her. With a hand over her heart, she spoke in a calm voice. “Ah, the beaver. Truly an industrious creature. Nature’s architect, presiding over the flowing waters, arbiting their path….”

….Well, that probably meant she was happy about the fursona you came up for her.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 I wouldn’t call Percy overprotective per se, but she is very cautious. Like if you want to ride a bike, she’ll make sure you have a helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, shoulder pads….overall, just makes sure to take all possible safety measures in a situation. She’ll never stop you from doing something you want to do within reason, she’ll just make sure she’s there to keep an eye on you.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You’ve also likely met Howie once or twice because he’s a good friend (slash business rival) of Percy’s. He gave you a honeyed snack once. It tasted good, but the texture is…..questionable.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Despite Percy being classic lawful good, Ramsey can actually be the more reasonable one, aka having more common sense in a situation. Sometimes, parent-child bonding is just being surrounded by wackiness while both expressing complete and utter exasperation.

“Hey dad, do you know what is happening right now at all?” You loved your mother to death, but her idea of a ‘fun activity’ could often be rather strange. Like now, where she was currently trying to enforce road safety laws to the Mario Kart CPUs. While losing.

All the man could do was shake his head and crack a grin. “Eh, just roll with it, kiddo. You get used to it after a while.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 They both give headpats, but Percy’s are a sort of stiff “pat pat” while Ramsey’s is more of a noogie that messes up your hair. You don’t have the heart to say either one is better than the other, though.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 They’re both wonderful, really. Both a little weird, but that’s part of what makes your family so great.

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 request !#🦄's writings #epithet erased imagines #epithet erased #epithet erased x reader #ramsey murdoch imagines #Ramsey Murdoch #percival king #Percival king imagines #familial imagines

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green-typewriterz · 5 months

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hey there :) ! fun idea: cowboy/sheriff sam winchester in some southern town, maybe the reader could be a bandit and they repeatedly run into each other (maybe sam lets them get away at times, like it’s half rivalry half admiration) but there’s some creature around that forces them to work together ? fluffy end too bc I’m a sucker for riding into the sunset endings

Raise Hell

Cowboy!Sam Winchester x Bandit!Fem!reader

summary: 1800s AU - you’re a bandit, Sam’s what the Sheriff would call ‘a demon hunter’, they just happen to come by your camp

Warnings: injury, mentions of guns, demons, its the 1800s…so…, timeline may be weird, no specific season

Author Notes: this was much longer than I intended but enjoy. Also i know this is u H, i recognise your typing style

word count: 4046

You sighed as you walked past the third wanted poster with your face on it that morning, tearing it down while whispering a, “they never get my nose right.” To yourself. You continued on your journey, assuring yourself and your horse, Songbird, that there wasn’t that much longer to go.

After hours of travel, you set up camp a ways out of a town, staying in the shrouds of the shadows. You didn’t need any townsfolk spotting you and handing you in. You were sitting at the fire, eyes watching the skyline as the wood spit ash onto the floor by your feet, almost like a warning.

There would be a passerby every now and then, but no one important enough that you noted anything particular about them.

“Evening Ma’am.” A voice called, tone harsh and strong like the old folk singers. You looked up, but kept your hat low on your head, covering your face in the same deep blue of the sky.

Two men stood in front of you, broad shoulders and polite smiles. You knew who they were, of course you did. The Winchester name was well known across most of America, though you were never sure how much of it was legend. You decided not to take any chances. You nod to them silently, not sharing the same courtesy to smile back.

Sam spoke next, sounding a lot less irritated than his counterpart. “You wouldn’t mind if we rested with you for the evening would you? Our horses are tired and so are we.”

There was silence for a moment as you thought. You should say no - it was in your best interest to do so. But they hadn’t seemed to recognise you yet, and, with the bandanna you had quickly pulled over your mouth, they shouldn’t for the rest of the evening. You nodded once more.

Dean sighed at your silence but sat anyway, opposite the fire from you so he could try and see your face better - something you were trying your hardest to not let happen - while Sam went and hitched their horses next to yours.

”She’s beautiful.” Sam said to you, gesturing to your horse. Songbird was a full black shire horse with a large white strip along the nose. She was certainly flashier than was wise for a bandit, but you got her when you were young and you’d rather die than part with her.

You smiled and stood, heading over to the three horses. “She’s smart as hell, my best judge of character.” Sam laughed gently, looking over at you as he petted the blonde horse in front of him. You tried not to speak too much - though you weren’t sure how recognisable your voice was, you didn’t want to risk it. Sam stared at your hands, noticing how a large scar pulled its way along your palm - unusual in shape.

”Same with my Riot, he’s an Arabian so he’s pretty judgmental. Dean’s is the worst though, Baby’s so temperamental it’s almost impossible to get anything done” You smiled and looked over at the sleek black Hanoverian - you noted how well kept it was.

You both made your way back to the fire and sat, refastening the clasps of your boots to save you doing nothing.

The sun had fully set by now and night bit at the fire, causing it to settle into embers. Sam leaned against a tree, and you assumed he was sleeping while Dean sat opposite, his eyes still trained on you as if you would draw your gun.

It seemed as though he had planned to calm down when a series of cheers echoed across the valley. Both of you looked up, eyes sharp. You’d recognise the voices anywhere and you’d wager that the boys would too. Dean ran for his horse, not bothering to wait for his brother and rode after them.

You woke Sam quickly and headed for Songbird, apologising to her for the loud noises. The two of you rode after the older officer, but soon realised that you were being circled by the gang. You signalled to Sam to take a different route, but he was too focused on his brother and was quickly knocked off his horse by a bullet to his arm. You pulled to a stop and got out your pistol, Shooting at the bandits as they passed. They didn’t want you, nor Sam really - they just wanted to cause chaos.

Your shots rang as a warning and the gang cleared out, leaving you, two scared horses and a bleeding officer who would most likely arrest you given the chance. “Dean.” Sam called out but you silenced him, putting pressure on his arm.

”Shut it. You’re brother’s probably alive.” You spoke quickly, helping him to stand. Using a mix of his own strength and yours, he climbed onto the back of your horse and held his arm tight around your waist. You gripped the loose rein of Riot’s leash and headed back to your camp, quickly and quietly.

When you returned, you found your camp ransacked. Food was missing from your bags and small smoke clouds trailed from the now put out fire. They didn’t want you to find it again, which most likely meant they’d be returning for the rest. You’d have to be gone by the next evening.

Sam was pale and his eyes were fluttering every so often. You were warm and it was hard to breathe so with a sigh you pulled the bandana from your face and wrapped it around his arm, securing the wound and partially stopping the blood flow. Luckily, the bandits hadn’t had time to go into the packs in your tent and you smiled in relief when you pulled a large bottle of whisky from it. You poured some over the injury then took a large swig, wincing at the bite of the alcohol.

You’d let Sam sleep for now. He could get proper medical care when he returned to the sheriff's station, hopefully without you in handcuffs.

Sam was lucky in the sense that he got sleep that evening, something you weren’t so blessed with. Fatigue pulled at you and you found yourself playing with the remaining hot embers to stay awake - though they were dwindling by the minute. Eventually, Sam woke and sat up, his brows furrowing in confusion.

”Morning.” You said simply, sending a nod his way. He groaned in pain and turned to face you, good hand pushing his hair from his eyes. Now your bandana was off, Sam had a good chance to look at you.

His eyes narrowed, taking in your features. “I know you from somewhere.” He said gently, voice raw from pain and sleep. He wasn’t wrong.

1870

You were standing still behind a wall, one hand inching toward your pistol and the other holding money you were currently attempting to steal. It would’ve been an easy escape, you could’ve ran, called your horse and been clear of the town before anyone noticed but the new ‘specialist’ that had been travelling through Texas had to get in the way.

He tackled you to the ground, pulling the money from your hand and pinning you with minimal force. “Ow.” You said with annoyance, trying to move your hand so you could reach your blade that hid in your waistband.

The man’s gaze was stern as he kept you pinned against the hot sandy floor. “What are you doing?” He asked, voice harsh with suspicion. You sighed and turned your head to the side so you could actually breathe and rolled your eyes.

“Is it any of your business?”

“Ow.” He replied, mocking you. You stared at him, finding it unusual how a man of his profession had such long hair, which was cut into a small fringe and was falling slightly over his eyes. He eventually relents and allows you to stand, hand resting on his pistol as he places cuffs on your hands.

He took in your outfit, noticing how you wore dark denim and black leather, the only thing standing out was a red bandana. You certainly looked like a bandit.

You sighed and held up your hands, looking at the handcuffs in annoyance. “Seriously? You’re gonna cuff me? How are you so sure I’m a criminal?” You asked, voice bored - this had happened far too often to be entertaining at this point. He went to reply, when a deep voice yelled his name.

Sam.

He turned, breaking into a sprint and leaving you cuffed there. “You’re not gonna-” You began but sighed, realising he wasn't coming back and walked grumpily toward the abandoned blacksmith’s saw - not a good idea in retrospect, but it got you free.

