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#rory's rambles
rickhunolt · 11 months
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I GOT THE TATTOO
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rory-moment · 1 year
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ok something i genuinely do not understand is why people can't just let people identify with what feels right. as long as its not genuinely harming anyone what's wrong with it??? whatever makes them happy makes them happy im a dysphoric transmasc creature and like,,, im ok if ur non-dysphoric like gender euphoria is also so important and just using what feels RIGHT and makes you HAPPY isn't hurting anyone?? like i just. do not get it LMAO. i feel like it isn't just the autism this time
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frontierpodiatrist · 1 year
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scarvio kids age hcs
i'm just gonna post these bc it's driving me crazy seeing ppl call arven 14 when he says he's about to graduate or acting like there's a 5 year gap b/w him and nemona (???) and i need to put them somewhere
protag/juliana/florian: approx u.s. high school freshman age, so i think 14-15. arven calls them little buddy and then also refers to himself as their older brother in jp so i think they're definitely the youngest of the group, and treated as such (also the shortest. lol. tiny ass)
penny: approx u.s. high school sophomore age, so 15-16. she's in the same grade as the protagonist as stated at the beginning, but in jp it implied she's doing over a year + she took a gap year in galar, so it just makes sense she'd be a year older than them
nemona: now her, could be anywhere from 16-18, i think, personally i see her as being in high school junior year, so 16-17, but i don't think she's any younger than arven than 2 years at the most (given the fact he mostly treats her like an equal, while treating mc as like a kid), so i adjust her age accordingly. yes she's in the same class as the protag, however these classes are interspersed with obviously kids of all ages, and it doesn't say she's ever in your grade also she's student council president and highly involved in extracurricular activities (and already received a starter from clavell + did the gym circuit apparently the year before) so she has to be somewhat established at this school
arven: anywhere from 17-19. i believe he's senior age given the fact he states he should be graduating soon if not for the fact he's missing a lot of credits. which, speaking of which, i believe it's highly likely that he also flunked a year like penny, so it's likely he's probably more towards 18-19, having missed a year of school (and with what clavell said. he's probably gonna miss another! this bitch is not graduating until he is 20. rip.)
and onto the star bosses, according to indigo disk they haven't flunked a year (yet, APPARENTLY) so:
giacomo: i believe he is a year younger than nemona so anywhere from 15-17
ortega: real gifted child ass energy who's had everything handed to him on a silver platter, BUT he says he's a second year (hilarious) so i guess he's 16. short ass LMAOOOO
eri: the oldest of the star crew based on how she talks to them all in a sort of Mom Voice, she's probably arven's age if not slightly younger, but about the same age as arven, probs 18
mela: i think anywhere from high school sophomore to junior so 15-17
atticus: same as mela and giacomo, anywhere from 15-17
onto blueberry now:
kieran: according to french translation he's 14, so yeah he's 14-15 around the same age as the protagonist
carmine: given her dialogue about "teenage angst" irt kieran and implying multiple times she's past puberty + acts like she isn't a teenager, i assume she's probably 20 or like at minimum 18+
drayton: like 20, he's a super super senior (kind of. flunked second year like 3 times? they never mention any years beyond second so i have no idea how this school system works)
lacey: second-year, so...? i assume 17 probably? 16?
crispin: i assume a bit younger based on his appearance and how he acts, probably 16
amarys: given that it seems most of them are upperclassmen, i'd wager she's also 17 or maybe 18/around the same age as lacey
aaaand that's all folks !
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ofcowardiceandkings · 2 months
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aw look now they both have fursonas :'3
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i just wanted to finish colouring something for the first time in um ...
so it was this shitty joke im sorry it isnt even funny it was better in my head djskjfdk GOD ... the effort for so little pay off
except maybe these outfits, theyre cute >:3
anyway your honor i love them
i cant believe the first time ive drawn the light dragon is for this shit
un-shrinked and un-distorted doodles under the cut, i promise the two bottom ones are just joke versions of other sketches lmfao
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its been years since ive drawn Wolf Link oh man what a blast from the past !! s/o to alttp bunny ... also, light dragon my beloved ;____;
but yeah, the two there are modified silly versions of .. other sketches
which i will finish
sometime
eventually
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Shout out to this very specific hand movement Thad does a lot
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He’s so adhd I love how he talks with his hands. I want to i want to hold his hands. i want to kiss the backs of his hands like he’s a prince and im being graced with his presence.
