#not archived content

[dapper-deoxys]

Yo where do you get all the whatever question speaking things of mxbones from, like their account is gone last time I checked, (not to be offensive I sound like it)

I basically just go through old posts on different blogs related to their stuff along the way, either by sheer coincidence or I just go to my art archive blog (@rebornicartchive) to see which blogs have reblogged the posts previously! Don't worry, I don't think your being offensive.

[weaselweaselweasel]

What do you mean Tim doesn’t stay alive and well and happy and silly and funny and alive forever WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNNN

[lowpolyanimals]

Cat from Old School RuneScape by Logg from RuneScape Archive

[merlins-art]

Pathetic podcast protagonist is such a male dominated industry

Petition for more women to be pathetic podcast protagonists. Like yes queen, experience the horrors

[transformativeworks]

TOS Spotlight: Non-fanworks

The Policy & Abuse committee is posting a weekly spotlight series explaining some of the most common violations of the #AO3 Terms of Service. This week's spotlight is on non-fanworks. Read more at: https://otw-news.org/2p85b7np

[boomposhpow]

who let them do this

[madootles]

college jons

[spookyspeks]

Pretty Jon rights

Speedpaint:

Please check out the speedpaint! It also has an announcement, as my channel is pretty dead these days but I'm planning on doing more with it, so I'd really appreciate some traction!

[dapper-deoxys]

Jumpscare seeing this blog in my notes for the first time damn near had a flashback 💀 glad that some of my reblogs helped archive what was left of the original au, not sure wtf is being done with it these days

Ahhh man, the Pilot story was cancelled in 2019, and a new webcomic replaced it because Volt (Rebornica,) hated their story and stuff. All I'm gonna say about it, aside from the fact that almost every character is getting redesigned.

[vickozone]

Sunshine and a Lollipop

Tim and Sasha my beloveds

[agnes-come-back-challenge]

I love that everyone in TMA is just. Unremarkable. Jon isnt a heroic character; he's self-loathing and depressed and he exhibits the same self-pity as I do when I'm self-loathing and depressed. He doesn't stand out for his strength of will or quick-thinking or virtue. He's a good person but he stops trying to stay human when it gets uncomfortable. He's everything that a regular person is when theyre trapped in a horrible situation and it's ugly and insufferable and Real.

[galahadwilder]

Can you imagine how bizarre the “sorry for not updating sooner” notes on Adrien’s AO3 works must be?

[stompmeharder]

gay people in my phone

[transformativeworks]

TOS Spotlight: Ratings & Warnings

The Policy & Abuse committee is posting a weekly spotlight series explaining some of the most common violations of the AO3 Terms of Service. This week's spotlight is on ratings and Archive warnings. Read more at: https://otw-news.org/4suxye7p

[slutla]

CURSED ALLEY ! | SINISTER MARK X FEM READER

warnings: 18+, dark content, dubious consent, objectification, power imbalance, hate sex kinda, unhygienic (?), blood, biting, mark threatens to eat u, like literally. choking, reader hates him n he loves it. he’s rlly cocky, breeding, public sex (?)

summary: you try to break free from his grasp, but the harder you pull, the tighter it coils around you, like he knew you’d resist, and planned for it.

an: minors ageless & blank blogs dni. ty mimi 4 da idea ily. bare w me on the dialogue, he only had like 2 lines in the show </3

This place swarms with vermin, thriving in its decay. It’s putrid and vile. you wish you had buried those thoughts deep, swallowed them whole, and just dealt with that maniac instead of playing the fool. Maybe it got to your head, actually. Ever since you turned into the star of this deranged game, you thought he might soften, that your punishment wouldn’t be as brutal. Maybe, just maybe, he’d grant you an easy death.

But mercy clearly isn’t in this fucking lunatic’s nature. Mark—or as they call him, Sinister Mark—is ruthless, a nasty, grimy psycho who clings to you like a parasite, feeding on your energy and siphoning the very essence of your strength and joy.

You’re pressed up against the alley wall—filthy, dark, and shaking. Honestly, you wish more than anything that he’d just put you out of your misery, but you know he won’t. He enjoys this, watching your face contort in pain, taking his time, dragging it out. That’s why he’s kept you alive for so long, right? You’re nothing more than a measly doll, something to entertain him when he’s bored, empty his balls when he’s desperate. It makes you fucking sick.

His hand rests around your throat, light, almost gentle—like he has no intention of hurting you. But you know better. You’ve been at his mercy too many times to fall for the act. You know this man like the back of your hand, and this? This is just the calm before the storm.

“Pathetic. Desperately pathetic,” he sneers, a smug grin stretching across his face—one you’d give anything to wipe off with your fists. He tightens his grip around your throat—slightly. Just enough to remind you who’s in control.

“You consistently try to fight against me, disobey me, Maybe I’ve gotten too soft on you?” His voice is mocking, laced with amusement, but his eyes tell a different story—cold, calculating, hungry. You glare at him, and it only makes him chuckle a low, condescending sound. You’re like a mouse trying to act tough between the teeth of a cat, all bark and no bite.

“What?” he taunts, tilting his head slightly to the side. “You’ve gotten bold, huh? Is that it? You think just ‘cause I’ve fucked my load into ‘ya a couple of times, I’ll go easy on you?”