1872

Sam walked idly into the sheriff’s office, hand reaching up to remove his Stetson when he saw you, sat in the gaol with your arms leaning on the bars. You were wearing a lighter shade now, mostly donning browns and blues, though the red bandana was still safely tied around your neck.

“You don’t seem very good at your job.” He said, smirking as he walked closer. You looked up at the man, sighing when you saw him. His hair had grown longer, sitting gently by his chin.

You leaned back in the seat and the cuffs on your feet clink, “I’ve been a bandit since ‘65…and I’ve been caught twice - though I’m not counting the first since you didn’t technically arrest me.” You replied, staring with boredom at the dirt under your nails. He nodded in response, reasonably impressed at you.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, him watching you with tired but amused eyes and you fiddling with the cuffs around your ankles. Sam’s eyes were drawn to your hands, seeing the large red scar that ripped over it, shining slightly on your palm.

Suddenly, a loud gunshot rang through the sheriff’s range and the both of you sat up straight. A large group had planned an organised attack on the station and, much to your luck, it gave you a proper chance to escape (one which you accepted gratefully). Sam had seen you climbing quickly onto your horse, but he had more pressing matters at hand - at least that’s what he told himself.

1876

He sat in the bar, head in his hand as he played with the whisky glass in his palm - the ice creating a cold film over his fingers.

It was like something from a novel, the way you stood in the doorway, a perfect silhouette. You stepped into the light, looking overly annoyed at nothing in particular and Sam almost didn’t recognise you. The lace gloves on your hands looked as though they itched and he was surprised you could breathe in the corset,, but you looked…different, all the same. It seemed as though you didn’t recognise him either as you took a seat next to him at the bar, signalling for something (anything) to drink.

“Bandit?” He asked, eyes stuck on you. You turned slowly, recognising the voice. He had certainly changed, in fact, he almost resembled a man, though his face was still slightly too young for this to be true.

You smiled, sipping your drink. “Sam. And it’s Y/n.” you replied, sending a nod his way. Sam replied with the same courtesy and furrowed his brows, looking at the amount of skirts and ruffles that you wore. You took notice and sighed, fiddling with the outer lace. “Not my choice, too difficult to run in - but my brother chose the dress code for his wedding and the jacket wasn’t acceptable.” You complained, voice tired.

He laughed, though noted to himself that you had kept the bandanna around your face - no doubt the pistol was still hidden somewhere.

The two of you drank for a long while, sharing short stories (you trying to keep the more illegal details out) and talking about your brothers. However, it seemed as though all of your meetings would be short-lived.

“Ma’am.” A voice called, stern and unwelcoming. It was a voice you recognised (you had taught yourself to remember every voice of every Sheriff in the state…for your own convenience). You shared a look with Sam, you’d been recognised.

You sighed and agreed, standing and leaving the bar. “I don’t doubt we’ll see each other again, Sam.” You said simply, heading back toward the wedding.

1883

“Hello.”

Sam turned, smiling as he recognised you. You were back in the usual attire, red bandanna seeming more red than usual…if that were possible. You were standing, leaning against the wall with one hand lazily resting on your belt.

He found himself smiling. “I should technically arrest you,” He stated, standing in place by his horse. You grinned in reply, moving closer to him with a simple smile.

“Who cares about technicalities?”

You kept your hand on your holster, the other by your side, mirroring his pose. Your eyes moved to his hand, noticing how his fingers twitched in some sort of anticipation (though you weren’t sure whether he was going to arrest you or something much more exciting). Sam’s head cocked to the side, following your every movement with an unreadable expression, then he almost whispered, “wasn’t it fun though, me putting you in handcuffs?”

Sam had aged rather drastically in your few years apart, his jaw was harsh and square and his hair flicked, slowly but surely nearing his shoulders. He was broader too - before he had been young and as lean as a six foot four man could be but now he was all muscle, large shoulders and strong arms. He looked built for the job now. Sam’s scarred hands played over his belt buckle and your eyes flitted over it, seeing a small star sigil with a circle wrapping around it - something you recognised.

A smile played on your lips and you moved away again, fingers tucked through the loops of your jeans. “Smooth,” you spoke lazily, then turned just before you reached your horse, adding on, “but yes, it wasn’t too bad.” He laughed gently and you climbed onto Songbird, leaving him staring after you yet again.

1884

“Bandit.”

You smiled, nodding your head lazily. “Is my name so hard to forget?” You replied almost snarkily, a hint of something else hidden in your tone. You leaned down, wrapping any spare cloths you had found around his injury - you knew better than to remove the bullet.

Sam laughed gently, voice slightly weak. You looked up, brows furrowed in confusion as he spoke. “I just find it a funny sight…a bandit fixing up a ranger.”

You smiled too, now, shaking your head gently - you tried to ignore his wince as you tightened the scraps around his shaking arm. “You’re not really a bull though, are you?” He shook his head in response, sitting up slightly as if it would be a task to explain what he does.

”No. I’m more of a…specialist?”

”Oh, so a hunter.”

Sam went silent, almost in a state of shock - he wasn’t sure how to reply so instead he resorted to a simple nod and you went back to bandaging him, talking absentmindedly. “I am too, technically. I’m just more… illegal about it.” You spoke and he laughed, nodding once more in agreement.

You finally leaned away from his arm and sat by the completely extinguished fire, eyes stuck to him. “How about we go searching for your brother?” You asked, arms crossing. He moved closer to you and began to set up the fire once more, prompting a confused look from you.

”We’ll go in the morning, it’s not safe to travel now. I wouldn’t be able to fight in case anything happened.” He replied, adding, “a days more rest.” You nodded and leaned back against a large rock, eyes lidded as they flitted over to the slowly growing fire.

The night had grown dark, flurries of rain filtering through the deep blue sky. You were still awake, running your hands through your hair softly. Sam was sleeping, as soundly as you could with the annoying, spitting type of rain running down your face. It picked up after a while and under the harsh cover of night you could swear you heard the beating and repetitive sounds of hooves against wet sand.

You were, unfortunately, proven right and the very same bandits from two nights ago stormed you, coming back for what they had left. You knew you couldn’t leave Sam behind and resorted to a good old fashioned knife fight. If any gunshots were heard, they didn’t wake Sam - this type of noise was far too familiar in Texas.

You managed to fend them off until they gave up, but garnered a few nasty cuts on your arms. It was something you’d handle later on. Rain beat down now, choking you and you’re not sure what’s water and what’s blood in the dark.

The sun rose again - as it had always done - and your role of tending the fire dwindled to watching it die as Sam awoke beside you. “You’re hurt. How?” He asked, leaning close. Both yours and his wounds seeped in unison, weeping at each other for retribution.

”It’s usually the job description of a bandit to be hurt.” You replied, declaring to both him and yourself that it was no one's business. He didn’t relent.

He drew nearer, hands twitching in want - to help you as you had for him. Though, Sam couldn’t find it in himself to speak on the matter and moved on to something much more pressing. “Dean is alive. Back in town I’d wager.” You looked over, glad he had moved on.

You raised a brow. “And you’re sure how?” He allowed your confusion, offering a sort of explanation for the matter.

”His horse, if he had been hurt, Baby would ride straight back here.”

“What if Baby’s dead.”

Silence. No one had ever offered the idea. No one liked to think their pet would die. “That damn horse is invincible. Keeps on going. It’s been two days, they’re back in town.” Sam assured, watching you poke idly at the sand.

You nod and stand, brushing the dirt off of your knees. “Let's go meet him then.” You said simply, heading over to your horse. The knife wound on your thigh tugged at your movements and you tried to brush it off, hoping the limp wasn’t too visible.

The air was heavy and humid, ripping air from your lungs and sitting hot against your skin. “What happened?” He asked gently as the two of you headed in the direction of the town. Sam’s eyes lingered on your skin, tracing over where sweat stuck your clothes to you.

”It was nothing, a few of the bandits came back. It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” You replied, pulling your collar away from your neck in irritation. The heat had risen with impossible speed and for once you were happy that your bandanna wasn’t secured around her neck. You leaned against Songbird as you rode, skin damp.

Sam watched from beside you, noticing how quiet and calm you seemed. “And you’re not bleeding out? I can help-“

You shook your head. “No need. I don’t want you to return any favours,” You looked at him with a smirk, “I might need a ‘get out of jail’ pass some day.” He laughed, turning back to the open path.

As if sent from the heavens, the wind picked up and cooled your skin, blowing warm air across your body - though you would’ve appreciated a cold breeze, this’d have to do. The morning had become midday, sun high in the sky and air foul with an uncomfortable smell, when Sam stopped still, both him and Riot seemingly staring off at nothing.

You came to a stop too, listening. Watching. “What?” You whispered, but then you saw it, so far away it could’ve been a speck. The breeze, the smells. It was a demon. There was a quick nod shared then the both of you took off toward the old barn. It was the only thing for miles and you were both sure that no human could live out here without supernatural assistance.