I mean WOAAAH WHO SAID THAT
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agent-resurgam · 9 months
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Splatoon devs will make a weapon that will fill you with the burning rage of 12 gods & name it the Splorpledorper
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kausstar · 3 months
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somebody: stop fantasizing about those men.
me: i’m not fantasizing, that’s my man. there’s nothing to fantasize about because that’s my man.
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I know you wrote for Kappa/Euro. Hear me out.. could you write for Euro/Dead from lords of chaos? No one writes for jack kilmer and it drives me insane‼️😭
Pure Fucking Armaggedon
Summary: In the midst of a heavy night of partying with the Black Circle, you crave your boyfriend's attention but just like so often lately, he's very much not interested, leading you to meet your needs somewhere else…
Pairing: Dead x fem!Reader x Euronymous
Word Count: ~3.7k
Content Warnings: Trve Kvlt Smvt 18+!, Talk About Depression/Mental Illness, Talk About Self-Harm, Very Angsty, Hurt/Comfort...ish, Alcohol, Smoking, Cheating…But With A Twist, Fingering, Unprotected P In V, Creampie, Pet Names
A/N: Hi, anonnie! Thank you very much for this ask <3 Before everybody jumps into my inbox about Jack Kilmer: Please don’t, okay? He’s not tickling my brain like Rory does and I’d hate to let y’all down by having requests sitting in my inbox collecting dust 🖤 However, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having a lot of fun writing this chaos!
Massive thanks to @spookyorchid for endlessly entertaining my rambles and inspiring me!
Disclaimer: This is solely based on the characters depicted in Lords Of Chaos!
Tagging the horny horde:
@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @lifelessvessel @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222 @kristennero-wallacewellsver @iiheartsai @fan-goddess @shady-the-simp
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Could you stomach it anymore
Could you stand to be a breath away
Can you feel the way your face distorts
Did you think that it could be this way
- Stomach It By Crywolf
Your upper lip twitched a little as your gaze darted right into your boyfriend's chestnut-coloured eyes. In a rather stark contrast to yours, Pelle's expression was indifferent whilst he stared back at you, face smeared with a now gray amalgamation of once black and white corpse paint.
"Sorry…" He muttered, his voice lacking the depth and sympathy to really sell his point.
"No…it's, it's okay, really. It makes no sense to pressure yourself when you're not in the mood, no." You shrugged your shoulders at him, very much meaning what you said whilst you still felt that massive rock of repeated disappointment settling down in your stomach.
"I'm gonna go grab another beer then…can I get you something?" Pelle shook his head lightly.
"No, but thanks. I think I should just go to sleep now." The Swede with the long blonde hair allowed himself to slump deeper down into the old, worn out sofa, crossing his arms in front of his chest and with that not just verbally but also physically blocking you out.
"Nighty then…" You mumbled, turning away from your boyfriend to hide just how hard you fought to keep your composure.
Neither the heavy leather jacket, the edgy metal studs and spikes all over nor your trusty Darkthrone shirt hugging your torso were able to shield you from the emotional hurt raging inside of you. It's been months since Pelle last touched or so much as kissed you on the mouth. You knew just fine that something wasn't alright with him, that he was going through an episode again and the last thing you intended on doing was putting any blame for that on him but fuck was it challenging you this time. It didn't go past you how the I love you's had become more and more scarce, how he turned his back to you at night whilst you stared at the ceiling hoping for the oncoming episode to wash over him in a few, swift weeks but his current black hole of depression was unlike anything before. You hardly recognised your boyfriend anymore and felt like nothing but an accessory to the whole band persona he'd put up to cover up how much he was actually hurting on the inside.