His grip tightens enough to make your breath hitch, his smirk widening at the sight. “That’s real cute.”He fucking loves this—you, a wreck, lip split and oozing red, shoved against the wall like some stray mutt too dumb to run. The cold’s got you trembling in his grip, tight enough to bruise, and those hard little peaks poking through your shirt? Shit’s got him sporting a boner in his pants, straining against the fabric like it’s pissed off too. You scowl up at him, eyes flashing wet with hate, spitting some smartass jab that’s half-snarl, half-whimper. That’s the kicker—those venomous little words dripping from your bloody mouth just setting him off, making his cock twitch in pants. He yanks his hand off your throat, spinning you fast. Your tits smash into the brick, ass grinding against his already oozing cock.

“Better view now.” he mutters, breathing hot on your neck. “Gonna have to fuck that fight outta you,” he continues, lips brushing your ear. “Pound that tight little cunt till you’re drooling on my dick—too dumb to even hiss back. That’s what you need?” You’d never admit it but his words send heat straight to your womb, your pussy is practically shaped like his cock already and when he uses you, he wants you dripping, drooling sloppily all over him.

Mark’s dark eyes rake over you, zeroing in on the way your spine arches—fuck, it’s perfect, bending like it was carved just for him, dipping into the swell of your ass. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t play gentle—his fingers hook into your pants and underwear, yanking them down in one rough tug. The outdoor air slams into you, a cold snap kissing your bare pussy, and you shiver hard, instinct kicking in as your body jolts under his stare.

He’s smirking, that insufferable cunt, lips twitching like he’s won something. The wind whistles low through the city, but all you hear is the thud of your own pulse and the way his breath hitches when he sees you—exposed, trembling. “Look at you,” he mutters, voice gravelly, thick with want as his hands grip your hips, fingers digging into flesh like he’s staking a claim.

Mark’s eyes catch it—the slick shine dripping from you, pussy puffy and aching, not some dainty little ache but a raw, greedy pull. “Fuckin’ mess down there.” he says, sharp and dry, no trace of play in his tone, like he’s stating a fact.

“Slutty hole,” Mark snarls, voice thick with grit, “‘s just practically pleading to be filled raw.” You moan, all high and whiny, a sound so nasty it’s practically dripping off your lips, and he’s done waiting—his fat cock slides in, thick and heavy, plunging into your sloppy, squelching cunt with a wet schlick that echoes. juices splatter, a mix of your slick and his pre-cum sloshing out, your hole clutching him like it’s starving, gushing around his shaft as he rams it deep, balls smacking your ass with a lewd, sticky slap.

Loud, shameless moans rip out of you, spilling from your lips with every wet smack of his balls slapping against your ass—raw and relentless, the sound bouncing off the two walls that seclude you both. You’re squirming, thrashing in his grip, hips twitching as his rough hands work your sore, swollen clit, rubbing it fast and brutal, fingers slick with your mess. He’s pissed—you can feel it in the sharp huff he lets out, the way his jaw tightens—and his free hand flies to your throat, clamping down hard. “Stop fuckin’ movin’, you dumb whore,” he sneers, lips curling into a nasty smirk, “‘fore I rip a limb off you ‘n eat it.” Your body instantly locks, all power given to him. He’s not bluffing—you’ve seen him do it, blood on his teeth and all, tearing into others like it’s nothing.

Tears spill from your pretty eyes, streaking down your face, born from the jagged mix of terror and that sick, drowning pleasure twisting through you. Your tits scrape raw against the rough brick wall, stinging with every shove, while his hands pin you there—unyielding, cruel. He catches the tiny, pitiful kitten sobs hiccuping out of you, and his lips twist. “Awe, you’re cryin’?” he mocks, voice dripping with fake pity, and it pisses you off, heat flaring in your chest. Then his teeth sink into your neck—hard, tearing skin, blood trickling—and you flinch-yell, a sharp, ragged cry that nearly makes him bust right there, his cock twitching like he’s feral for it.

That bubbling churn hits your guts, familiar and hot, as his fat tip keeps bullying your throbbing walls, smashing in deep, relentless. His cream-slicked length vanishes into your squelching, messy cunt with every frantic, desperate thrust—using you like his own personal fleshlight, like you were carved out of the universe just for him to fuck. “‘S fuckin’ amazing,” he laughs, all breathy and rough, that stupid, hot edge to his voice, “pussy’s just swallowing me up—shit, it’s like you’re beggin’ to get knocked up.”

All you can do is moan and mewl, pathetic little noises spilling out like some bitch in heat, his cock bullying you mercilessly—stretching you open, pounding you raw. His grip clamps tighter, fingers bruising your skin, and then he groans, rough and guttural, voice scraping the air. It hits—thick, gooey ropes of cum shooting out, hot and heavy, flooding your womb white. You clench hard around him, thighs quaking, shaking like you’re falling apart, leaving a messy, creamy ring circling his dick. He pulls out slow, leaving your pussy gaping, a wrecked, dripping hole—combined cum leaking sloppy down your thigh, pooling in a sticky trail.

He stares, eyes dark and glinting, picturing you swollen with his kid, that pretty body all round and full—fuck, it’d look good on you. A low laugh rumbles out of him, abs flexing as he smirks, half-breathless. Maybe down the line. He thinks. You’re stuck here, pinned under him for the long haul—he’s not letting you go anywhere, not when you’re this pretty, this perfect for him.