Sam usually would’ve taken time to plan, but he had been hunting this thing for far too long and irritation had whittled his patience down. He took the blade from his belt and pressed his back hard against a half-ruined wall while you went around the back, a bottle of holy water you kept in your pocket securely in your hand.

Of course, it had been expecting you, and your ambush was more of a self-sacrifice. Your back hit the barn wall harshly and you hit the ground, the holy water falling a ways away. Sam was next to fall, blade being ripped from his grasp. You sat up, groaning in pain and looked over. It was a man, one who had clearly been a bandit.

Pain ripped through your thigh and you looked down, seeing the stab wound tearing wider than it had before. You turned your head to the side, seeing the demon fighting Sam. He certainly had the mis advantage however and was moments away from his own knife entering his chest.

”Hey!” You yelled, standing up again. The demon. You wiped the sweat from your brow and pulled the colt from your waistband. “Christo, bitch.” You pulled the trigger and the demon crumpled to the floor, a mess of sinew, blood and demon ash.

Sam stood, wiping the sweat and blood from his brow. “Nice shot.” You nodded at him and walked back out the barn, your limp much more pronounced - something you could’ve expected.

——

The both of you reached town, ugly stains of red littering your clothes and skin. Dean was standing on the porch of the Sheriff's station with bruises of his own - though his weren’t as frequent and had nearly healed. He pulled his brother into a fierce hug, hand pushing the back of Sam’s head into Dean’s shoulder (if he had seen Sam wince he didn’t take note of it).

You watched from a distance, leaning next to your horse tiredly. Before you could turn to leave, cuffs were placed around your hands, guiding you away from Songbird. You looked up at the Sheriff with angry eyes, voice harsh and raw from fatigue, “I just saved your boy’s life. Multiple times.”

Sam looked over, brows furrowing as he saw you being led inside. He would’ve followed - he had all intention to - but Dean held him back with a harsh grip against his palm. “Sam. She’s a criminal.” There was a wager in his mind: he wanted to do the right thing - to free you, but a more guilty part of him won. He didn’t want to disappoint his brother. Sam turned away and your eyes tracked him in disappointment, though you know you shouldn’t have expected much.

Night fell fast, and the usual heat of Texas was replaced with splintered wooden floors, a sticky yet icy breeze and cold metal bars. You picked at your nails, trying to clean any remaining dirt out from underneath. Your weapons had been seized and without both them and your bandana you felt exposed.

You were just warming up to the idea of getting comfortable when a shadow covered the moon light that streamed through the windows, one with broad shoulders and a Stetson. The door of the cell swung open slowly, quietly and the shadow stepped to the side. “Go to your horse and leave.” The shadow whispered.

Sam.

A rough hand placed a piece of red cloth into your palm and a soft breath tickled against your ear. “Think of it as me returning the favour.” Through the filtered moonlight you could see Sam’s face, the old bottle windows scattering the night scene across his features like glitter. You smiled gently and leaned forward, placing a kiss to his lips. It was something slow and gentle, something memorable.

But then, you were gone, leaving no trace that you had been in the cell except the opened handcuffs and the sharp, yet fleeting smell of cherries and tobacco. Sam found himself smiling.

#fic #fanfic #one shot #writing #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x you #angst #sam winchester x fem!reader #supernatural #hurt/comfort #fluff #happy ending #if you squint #supernatural fic

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goqmir · 8 months

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hey magic the gatheringers, ive been rebuilding my favorite edh decks and hyperfixating on them lately so i just wanted to make a pretty lil post about them offering them to anyone who wants to play em :) these are my favorite decks right now and ive just run through and adjusted the decklists of all of them in the last couple days so they're fresh and ready to perform <3

the first deck is Rocco Cast From Exile!

the third rework of this decklist with the new cards from CLU really cemented that this is my favorite deck i've ever made. Rocco, Street Chef plays kingpin to a unique Naya value pile built around playing cards from exile!

this deck is similar to Prosper, who is unfortunately the face of Cast From Exile-- but unlike Prosper, this commander and the other options for CFE payoffs you get in Naya are super interesting and cool :) you get [[Feldorn]], [[Pia Nalaar]], [[Quintorius Kand]], as well as fun cheapening effects like [[Liara Portyr]] and [[Tlincalli Hunter]] on top of the delightful cascade effects green gets!

you also get to play around with +1/+1 counters (Rocco might be the best commander of all time at like... putting +1/+1s on specific individual creatures honestly??) and the magic that is food tokens (which are getting stronger and stronger each passing set). furthermore, Rocco impulse draws for your opponents, which means you get to encourage them to make tough decisions! do they play their combo piece from exile, feeding your deck? (Rocco is so efficient that they will soon learn that the answer to that question is almost always no... but you can always pretend that you're playing group hug and giving them free cards until they figure that out!)

this deck gets a lot of mana and builds up a monstrous board state very quickly. as far as individual value pieces go, be on the lookout for [[Jaheria, Friend of the Forest]], [[Inspiring Statuary]], and [[Night of the Sweets' Revenge]] for ways to make an unreal amount of mana. [[Herd Baloth]] and [[Faldorn]] will get you tokens for every card played from exile, and i would say are the main things giving you a monstrous board. don't sleep on the cascaders and thieves either-- every extra card obtained from things like [[Bloodbraid Elf]] or the Etalis net you another Cast From Exile trigger!

Naya Cast From Exile is weird and awesome and I highly recommend playing and building in this design space :) there's a lot of Naya CFE cards that work but I cut from the deck, and they give us more cards and commanders for the archetype all the time. this is definitely my favorite deck i've ever made <3

the second deck i'd like to show off is my Oloro Control decklist!

i've always been the interaction player at the table. you might find that these decklists are a bit heavy on the interaction for you actually-- i truly believe disruption is like. so important. especially when you're playing for value rather than combos like i do ^_^

so here is my dedicated Esper Control decklist! Oloro is there to keep you topped off and to draw you cards-- by playing this deck it really does net you anywhere from 10-40 extra life in a given game in my experience just by playing him. and the card draw on Oloro is pretty insane, enabling you to find the necessary ramp and bombs to end the game after you've disrupted every combo at the table :) personally i don't like Oloro the character very much at all-- don't know why, but he's a little difficult for me to look at. i personally have a custom proxy that replaces Oloro with Grusha :3

this Control deck is all about gaining slow and steady value while ensuring the bad things aren't sent your way. there are some stax pieces here, but not very strict ones-- your goal is to remain innocuous while you get the mana and cards to play your bombs and your opponents hopefully go at each other. the bombs in question are things like [[Debt to the Deathless]], [[Expropriate]], [[Torment of Hailfire]], planeswalkers like [[Sorin Markov]], and creatures that amass you value quickly like [[Drogskol Reaver]] and [[Sunscorch Regent]]. you gain life, shut down your opponents, and force unwinnable situations or knock out opponents with big bombs. it's fun!

the third deck is Vadrok Inevitable Betrayal Combo!

Vadrok here is the final fruit of my obsession with the 0 cmc suspend cards I went through a few months back. after toying with pretty much ever one in turn, Vadrok is the one that stuck around because he plays so interestingly and truly warps your table's metagame if you bring him out enough times.

let's get into the weeds: the combo here is a pretty simple one-- Vadrok is one of (and the only legendary) engine that allows you to play cards from your graveyard without exiling them after, done by mutating. [[Inevitable Betrayal]] is a 0 mana cost blue spell that takes a creature from an opponent's deck and puts it onto the battlefield under your control. The combo, then, is a gradual one: use a spell to discard Inevitable Betrayal, and mutate onto Vadrok. each mutate plays Inevitable Betrayal for free, allowing you to cheat out an opponent's creature each time. this is strong.

the deck features a suite of tutors, a variety of ways to discard cards, and every mutate card in Jeskai (except the one whose mutate cost is six mana :P). the combo is surprisingly low to the ground and quick, allowing for turn one/two discards and turn three Vadrok mutates at times. however, it's often worth waiting to mutate Vadrok onto a creature with Hexproof to ensure little interruption as you swarm the board with your opponents' best hits.

this deck, of course, relies heavily on your opponents' decks then. which is why this deck is so metagame-warping-- even at more casual tables, you'll probably see your friends take their funny eldrazi and craterhoofs out of their decks because you're so prone to winning with them. personally, i find that delightful! i tend to cycle deck usage anyway, so it's cute to steal a bunch of things for a couple weeks, have my opponents edit their decklists to remove my hits, lose interest in the deck, and come back a couple months later and steal the good hits in their new decks, repeat :) its fun having a deck that warps metagames with its presence alone.

the final deck id like to talk about is my Silvar and Trynn Humans decklist!

mardu is delightful and for the longest time i couldn't find a mardu commander i ever wanted to build! finally though, i stumbled across these two :) the art on them is so gorgeous! i love ikoria.

this deck is very fun! the only typal deck on the list, humans is a very fun type to build around and you get access to so many bangers in mardu. this deck is all about building a board of as many humans as you possibly can, then sacking them all to put 17 +1/+1 counters on Silvar and start swinging for commander lethal. how that is done is different every game, with so many fun human pieces and interaction pieces that each game feels very distinctly different from the last more so than any of the other decks discussed on this post. furthermore, mardu offers my favorite interaction suite of all time, so it's always a pleasure to play with.

teehee anyway thats my decks ive been hyperfixating on! feel free to give em a try :) sqrrk!!