To not come off as a soft, little crybaby to everybody else, you stifled your breath and wiped the emerging gush of tears from your lower lash line as fast as you could before making your way out to the densely crowded yard again. Empty bottles of beer lined the way whilst partially smoked-up cigarettes laid scattered all over, the heavy smell of a raging bonfire filled the crisp night breeze. Whilst almost violently looking to the ground to avoid anybody seeing you being about to burst into tears, you rushed to one of the cooling boxes to grab a beer or preferably something stronger. A sense of recklessness washed through you as you dug a deeply green, still halfway full glass bottle from the cooler. Jägermeister would serve you just fine right now.
Armed with the strong booze, you went right back into the house, hiding yourself away from all the action to simply get drunk in peace and solitude.
"Ugh…" Your whole body quivered as the herbal liquor shot down your throat, drenching your mouth in its bitter taste.
Right after the sensation eased up a little, you chased the first swig with a second, deeper one, the alcohol burning its way through your stomach before you'd even reached the corner of the house that could be described as a guest room to slump down on an array of dusty mattresses. With the intense warmth of heavy liquor washing through your body, you curled yourself up, shoving an old pillow underneath your head and before you really realized it, vagrant, quiet tears trickled from the corners of your eyes, pooling at the tear duct to eventually swap over the bridge of your nose. If you were honest with yourself, you felt sick of it, sick of being ignored and pushed away but at the same time you just couldn't bring yourself to point the finger at Per. He simply didn't choose this way of being and feeling yet it felt like he wasn't even trying anymore…which, again, would just be another symptom. You sighed in defeat before treating yourself to another numbing mouthful of booze.
Allowing the tears to just run down your face at their very own pace, you simply wanted to get drunk as fast as possible but even that wouldn't be granted to you, a gentle knock on the slightly ajar door pulling you from your thoughts.
"Huh?" You muttered, sitting up straight again and wiping the wetness from your cheeks.
"Hey…are you okay?" The familiar voice belonging to Øystein asked.
His head peaked through the open door, a messy bunch of black hair framing his face in wavy strands.
"Saw you rushing through the yard and thought checking up on you wouldn't hurt…" He slid his lean statue through the small opening, stepping towards you before crouching down to meet your gaze.
"See? That's part of the problem…you, you care and Pelle just…he just sits there." The words blubbered out of you in an uncontrolled rush accompanied by a new surge of hot tears.
"Hey now…", Euronymous quickly sat down, tucking the frizzy hair behind his ears, "What's going on, hm?"
"I'm so sick of this shit, Øystein… I can't help him, I can't fix him and he just pushes me away time and time again. I'm so done with this bullshit." It practically gushed out of your mouth in a poorly choked-back wail.
"There's a whole horde of people out there, Euro, yet I feel so terribly fucking lonely all the time. Everybody's cheering for Mayhem and for Dead, going on about how fucking cool and true he is for what he's doing to himself on stage but you know what?", You tried to stifle your shaky breaths, "It's not cool. None of it. It's actually fucking terrifying…and it's me who's got to stitch him back to gether every damn time."
With every one of your words, Øystein's eyes widened a little more, partly in understanding about just how much his friend was dragging you through but also in plain sympathy for you.
"Come'ere, yeah? C'mon…if it helps you can squeeze me as hard as you want to, okay?" Euronymous spread both his arms, inviting you in for a tight hug.
Not wasting a second thought on it, you leaned in, wrapping your shaking hands around his shoulders to squeeze and press as tightly as you could.
"There you go…that's it, right there." Euronymous encouraged you, the palms of his broad hands resting at the back of your head to soothe you with gentle pets and strokes.
"I wish I could help you but none of us really gets through to him anymore…I'm so sorry." Øystein sighed into the curve of your neck, the tip of his nose almost touching the cold, black leather of your jacket.
"I don't even know what's going on with him anymore. Everything is just so terribly wrong and I don't know how much longer I can do this shit, Euro, I really don't." You sniffled, inevitably having the vastly different scent of Euronymous right in front of you sneaking up into your nostrils.
Unlike Pelle, he smelled like stale cigarette smoke, cheap aftershave and beer…maybe not exactly a crowd pleaser but you found comfort in it.
"It's okay. I don't judge you." He whispered to you in a soft tone and it threatened to break you apart from the inside.
"Thank you…", You croaked into his hair, your voice getting weaker with every letter, "I feel so shitty for thinking about it like that but…but I'm so goddamn tired. I-...I just wanna feel loved again."