#mtg #magic the gathering

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extended-kirbydash · 5 months

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Hattirby is joining the @kirbyoctournament!

(if this does not format correctly I will cry /j)

Hey folks! Here's Kirby OC with an uncreative name and lore that I thought up in the shower.

Name: Hattirby (Hattie for short)

Pronouns: He/Him

Personality: Hattie takes things very seriously - if he's dedicated to something, there's not joking around. To him, many activities are a waste of time. He doesn't like being vulnerable, even around his best friends. (I may update this later. I got lazy)

Fun Facts!

Hattirby has magic powers, but he doesn't like using them for reasons that are explained under the cut.

Most drawings of Hattie were made on MS Paint, including this one.

He is a young adult, a couple years younger than Meta Knight.

Backstory and Lore: Oh boy there is a lot! Check under the cut. (tw: death)

When Hattie was younger, he lived on a completely different planet in the galaxy. One particular month, the planet started to see darker skies, more enemies than normal, and general strange occurrences.

At the end of the month, the planet was suddenly attacked by a creature made of darkness, whose proximity to the planet caused all the weird behavior. The inhabitants of the planets tried to flee and fight back, but many lost their lives. Hattie's parents tried to defend him and his sister from the monster's minions, but they both died in the process and Hattirby's sister fled the planet without him.

Hattie, stuck alone with the minions, tried to defeat them, but he didn't know how to work his parent's weapons so he couldn't get any damage done. After wrecking havoc across the planet, the monster reached Hattirby, who was one of the last people still on the planet. It wanted to kill him by shooting a beam of darkness right through him, which is what it did.

Fortunately, a group of magic users who were trying to heal their own wounds noticed the beam and rushed to help him. After hours of testing different methods, they concluded that the damage from the darkness was too powerful to be removed, so they instead sealed the dark magic away into Hattirby's soul through his head and stitched it up using a special type of magic that would ensure that the darkness would not escape and possibly take control of Hattie.

The monster, assuming that Hattirby had died, left the planet. He hadn't died, but he was very fatigued. One of the wizards who had healed the puffball offered to take him to another planet to recover, and he gladly accepted.

The magician found a small flying boat (like the Lor, but tinier) among the ruins. They loaded Hattie up and flew them all the way to Popstar, which they believed was the closest planet that wouldn't be attacked by the monster.

After dropping Hattie off and getting him settled in a house close to Castle Dedede, the wizard waved him goodbye as they believed the monster might follow them there.

#kirby oc #my art #kirby oc tournament #uhh. yeah :)

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glowstone23b · 1 year

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warden/ancient city thoughts …

Anicent cities aren’t actually cities, they’re actually massive temples instead that devoted themselves to a certain god (im not sure what god the old builders would worship akandk)

They laid many people to rest in those underground crypts, that a bit of their souls leaked out of the bodies and infected the glowing cave vines, resulting in a strange mutation of sculk

and as more people died and got places in those tombs,,, the more sculk spread

Eventually some worshippers caught notice of this and assumed it to be some gift from the gods, so they continued to add fuel to it, experimenting with it, etc, finding out that when a creature dies— instead of the soul ascending to an afterlife, it is instead pulled down by the sculk and merged into what was like a sentient hivemind of connected souls working together to become something akin to an organism

At some point, as evolution of the sculk furthered and sculk sensors formed, it eventually led to a sculk shrieker

and after worshippers activated it a couple times in a row,

It summoned the massive, blind hulking beast known as the warden. It harvested as many souls as it could from the worshippers as it chased after them, leaving no one in it’s wake, before retreating back into the biomass until the next time there is a significant amount of soul that alerts the shriekers once more

Ok mini rant story thing over. i like to think that sculk works in a weird sort of method

Catalyst farm and form the extra sculk needed to begin an infection —> sensors pick up on sounds made by noises that supposedly could be creatures with a soul —> shriekers sound a scream that helps determine if a warden should form —> warden harvests any nearby creatures to help the sculk spread. if killed, the warden drops a catalyst, so it can all begin again

The warden itself is a weird amalgamation of human souls stuck together fused with the sculk. the main reasoning for it being blind (other than cave animals usually being blind since low to zero light requires little need for eyes) is because detecting sound means a very high chance of something w soul

Sculk sickness …. Possibly a rare disease only picked up by deep miners. nasty no good and probably hurts as the sculk eats you from the inside out

Illagers came across the ancient cities and set up camp for a short amount of time to try and study the sculk . you can imagine what happened to them

[ i like to think every ‘living’ creature in minecraft has a soul. that keeps them alive and thinking and breathing and stuff. and undead mobs have soul residue which leaves them with very basic instincts or things they subconsciously remember how to do ITS A FUN THOUGHT ]

[ in my little au illagers love experimenting w souls . because the more you experiment the more messed up results you get (vexes being the fused collective of 2-3 allays, or creating abominations via sticking two different mob souls together… possibly how ravagers came to be since they look a bit like villagers that got turned into beasts . fun theorizing ]

Hey invention? Phanon? I love your mind, it's wonderful. Have a drawing!

I've never drawn a warden before, mostly because it's been very daunting, but I think I got it out the way I wanted it to!! Sculk itself is kind of like... a fungus-y tentacle-y mixture, and i got some inspiration from the devil's fingers fungus irl! Really cool, I suggest giving it a look-see.

In my head, sculk would start off kind of like little eggs or pips or... whatever those things are... there's a name for it, when a plant or a cell decides to split off to make a new plant or cell? Mitosis? Bulbs? Plantlets? There's a word I'm looking for. Anyways. They'd probably grow mini sculk bits off of more mature ones so they can drop off and spread on their own, kind of like some types of succulent if that makes sense? Which explains the little sticky-outy bits on the wardens' horn things. Man, there's gotta be proper terminology for this, my brain is not finding the right words today.

They'd release some sort of bioluminescence when disturbed, and have an almost tar-like substance produced to trap smaller mobs (spiders, bats, etc.) that happen to wander too close, akin to fly traps. It wouldn't work as well for humans, but it's not uncommon to have your foot tugged on by some sculk in the hopes it can digest you.

I went off "The warden itself is a weird amalgamation of human souls stuck together fused with the sculk" because it's FREAKING COOL, so !!! Yeah!! I've got some of the larger/longer sculk tendrils used as arms and 'fingers' in a sense, though they're not all that precise in use. It just opts to smack the heck out of people usually. The bones in the shoulders and feet I thought were really cool on the in-game design, so I feel that the sculk would grow around any sorts of bones it had access to to keep a more stable structure. Keeping yourself upright if you're a soft mass of plantiness/fungus-yness would be a little tough, I think. Also, keeping bones close to the sculk might make it easier to tether souls together? Who knows!

It'd be neat to see what types of matter the sculk would attach to to form a warden-- it could be enderman bones, for all we know! Big and long and short and stubby, and all of the bones are in the wrong places. Using femurs for toes, or ribs for arms... it'd definitely not be fun to see in person.

Sculk sickness sounds SO NEAT TOO!!! I imagine you might be able to inhale it, like spores? Since it feeds off of xp or souls, you just keep fueling it once you're infected whether you like it or not. Does it have any cure, or would you have to have some sort of surgery to try to remove the existing sculk from your body? That'd cause a heck of a lot of complications, if it were to block anything internally. Wild, but neat to theorize about.

And YES on the experimenting with souls thing! Especially with the update so vexes look a lot more like allays-- definitely experiment material. I wonder how many more mobs are out there that we haven't seen because they haven't been made yet? Just mish mashes of any sort of soul they could get their hands on, inhabiting a body that doesn't feel quite right. Kinda interesting!

Thank you for sharing as always ily you rule. Your theories slap, may your inventory be full of diamonds or something. May the Nether's fire guide your way, idk. More piglin-y, as per my blog, lol.

#minecraft #glowstone23b asks #glowstone23b art #minecraft worldbuilding #phanon #brandnewinvention #minecraft warden #minecraft sculk #minecraft deep dark #that should be enough tags #idk #not nether #also that #anyways. apologies for the late reply also but i wanted to make art for it #and i was out volunteering with animals so life is good :)#expect delayed replies from me unfortunately #but i wanna sit down to read your stuff when i have the time to respond to it because it's lovely #phanon-menal if you will #ok that's it for now you never cease to amaze!! stay fed and hydrated bud!!

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cosmos-dot-semicolon · 4 months

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(⭐fanfic writers' commentary)

@plutosoda hi

Ooh, time to reread my old writing, huh? Always a fun trip, especially given I'd totally forgotten like half of it including that repetition trick you'd mentioned…

fair warning, i only got like 3 asks for this thing so I'm gonna commentate on pretty much the entire fic here. This post never ends.

Here's an entire director's commentary on All-Nighter! Enjoy!

"The covers were warm… But at least it'd get something done before passing out again."