"To remind you…there's a whole horde of people out there who love you." He tried to cheer you up but ultimately missed the point.
"Not…not like that. Ugh, I sound stupid…" You felt the need to take the words straight back and to just go with Øystein's attempt of calming you.
"No, you don't, seriously.", Euronymous led his fingers to get lost in your hair, fingertips softly stroking across your scalp down to the nape of your neck, "I can't imagine how you came up with enough energy to stay this long in the first place. We both know it's not his fault, neither is it yours or mine but we've all been watching you breaking away because of him. You're not smiling anymore, not screaming your lungs out at the gigs, you're barely even here anymore…he's eating you up."
"I can't just leave, Øystein…" You gradually loosened your death grip around his torso to lean back, your face wet with slowly subsiding tears.
"I know…all I'm saying is that it might be time to think about yourself a little more. It won't help anybody if you get lost in his chaos, too." Before you could raise your own hand to wipe the sleeve of your jacket across your face, Euronymous was already on it, his thumb brushing over your cheek.
Whilst taking a deep breath to steady yourself a bit more, the two of you just stared at each other for a moment. You followed how he slightly grinded his teeth together, jaws clenching, withholding something you couldn't quite decipher.
"Øystein?" You furrowed your brows a little, the feeling of something being violently off ebbing through your chest.
"I'm sorry…" That's all he offered to you before cupping your face with the full length of his palm and leaning in to press an anything but timid kiss to your trembling lips.
A part of you, the voice of reason within, practically screamed at you to pull away, to scurry back and to let this go down as nothing but an awkward, boozy, little slip-up, but you didn't move by just an inch as the pungent taste of smoked cigarettes and cheap beer swept into your mouth alongside Euronymous' daring tongue. You simply let it happen, allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth and intoxicate you with the dangerously addictive feeling of being wanted, desired by someone.
"Fuck…" You groaned into the nearly bruising kiss, hands reaching out to claw at his utterly worn out Venom shirt to pull him closer to you.
Catching the notion that he had dared to make the right move at the right time, Øystein's palm left your face, both hands roaming over your back down to your ass to simply scoop you into his lap, your legs wrapping themselves around the cold of his bullet-shell belt as the hem of your washed-out, gray denim skirt rode up generously over your fishnet-stocking covered thighs.
"I got you…just hold on to me." Euronymous muttered, trying to catch his breath a little whilst his fingers dug themselves into the curve of your behind, causing you to whine out as you arched your hips impossibly close towards his crotch.
The aching need to feel just something again practically pulsed through every nerve ending and every muscle, pulling you into his tight grasp and for your hands to slip under the soft fabric of his shirt, skin against skin leaving you to crave more. Whilst one of his hands left it's place cupping your ass to hurry down between your bodies, awkwardly fumbling with the buckle of his belt before almost violently pulling down the zipper, a short but heavy pang of guilt jolted through your ribcage, nearly causing you to flinch on the spot. Nothing about this situation at hand was right or somehow, in some crooked way, justifiable to you and yet you made not a single move to stop any of it from happening. You didn’t grasp for Øystein's hand as it hushed from his unzipped pants amidst your legs, the sound of your tights tearing and ripping thundering in your ears, right before curious fingertips brushed over thin lace panties, no. The only reaction it pulled from your body was a needy moan.
"Right there, yeah?" You heard the smirk in his tone without even needing to see it.
Nodding softly, you placed your mouth back onto his, teeth teasingly grazing over his bottom lip.
"Bet that feels even better, babe." At first you didn't know what struck you harder, the endearing pet name or Euronymous' fingers snaking past your slip, dipping right into your soaked folds to draw achingly slow circles around your entrance.
"Please…" You hummed into the kiss, your forehead leaning against his.
"Please, what?", He inquired, fingertips prodding and nudging against your cunt, "Want me to fill you up, no? Such a greedy little thing."
You choked back a whine as Øystein withdrew his hand from your slip to shove the fabric to the side, fingers freeing his rock-hard cock from the confines of his shorts right before thrusting into you with a precise rock of his hips against yours.
"Oh, fuck…" Your moan got lost in his mouth, the delicious feeling of being stretched out so harshly rippling through you.
"How long has it been, huh?" He pushed, drilling himself into you until it threatened to hurt.
"I dunno…four months, maybe five." You couldn't stop your eyes from fluttering shut, the burning heat of arousal and shame creeping into your face in equal parts.
"Yeesh, couldn't leave a girl like you untouched for that long." Euronymous huffed, his other hand steadying your posture with his palm flat against your back as he started rolling his hips, practically bouncing you on his cock.
With your entire body flush with the sensation of Øystein spearheading into you in a firm pace, the last bit of your coherent brain busy muffling and holding back desperate mewls and whimpers, you rendered completely oblivious to what was happening around you…unlike the black-haired guitarist. From the very corner of his eyes, Øystein's attention got pulled towards the semi-open door, the old, wooden floor in front of it creaking treacherously. Just by the way a well familiar pair of thoroughly worn out combat boots barely peaked across the lines of the door frame, he knew that the both of you had been caught right in the act but he didn't so much as even bother to stop from guiding you up and down his throbbing hard on.
"You at least got yourself off here and there, no?" You shook your head.
"Didn't feel right. I- I just hoped things would get back to normal…" You groaned, the sensation of Euronymous' cock stroking over that extra sensitive spot inside of you sending cold, little shivers down your spine.
"Oh, love, then I better make sure to give it to you better than Per ever could…lazy fucker." Øystein scoffed more to his friend and singer hiding next to the door frame than to you but you didn't take any notice of that, your senses way too busy with just keeping it together.
For a moment, Øystein felt actual and very real rage gushing through him. Anger towards his friend for being such an oblivious prick regarding the suffering and all-round neglect he was dragging you through. It was a terribly self-righteous emotion, that he knew for sure, however, he couldn't help himself but to let it fuel the way he rutted into you, burying himself as deep as possible inside of your wet pussy.
The rather morbid thing both of you failed to take notice of was what Dead was doing hidden away in the shadows of the hallway, the crushing humiliation not only going straight to his heart but to his awfully throbbing cock as well, the bitter-sweet masochistic rush leading him to palm himself through his trousers whilst biting down on his fist to not let just one singular sound escape from his twitching lips. The Swede was shamelessly jerking himself off to you getting railed by his closest friend.
"Gonna take good care of you, babe." Øystein groaned in a lust-riddled tone, both of his hands now closing down around your hips to hammer your form onto his cock with every jut and snap of his hips.
It had you bashfully nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, the cigarette smoke soaked leather of his jacked cold against your cheek, whilst you still clawed at his sides underneath his shirt.
Your fingers dug into his skin as you felt your walls starting to flutter and contract around Øystein's hard on, the first crushing jolts of your pent-up orgasm rippling through your body, senses being sent into blissful overdrive.
"Good girl…fuck, pulling me in so hard now, huh?" Euronymous' voice cracked and eventually faltered just like the rolls of his lap against yours.
"Issok…", He talked you through your release, shoving himself balls deep into your spasming cunt before flooding your insides with white-hot ropes of his seed, a guttural groan ripping itself free from the depths of his lungs, "Just let yourself go. I gotchu."
The earth-shattering sensation of all the pent-up sexual desperation mixed in with shame and crushing guilt washing through your system had you biting down on his leather-clad shoulder, a fresh surge of tears threatening to swap over your lower lash line at any second.
"Aw, shit." A sore croak from outside the room led both of you to turn your heads so suddenly that it nearly gave you whiplash.
"The fuck?!" You shrieked out, practically jumping from Øystein's lap whilst he was equally busy with tucking himself back in and getting off the mattress.
"I got this!" Euronymous tried to calm you, awkwardly stumbling away from you before tearing the door open and vanishing into the dark hallway.
For a split second your overworked synapses tried to get a vague grasp on what was going down. Feet were hammering down stairs, noisy commotion erupted from inside the house before the sound of shattering glass and incomprehensible screaming and shouting filled the yard.
"Oh fuck no…" You huffed under your breath, wobbly legs nearly giving out as you tried to pull yourself from the mattress.