I'm still fond of this intro. I'm terrible with being succinct, but this is somewhere where my rambling writing style really works; this section is written from experience of many a 'stayed up too anxious now you can't sleep' nights, and someone who has read a lot of the techniques to fix that problem, then didn't (ADHD lol). That is in fact what my internal monologue tends to be like at night - a mix between recalling every single way you've ever learnt to pass out, worrying about what happens tomorrow, 'why is life like that. what did i do,' and just a pinch of 3am self loathing.

I never really thought of it until an AO3 commenter pointed it out, but it was a fairly natural way of worldbuilding/expositing/characterisation all in one go. Establish the premise of the fic, Robot only bothering to process things when it's on the brink of exhaustion, the way it's kinda obsessed with productivity and efficiency and self-improvement.

I'm proud of it!

Also I like to think Lady Luck only does the weird scheduling thing for Robot. She'd be the type of person to try and make the Dungeons a personalised hell for everybody.

“Hey, could I get a coffee, do you think? …I’ve been sleeping so badly down here.”

I'm quite happy with the intro to the next bit too. My goal going into most fanworks (still) is to emulate what drew me to the original story. In this case, that's Dicey's tone and dialogue, with a bit more direct focus on the characterisation of everyone. So this is sort of a meta plot device that signals all that to the reader. I love how efficient that is. also I just like throwbacks and references okay

"The canteen was a dense jumble of kichen counters…"

I could've been a little faster with this scene and Robot subsequently making the coffee. One of my weaknesses as a writer is that I hallucinate some of the scenes in my head, and try to write down everything in that instead of just drawing a comic (cough that one unpublished Ninjago fic). I'm a sucker for describing scenery for days on end.

That said, I'm really glad I got the vibe of 'light-blue-grey' morning over to you in your fanart. It was exactly what I was imagining as I was writing this.

"Pre-ground. …But this was just evil."

I think I'm funny. Anxiety cube can put up with a lot, but terrible coffee isn't it.

"They taste horrible compared to freshly ground beans. It’s not worth the convenience."

haha. because you see. that's its heart's desire *gets turned into a dice*

"Pouring a generous portion for its new friend, Robot masked its complaints with a long sigh." "…But thanks to the innovations of modern day life-” An overhead swig downed half the mug."

A commenter pointed out that some of my lines have really good flow in them between actions and characterisation. I didn't notice that until then, but I'm inclined to agree. Some of these drive in the point really well.

"At least its fellow patron was enjoying themselves – not even flinching at the concoction and savouring the coffee raw. It was tempted to start a commentary on how dark roasts were overrated, but soon became a little more concerned about them drinking through the 100 centigrade burns. This place had quite the collection of creatures, it seemed."

I like to think Robot's a little snobby about the things it enjoys. I like to think Lady Luck tries to throw people off as much as possible.

"So, how’s the self-improvement going?" they started. "I only want top quality minions in my dungeons."

Very fun fact is that I was worried about spoiling the twist in this fic because of this line being so blatant, but I wanted to put it in anyway because it's a good character-establishing moment, and a good… re-interpretation of the line in another context? I love recontextualising canon in a slightly different way that still works for the characters in question. it's so fun

Anyways. Turns out I didn't need to worry about that because at least one reader totally missed this too so got hit with the full twist anyways. Isn't writing great?

"So, what’s keeping you up this late?” they asked. “Nightmares? A looming sense of regret and existential dread? Unfinished essays due tomorrow morning?"

essays due tomorrow morning. haha so true. i'm glad I don't take much coursework nowadays.

"You know, as useless as it looks, sleep’s rather important for you folks. It’s how you deal with all the terrible things that happen during the day, since your brain can just wipe the slate clean and try again. But funnily enough, it’s always the first thing that’s left behind whenever someone wants to better themself." "Life’s painful enough as it is. Why not change things up if your current routines aren’t working?" "Nobody ever plays the cards they’re dealt perfectly, dear… Time always slips you by when you’re not paying attention. And nobody ever knows what’s coming next. You’ve just got to learn when to raise and fold them." "Well, part of being human is never being a hundred-and-one percent efficient. If you folks still count yourself as that. I’d apologise but I remember you were quite nonchalant about your little transformation anyways."

One of the main points of this fic was that while Lady Luck is blatantly on the offensive and absolutely insulting Robot to its core, she's not technically… wrong?

It's not bad advice. Lady Luck, in-game, seems very perceptive of the various insecurities mortals go through. And I like to think she does start this conversation just for genuine fun, to pick someone apart. See if they bounce back against it or just crumble. It's just a bonus that the recipient finds it harder to refute her offers afterwards.

"It might!" it snapped back, getting them to at least try and contain their mockery under a silent, wavering smirk. "You know what? I think it will be, I can feel it!"

Robot sort of does both. It's definitely very very anxious. But it's stubborn. I really like that about its character: how there's a contrast between its organised and disorganised sides? How robots are usually associated with hard numbers and calculations, but Robot's mechanic is blackjack. also it's SO autism/adhd coded. listen. in this

I don't know if there's a trope to call either of these, but they're my favourite things about both characters, and they're surprisingly introspective for a game so short on story. (I will write more about that in another post. lol).

It's a bit indulgent in how long it goes on in some areas, but eh. It works for the fic's pacing.

"The figure leaned forward to highlight its obvious obliviousness…" "I thought you were supposed to be the overly organisational optimist."

I love alliteration. yippee!

"A gentle chuckle filled the air, restrained from its usual projecting echo. "You wound me, Robot. Games are always more fun when your players at least get the chance to try and fight back."

I like to think Lady Luck's main motivation is entertainment. Which mostly involves watching people suffer. But I think it's in the spirit of luck to have it so that someone's downfall was their choice. Determinism versus free will and whatever.

The chance that somebody could escape makes things spicier. And makes it sting all the more for all those that didn't. Hooray!!

Also given Lady Luck's usual loud persona, I planned (plan) on giving her quite a few more subtle but equally threatening moments in this series. It's a thing that wouldn't really work well in the actual game, but it does in a slower medium like writing, and I fucking love that trope.

"Statistically unlikely, but I’ll humour it," she commented to an invisible aside."

You should picture this scene as her directly staring at you through the fourth wall. Like in a sitcom.

"But it’s not so bad, being a minion… I’ve heard that’s about as stable as a job as you can get these days." "…though surprisingly she was not the worst boss it had had to deal with."

I always thought this line, used on Thief in-game, would've been an absolute killer on Robot. The job market is pretty fucking shit these days under capitalism and you would be lying if you said there aren't at least some parts of the Dungeons that seem better work-wise. Inclusivity, stable employment, accommodation.

Yeah, you have no freedom, but that's also the goal of capitalism up here as well. At least in Dicey it's ridculous and ironic. And you'd get to use your degree in maths/statistics/acounting etc to its full extent! Can you fucking imagine the paperwork for a game-show/dungeon hybrid business.

"But then again, I think you’re plenty used to the grind."

I believe this was an unintentional-turned-intentional coffee pun. Boooooo

"Funny how they think that’ll discourage anybody. …Folks hear that the house always wins and immediately think they’ll be the exception."

She would be the one to know that. This was intended as a followup to Robot's entire argument before. I'm very happy that at least one person picked up on that :D

"So whatever you pick, it'll be a decision from Robot alone, no matter what your mind or body drags you into afterward.”

I believe this was also supposed to be a callback, but the wording got changed slightly. I think it was the "It feels like my mind and body won’t stop working against me" bit.

"Normally, Robot would’ve stayed to socialise and make new friends, and in all likelihood, skipping breakfast would leave it starving later on in the day. But right now, it needed some time to itself: to think and recover and remember where it was going with this."

This was another callback (that actually made it into the story). Robot immediately making another bad decision after the first, with the exact same words echoing it coming.

"Just another day in the dungeons. It could handle this."

I wanted the ending to be very short and open-ended, in that it was up to you to interpret whether Robot took the offer or not, and when. But regardless I wanted it to be like a regular intro to an episode, but with the hint something definitely fucking changed that the audience can only speculate on.

…oof. 80 minutes on this essay. My poor neck. I think that's it for now, though.

Overall I'm really happy with this piece - hence why it's one of the few things I actually put online. It's three years old, and I could've fixed the flow in some bits (there's one part where I think Robot answers a different question than was asked).

But I achieved pretty much everything I wanted to say in this piece of fanwork, it pushed me to think about characterisation a lot and my writing and editing techniques. There's a lot of neat little things I put into it, and it really got me to grips with what I liked about my inspiration in the first place.

I think that's an exercise worth trying for every fan-work creator. Stretches you brain. Almost lets you re-experience what you loved about a thing years later. Points you towards your possible future diagnoses. It's a fun time!

#asks #(not technically but still.)#plutosoda #fixing the dice #dots dots dots #⭐

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ectocs · 4 months

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The Dulyamra

post official dulyamra edit: added alt text from maniculum, thank you!

Well, after binge-reading @maniculum's bestiaryposting and all of the wonderful artists and wacky descriptions, I decided I might as well hop in. May redo this one later, but hey!

I might do some of the older stuff (even knowing what they are now, because seriously, some of those passages...). for this first one I just wanted to draw some kind of creature -- I've had art block, so I went relatively "basic" :]. more detailed, somewhat rambling thoughts under the cut (and some idea-testing sketches):

There are some pretty interesting things going on in this description. For one thing, a lot of it is dedicated to the parenting habits.

Since dulyamra have a liked and disliked twin, I decided it would only be logical for the disliked twin on her shoulder to be a little strange... so it's albino! Also, both of them are young enough that they haven't gotten their weird face-sacs like their mother.

The main working premise was "what if a bear had arms." Not so much, I fear, because I was trying to guess the animal (I wasn't, really)... but because it popped into my head during the first 2/3rds of the description and wouldn't leave, no matter what. I tried to make it less horrifying than what was in my head.

The detail of their emotions being tied into the moon's phases was intriguing. Ultimately, I decided to steal some patterning from a certain creature, with modifications: giving it vaguely moonlike shapes on its chest, while hopefully not also being too obvious about the moon thing.

Now the reason I may redo this in the future is because I find this to be an eye-catching bit: "they have compressed nostrils and a hideous face, its creases foully expanding and contracting like a bellows."

Oh, that's fun! I wish I wasn't stuck in a rut because I can think of so many fun ideas but no way to tie them together, or to a larger thing; something akin to a pug? Frog? Maybe their nose is like the worst bat nose to exist? A fan? Skin flaps? Only after drawing all this can I think of these, lol.

Ultimately I picked a guy with a neat nose/face situation to throw in the mix.

The idea here is simply that those areas by the nose could potentially inflate like a balloon, both while breathing and intentionally as a threat display. Initially, I had wanted to do something with face wrinkles and a dewlap of some sort, which I doodled initially (top right) with some other stuff:

But I couldn't get it to look right (or obvious enough without looking weird in a bad way), unfortunately, for the final piece, and switched lanes. I want to try again though!!!!

I like to picture this beast as being about knee-height.

#i seriously wanna try doing the dewlap bc its my True Dulyamra Vision but that has to be a tomorrow project if i DO try.#and keeping this hidden away in my files seems like a crime #so #maniculum bestiaryposting #dulyamra #my art #:)#I NEED TO POST THIS NOW BEFORE I OVERTHINK IT!!!

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dykegeology · 9 months

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I have complicated feelings on a lot of the ai art discourse stuff but it's definitely shocking how much it's brought out some incredibly reactionary views about art. 'to make True Art one must Toil and Suffer and all art conveys a Unique Message about the human experience' well when I do art I do it because it's fun to do draw a weird creature. and the message is 'hey look. a weird creature!'

#my high school art teacher also taught philosophy so we spent a lot of time having discussions and stuff about What Art Is and I do kind of #have opinions on it now from that but it's complex

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eldritchaccident · 3 months

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TIMING: Current LOCATION: Mabel’s Maple Shoppe PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup and @eldritchaccident SUMMARY: Kaden gets a call about a "rotten egg" at the store Teddy's working at for the moment. There's definitely nothing weird about the egg at all. CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

Another day, another strange call to animal control that Kaden was assigned to investigate. This particular call was about an egg and he was tempted to ignore it and do something a little more critical but the owner was insistent and so was Gary. The other officer told Kaden that the owner wouldn’t stop calling and making a stink (or was she saying there was a stench? He didn’t remember) and that he wasn’t going to fill out one damn line of Langley’s paperwork if he didn’t at least go by the place. A threat that the ranger couldn’t ignore. The shop in question was one he hadn’t been to before and one look at it, he could see why. Mabel’s Maple Shoppe. Seemed excessively niche, which wasn’t entirely out of place in Wicked’s Rest. But a place that “caters to all your maple needs” wasn’t going to be on the top of his list to stop by. Kaden didn’t know what maple needs consisted of but he was pretty sure he didn’t have any of those.

The scent hit him as soon as he entered the store, before the bell above the door could finish ringing. It wasn’t the worst odor he’d been up against but it sure wasn’t pleasant. Kaden tugged the collar of his shirt up a little to try and help mask it at least a little. Didn’t help much. There was someone at the counter and he figured it was best to speak to them before rifling through the shop for the creature in question. “Hey, got a call from the owner, Ms. Maple, I’m assuming. Animal control,” he said, holding up his badge to the person at the counter. “Something about a rotten strange egg. She said she saw a strange worm slither away from it I think? Was worried about a nest.” He cleared his throat, trying to mask the slight gagging from the smell, “Pretty sure I can sniff it out but wouldn’t mind being pointed in the right direction.”

—

Mabel’s Maple Shoppe was just another on a long long long long long long list of temporary jobs Teddy found themself enlisted to help with. Well, not so much enlisted by the establishment, but when an establishment found itself in need of a helping hand, the oft bored ex-demon was always just there to help. Just at the right time. It wasn’t spellwork, but it seemed almost magical in a way. Too quick on the draw, smiles too bright to ignore.

Teddy wanted to do everything humanity had to offer. They’d been removed from it for so long that even the simplest things filled them with joy. Time and its monotony were generally the reason for most people’s malaise with the working industry, but Teddy found that hopping from one occupation to the next kept it fresh, kept it fun. It added ever more names to their roster of those that owed favors. Not in the way of the fey, but of jovial connection and well earned gregariousness.

Of course, it was ever useful to have a handful of options to lean towards whenever a sudden task beyond their means reared its head. And Teddy had spent many of those good fortunes in readying the house for Emilio and Wynne. So they were back at it. Trying to find normalcy in their erratic work schedule after that… excursion into their past. In trying new jobs at new places, Ted could pretend they were someone else. A week at Mable’s and they would be off to somewhere else. Only, well, the egg happened.

Teddy hadn’t seen it. Not yet. Mrs Mable was going off about it, and how it was driving away customers. But somewhere along the five hundredth maple flavored item Teds had gone a little noseblind. The animal control officer walked in, and they were more than happy to flip the sign to ‘We’ll be back soon.’ so they could take a moment to direct him. “Did she even actually explain what she saw? She was acting like it was radioactive I swear. Wouldn’t let me leave the counter.” Though, whether that was something due to the egg itself or her desire to keep sales rolling, that was beyond them. Curiosity had been burning, and Teddy wasn’t usually one for self-restraint. But patience won out. Whatever it was, they’d find it together now.

—

Kaden shook his head. “She didn’t say anything specific. Honestly, I was pretty sure this was a job for…” He paused. “I don’t know, anyone else. Not animal control necessarily. But Gar– Officer Miller insisted that we at least check it out. Mostly so he could stop taking her calls.” He probably shouldn’t be so honest with a civilian technically but it was hard to care one way or another. He wasn’t there to be a cop, he was there to get paid to do the shit he was going to do anyway: clean up supernatural messes and help animals.

“I mean, if nothing else, it smells radioactive so good enough to reason to get it out of here. Just be careful,” Kaden warned. “If there’s a nest, the thing that made it could be nearby. And I’ve never encountered an animal that doesn’t protect its nest with everything it’s got.” Same with monsters. Putain, he hoped they weren’t dealing with something supernatural but he had a feeling he wouldn’t get that lucky.

—

Strangers liked to tell Teddy things. Must’ve just had one of those faces. Open and welcoming enough that extra details just slipped through the cracks and filled the ex-demon up with sated wonder, then more questions. They caught the trip in words, and found an opening to slide inside of, stepping in time with the officer’s gait as they rounded the back of the shop. “Is that Gary or Garfeild? I know a couple Millers.” They chimed in, a cheshire smile sprouting upon their lips. “One of them is a doll, the other just loves to try and get everyone else to do his work.” C’mon officer, at least give up the hot goss.

“Don’t actually know if radiation actually has a smell. I think it’d be a lot safer if it did, but I get what you mean. I’ve been dealing with this all morning. Do you want some Vick’s?” The mentholated vapor rub just under the nose was more than enough to block out the worst of it that morning. They didn’t really get much of a chance for an answer though, as the pair exited the old maple wood door and spilled out onto the patio.

—

“You do?” Kaden said, surprised to hear Gary’s name dropped by the employee. “The first one, yeah. Gary.” He sighed at the thought of the other officer. “Look, we have a pretty good set up. I do the field work, he does the office work. It’s a win-win.” The less time Kaden had to spend chained to a desk, the better. And Gary felt the same about getting scratched, bitten, and bruised on the job. Which would be fair enough anywhere but especially in this town. It was more dangerous than most so it was probably for the best that the only one trying to control the animals and monsters around town for the WRPD was a ranger.

—

Truthfully? No. Teddy didn't know the man. But those were the first two names to come to mind with a Gah- at the beginning, and Teds was always looking for a way to push themself into anyone else's life. A messy little habit, but a fun one. “Ahh, so you're more of a man of action then? That's a pretty good foil to old Gary. At least you like what you do.” They offered a smile.