As soon as you stood upright again, you felt Øystein's load oozing out of you, soaking the flimsy fabric of your slip with every step you took. You dreaded the scenario that was unfolding outside because the yelling didn't seem to die down but much rather escalate further.
"You fucking traitor!" Pelle's raspy voice cut through the night air, hitting you as soon as you slid out the front door.
"Fucking traitor?!", Øystein spat right back whilst your eyes scanned the scenery anxiously, "You're the spineless loser, Per!"
"You fucked my girlfriend, Øystein!" Dead yelled and with his words you noticed Metallion and Jan Axel staring right at you, nothing but drunk confusion washing over their faces.
"And you pathetic fuck got off to it!" Euronymous had to duck down to dodge an empty beer bottle being sent his way.
"You what?!" You directed the question right at your boyfriend before you noticed a tell-tale damp and soaked-through spot right around his zipper.
"Yes, please tell her how you stood outside the room jerking off to your girl breaking down in front of me, Per!" Your bewildered stare rushed towards Øystein now.
"Huh? You…you saw him or what now?!?" The guitarist shrugged his shoulders and nodded.
"What the fuck is going on in here?" Jan Axel tried to intervene but both Per and Øystein shushed him almost simultaneously.
"You shut the fuck up!" Pelle sneered, looking like he was about ready to throw one of the plenty empty bottles of beer after his drummer too.
"No.", You huffed, wrapping your leather jacket around your torso to shield you from the creeping cold, "He actually got a point, because…what the hell?!"
"Pumpkin, I can explain, I promise." Per raised his hands in a soothing manner but you didn't feel like having any of it.
"Don't you dare sweet-talk me now, Pelle! You've been pushing me away for months but…you get off to, well, this?" You indirectly confirmed all that had been happening between Øystein and you.
"No. Just no. You know what? Fuck you. Fuck this shit. I'm not even remotely drunk enough to deal with this shitshow right now." To undoubtedly cement your point, you took a few swift steps toward Øystein who was looking at you with wide eyes as you fished for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, drawing one for yourself before deliberately putting it to your lips.
"Yes, I fucked Øystein.", You threw your hands into the air after lighting the cigarette, "Maybe I should've done that much sooner, who knows?"
The last sentence was solely aimed to hurt Per as much as he had hurt you.
"Fucking hell, I'm so sick of all this dysfunctional shit…", You just shook your head before heading back inside, "Better none of you disrupt the date I have with a piss-warm bottle of Jägermeister now or you fucking bet I'll cut your dick off!"
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madamemaximoff06 · 6 months
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The 4 most attractive characters from the “Lords of Chaos” movie:
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And you can’t change my mind
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rickhunolt · 2 years
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Not so friendly reminder that pets are NOT toys for kids!! Don't fucking get a dog/cat/hamster/bird/snake/etc as a gift to a kid that you know that is not responsabile and that is going to only treat the pet as a toy!!
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rory-moment · 1 year
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i reread snow
yknow, the doki doki fanfic? and its still so so good. like it made me tear up. its such a good fic and i'm happy its still up. kudos to the author.
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woo-lesbeano · 1 year
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Genuinely fucking adore this scene where the entire group is falling apart and arguing and Abed quietly decides to disengage and pet the goat instead of participating. 
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ofcowardiceandkings · 2 months
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sometimes u jus gotta do something sickly as a treat
[chinhands]
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Hello Murder Drones Tumblr, I have something important to share.
I was going back and looking at some of the concept art of the characters in murder drones and I was looking particularly close to Khan’s concept art (the KHANcept art, if you will) and,
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First of all, a little upset because we never got a full image I think, but anyway.
I noticed. That KHAN.
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WAS GONNA HAVE A SCAR OVER HIS FACE
Anyway, from now on I am going to draw Khan with this scar. No one can stop me and no one can convince me otherwise. Good day <3
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mqrianos · 9 months
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thelunarbar · 27 days
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One of my biggest issues with this show is how much they push this idea that you HAVE to go to college. Dean went out and got a really respectable and good paying job and Rory bashes on him for it so much. I don’t like Dean but I hate Rory’s perspective on college and the work force. For one thing not everyone has the luxury of going to college and for another not everyone wants to and you can be plenty successful without a college degree.
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