It was overgrown and blushed with flowers just starting to bloom, but beneath one of the larger bushes, sure enough the remains of a messy insectoid infestation littered the mossy stone floor. Teddy’s eyes scanned the debris, excitement growing as they realized this was so much more than mundane. Not enough to recognize the species or anything like that, only that it wasn’t any bug they’d find in a natural history museum.

—

Kaden let the employee lead the way towards the back corner of the store, the musty smell growing more and more potent as they walked. It was almost enough to drown out the smell of maple – almost.

His brows furrowed as he leaned down to examine the source of the stink. “I don’t get it,” he started, “it’s just a damn–”

The words caught in his throat as the world shifted around Kaden, like he was seeing clearly for the first time in his entire life. It was as if he finally understood his purpose, what he was meant to be doing: his duty.

It wasn’t just a damn egg, far from it. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

—

The officer squatted and Teddy alongside him, carefully prying to get a clear look at whatever–Oh. Oh goodness. That same sweep of emotion infected the ex-demon gazed upon what must have been an egg, but, no- no that was– Well, of course it was their child.

—

Out there on the patio, one quick look at the employee next to him and it was clear to Kaden that they both felt the same way. That they were going to protect this egg — no, child — with their lives. Any worry of whatever the nest might belong to had faded away. It didn’t matter who or what made the nest or what made the egg, it didn’t belong to that creature. The egg belonged to them. Kaden reached out and carefully picked it up and cradled the egg in his arms. “We should get him some place safe,” he said to the employee.

Right. He just realized they hadn’t even exchanged names. “Kaden, by the way,” he said, glancing back at thm. “My name, that is. Don’t think I said it before.” His eyes didn’t stay away from the egg for long, practically glued to the miracle he was holding in his arms. “Speaking of, he needs one.” Once again, Kaden realized he wasn’t exactly being clear. “A name, I mean.”

—

The warm fuzzies spread throughout the caster, a total shift from the nosy ruse they had built up before. None of that really mattered anymore now did it? Who had time to poke anyone for information when they had precious cargo to care for. A warm hand came up to the officer– Kaden’s back. Teddy crept in closer, inspecting the egg, carefully reaching out to stroke its surface. Something deeply buried welled up in their chest. Somewhere between pride, determination, and devotion. They knew instantly they'd do anything for their little baby. That they'd make it work with–

Teddy didn't remember having an egg with Kaden.

But it was theirs. There was no doubt. The child was theirs. And they would care for it. “Oh–” a name, of course he needed a name. “What about…” The goat was already Levi jr, so that was out of the way. Maybe name it after Emilio? Shouldn't Teddy have had an egg with Emilio? Maybe Emilio just couldn't have eggs. Maybe that's why they had to have one with Kaden. Kaden was a perfect parent, just like they'd be. “Lio?” Teddy would figure out the mess in their mind later, it didn't matter that much, not compared to taking care of the baby.

The apron was more than enough soft fabric to create a small swaddling sling, one that Teddy carefully hung around Kaden's neck, all the while softly gazing at their dear new addition. “That works if she's a girl too. Or whatever, y’know. It's so hard to tell when they're this young.”

—

Kaden didn’t know how the egg got here or why he knew it was theirs or why— Wait, what was their name? The hunter squinted as he tried to read the name tag the other person was wearing. Telly? He was pretty sure that’s what it said. Anyway, he didn’t know how Telly and he ended up being the two destined to raise this egg and keep it safe but there was no doubt in his mind that it was anything other than a fact.

“Lio?” Kaden repeated, glancing up at them for a second before his eyes zeroed back in on the child in his arms. The sling was a welcome addition, it would help him keep them close, keep them safe, and make it easier to protect them from anything in this fucked up town that so much as looked at them wrong. “That could work…” Something about the name sounded familiar. It did remind him of his home, of Lyon. That was sort of nice. Almost like a family name, then.

Although he felt like Monty should be involved with this somehow. No, that was silly, of course Monty would help raise the egg. Even if he wasn’t the parent, he’d be a great stepdad. Or something like that. Kaden wasn’t sure what the right term for him was. Maybe they should name it after him? “If they’re a girl, we could call her Anya.” It was something like Montaña – close enough, at least. Not that it mattered much one way or another. “I’m sure they’re going to be perfect no matter what,” he practically cooed as he brushed a tender hand along the egg’s surface.

“We should get them home, though.” He looked back at Telly when it struck him that he wasn’t sure what home meant at that point. “I mean, I have a cabin. It’s safe out there. But I’m sure your place is good, too. Wherever that is.”

Hold on, wasn’t Kaden supposed to be on duty? No. He was supposed to take care of the egg. Or something like that. This was part of his job, he was sure of it. At least for now. Being a working parent was going to be difficult. And Telly was on the clock, too, weren’t they? They could both make it work. “I guess we should figure out work schedules, too,” he added. “You can leave the place closed for now, right? We should get supplies on our way. This petit ange deserves the best nest in the world.” If he could look at himself objectively, Kaden would have wondered where the grin spread across his face came from, but in the moment, it felt obvious — correct, even.

—

“Anya and Lio. A shame it’s not twins.” Teddy effused maternal joy, cooing over their shared precious cargo. “Though… I guess you never know with these kinds of things. We could just go with Lianya, sort of a combo.” For the first time in a while, their eyes traveled up from the egg to the man holding it. The slightest touch of confusion wormed in, only at the strangeness of how little they knew him, and how important he obviously had to be. They both belonged to this egg, so in some way, they belonged to each other. Right? Even if just as caretakers.

Home. Right, they should get it home. Needed a nest. Needed to bundle it up with joy and fluff and all the comforts of home. “A cabin? Aren’t the woods kinda…..” Fun to run around with a slayer and take care of the more monstrous mal-doers who would for sure try and hurt the people of Wicked’s Rest, and more than that, would hurt their little baby. “I’ve got a big house on World’s End Isle, lots of empty rooms. You could stay there too. Could bring all your stuff and there’d still be room. It’ll be safe there.”

Teddy had completely forgotten about the maple goods store until Kaden brought it back up, and in all honesty, it was still the furthest thing from their mind right then. “Ah I barely work here.” Noncommittally and disaffected, Teds could not care less about the tiny too sweet smelling store. “Mostly I just temp for fun, don’t really need the money. I’ll close up while you figure out what this lil guy needs.” They curled in close while helping the man to his feet, scritching at the ‘head’ of the egg as if it were an actual humanoid infant. “We’re gonna be the best parents, no matter what.”

—

“Lianya.” Kaden ran the name over his tongue before nodding. It was a solid compromise. “I like it. What about you?” he said, cooing to the egg. “Do you like that name, Lianya?” There was no actual response but he swore the egg grew a little warmer. Or brighter. Something like that, it was a good response. He could tell.

For a moment, Kaden was offended. What was wrong with his cabin? It was perfectly safe out there. All his weapons were out there. How was he going to protect this child if the weapons were in the cabin and he was on World’s End Isle with Telly? He sighed. He couldn’t argue that the island was more secluded and probably had better defenses. “Sure, we can do that. It means we’ll have to baby-proof more rooms, though.” Did he know what that entailed for Lianya specifically? Not really. They could figure it out. “After we pick up supplies in town, we can drop them off at your place and I’ll run to mine to grab what I need there.” And by that he meant weapons.

Kaden followed behind as Telly closed up shop, gently cradling the egg and rocking it ever slightly. Nothing about this made a lot of sense if he paused to think about it but at the same time, it made all the sense in the world. The skies had cleared and his purpose was right there in front of him, right there in his arms. Kaden beamed at Telly’s words. They were going to be the best parents, no matter what. “We will be,” he assured them. “And nothing in the world will stand in our way.”

#wickedswriting #eldritchaccident #chasseurdeloup #i wont apologize for art

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funkbun · 1 year

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🌈✏️😊⌚

🌈: What journalist fur color do you usually pick?

Black or purple! Though once I edited one of the journalist colors to fit my grumpsona, Rossay, n that was fun! I still have the files, but it went away after a game update im pretty sure.

✏️: Who is your favorite Grumpus to DRAW?

answered here :V!!

😊: Give us information about your Bugsnax OC(s).

Loominbert originally got into journalism straight out of college because they thought it'll be a good n easy job to take (cause they loved the news, interviews, and learning about what's going on). After years and years of working at GNN, they realized how draining their job has been and one day they were just like "Okay I need to find a way to prove that cryptids exist so I can quit this fuckin job and spend my time chasing after weird creatures." And like… I guess that wish came true if bugsnax could be considered cryptids??? Maybe?? Some doodles of a slightly younger Loominbert, they used to know how to smile and didn't constantly look bored out of their mind lol.

⌚: What do you think some of the grumpuses were like before events? (I.e. as kids, as teens, etc)

As a kid Floofty did Not want to have a sibling. They didn't get along with other kids their age (like 5-6) so when their parents were like "Hey look you have a brother now," with Snorpy they were sooo fuckin mad. Obviously as they got older they learned to be more chill around Snorpy; even if they were still slightly annoyed about having to be an older sibling. Snorpy however always seemed to like Floofty. He would copy everything they did and thought that they were the smartest grump in the world. Like Floofty would start talking like a thesaurus and kid Snorpy would be all like "Wowwww my sibling is so smart and cool :0!!! I need to talk like that now wowww!!!" They only actually drifted apart after the whole deal with the government n stuff, and didn't talk to one another until Snaktooth (I like to think that in game Snorpy's 28 while Floofty's 33, so they hadn't talked to one another in about 5-6 years? Probably?).

Cause it feel appropriate to mention Chandlo here, Floofty and their parents felt completely neutral about Chandlo. He was the only non-familial grump who frequently visited their home, cause the Fizzlebean parents never really invited people like coworkers or friends over to their house, and Floofty Did Not get along with any of their peers. While they did sometimes think Chandlo acted to rowdy sometimes and was very impulsive, they were glad that Snorpy had someone he truly got along with. Floofty was the only one aware of Snorpy's obvious crush on Chandlo, their parents never caught on until way after Snaktooth when Snorpy reintroduced Chandlo as his boyfriend n they were like "??? This guy??? Really??? Ok???" lol

baby beans

#i draw grumplings in their ''Newly hatched ugly baby bird babything'' stage so much. here's a Pile Of Fluff snorpy grumpling #bug game #askums 2 #long post

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tf2yall · 1 year

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who do the mercs have the best friendship with? why are they friends? etc

Here you are! Apparently the tl:dr of this is that Demo is everyone's best friend (as he should be lol)

Scout

Scout doesn't get on well with a lot of his team. He thinks most of them are boring old farts, besides Demo and Pyro. (Sniper is technically the closest to him in age, but he's an honorary old fart)

Demo gets "cool" status in Scout’s mind because he doesn't mind engaging in whatever nonsense Scout wants to get up to. He also has a lot of cool stories about Scotland and magic and weird mythological creatures and Scout could listen to him for hours.

If he's not hanging out with Demo, he's probably with Pyro. They draw together, watch TV, and read comics. It's also not uncommon to find Scout and Pyro huddled together, burning shit.

Scout also has a kind of brotherly bond with Sniper. They both go out of their way to be annoying little shits to each other (Scout will tease Sniper about looking like he's 40, Sniper will put giant spiders in his room, etc). They are close tho and are kinda ride or die about each other, despite the fact that they're constantly on each other's nerves

Soldier

Soldier gets along best with Demo. Specifically the other team's Demo. For some reason same team Soldier-Demo pairs never work out. They find each other boring?? Despite the fact that they're essentially carbon copies of each other?? Oh well...

Their mutual love of explosions and 'boys will be boys' vibes help them gel really well! They have a tendency to be really fucking stupid together but hey respawn exists and they're having fun so just let 'em be.

Because they're on opposite teams, their relationship is a bit different than the other friendships. When they're on the battlefield, the match is essential just one big friendly competition. They're always trying to one-up each other with new gear or who can wear the most ridiculous hat to work contests. They hang out a lot outside of work too, going fishing, to gun shows, alcohol tastings, and whatever else they happen to find fun at the moment.

On his own team, Soldier gets on best with Pyro. They're one of the few who has the patience to put up with him for long and he's made it his mission to instruct Pyro in the ways of a true American soldier! This usually means lighting things on fire and using Spy as target practice.

Pyro

Pyro is okay with pretty much everyone. They like Scout and Soldier's high energy. Demo shares their love of fire/explosives. Heavy can match their level of enjoyment at being on the front line destroying everything. Engineer and Medic like to ramble to them while they're working. And Spy lets them hang out in his smoking room when they're overstimulated or tired. He does get cranky if Pyro burns stuff tho

Sniper is absolutely deathly terrified of Pyro. Pyro knows this and thinks it's hilarious. They will go out of their way to freak Sniper out just cause they think it's funny. They have been yelled at (multiple times) for chasing poor Sniper up a tree with a flamethrower.

Pyro likes everyone but they're closest with Scout and Engineer. Scout occasionally brings them shit to burn just for fun. Medic and Engineer keep confiscating Pyro's lighters. Spy is an absolute nuisance tho and is absolutely thrilled to supply Pyro with more. Usually on the condition that Pyro will stare ominously at Sniper while flicking them on and off

Pyro likes to spend time with their friends, but only in small doses. They'll spend an hour or two with someone before going to hang out with someone else or just leaving to be alone for a while.

Demo

Demo is everyone's best friend/drinking buddy/confidante. He's just genuinely one of those guys that gets on with everyone and whom everyone likes.

He does spend a lot of time with Scout and he definitely views himself as kind of a mentor to him. He is, however, never going to trust Scout with any kind of explosive or flammable substance. Bad things happen when Scout has flammable things.

People seem to forget that Demo's smart? Like, you need to know a lot about chemical reactions to not blow yourself up. Spends a lot of time with Engie and Medic, bouncing ideas off each other. That being said, he is considerably less "mad scientist" than the other two and is more likely to dip when they start getting REALLY weirdly into it (ex: cutting engie's arm off for shits and giggles)

Likes to just drink and vibe with Sniper too. He's one of the few people Sniper actually likes

Heavy

Heavy and Medic get along great. I feel like that's a really obvious answer lol but its true. (Altho they may or may not be more than friends) They share a love of classical literature and old music, although Medic tends to get a little heated when they discuss the themes of their reading. Not uncommon for the bonesaw to come out.

Heavy is mostly a loner and is very introverted. He does have times where he enjoys loud noises and destruction and doing things as part of a team, but he always knows when he's pushing too far and he needs to step away. A lot of his energy is spent on the battlefield so he tends to pass most of his free time alone. (I seem to have given Heavy my autism oops)

Besides Medic, Heavy is closest with Spy. It's nice to talk to someone in his native language and Spy also shares his interests in things like chess and poetry.

Probably finds the louder members of his team (Scout, Soldier) too much sometimes and tries not to spend a lot of time with them if he's already stressed. Altho it's not like he hates them. If he's in a certain mood he will totally 100% blow up buildings with Soldier

Engineer

Close to all the members of his team in wildly differing ways. Some of them, like Sniper, he has a very chill workplace relationship with. Others he has a more familial relationship to

Has a tendency to keep an eye on Scout, sometimes unconsciously. Will notice if something's up with him and give him someone to talk to. Scout does eventually come to look up to him as a kind of fatherly figure. Spy has mixed feelings about this.

A very private, yet still sociable man. His teammates only really know superficial details about him. He's very easy to talk to and has definitely acquired enough blackmail to put the whole team out of business. It's a good thing he just straight up doesn't care.

The closest thing he has to a friend on the team is Medic. If you can call getting drunk and sawing off your arm on a whim fun friendship bonding behavior

Medic

Medic is friends with anyone who even vaguely humors him. You want to talk?? With him??? About medical things??? Congratulations, you're never ever getting rid of him.

Most people tend to find him off-putting and creepy and he pretends like it doesn't bother him, but it really kinda does. He spent a large portion of life not having any friends so he tends to get very very excited and into his friendships. Loves his job partly because he gets to ignore all known laws (like he's definitely committing war crimes lets be real here) but also because he finally found people who get him.

He vibes best with Heavy because Medic really needs someone to be a good listener to him. However, he also needs them to be smart or he'll get frustrated with them and just stop talking to them. He likes having someone to debate with and experiment on with

Second best is Engie because hey fellow mad scientist!! Look, Medic just wants someone he can talk to about the things that he loves. And what he loves happens to be crimes against humanity

Spy

This is going to sound really REALLY weird but like: it's Soldier. Now hear me out here. Spy has a hard time trusting people and believing that they're not up to something, so the perso he's automatically going to trust the most is the guy that's shit at lying and is too stupid to be hiding anything.

Like many members of the team, he's a loner and prefers to spend time by himself. Does like to spend time with Heavy tho. Fine wine and overly fancy conversation is a must. Spy likes to be a snob, what else can i say

He is not immune to Demo's powers of being everyone's best friend. Demo is Spy's go-to person to bitch to when the other team members are getting on his nerves.

Spy pretends like he's above childish pranks and petty revenge but he's not. He's really really not. Demo knows this. Demo encourages this. Demo is part of the reason why all of Scout’s socks mysteriously turned pink.

Sniper

Doesn't get on with Medic, Pyro, or Spy for various reasons. Has occasionally been known to have a coffee with Engie but the two don't really have a lot in common. Neither do him and Soldier.

Likes hanging out with Heavy a bit more than his other team members. They both have a shared love of hunting and guns, although that is where their similarities end.

Probably vibes best with Demo. Demo's chill enough to make Sniper relax and they have a similar sense of humor, so even if their hobbies don't match up sometimes, they still enjoy talking to each other. They like to sit outside and swap stories about their adventures, Demo's with weird mythical creatures, and Sniper's time in the outback.

It's a shame that he's terrified of Pyro because they really would get along :( They both love to display their friendship with parallel play and they both think weird bugs are really cool

#tf2 #scout #soldier #pyro #demo #heavy #engineer #engie #medic #sniper #spy

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