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notmyneighbor · 25 days

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Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 5

Word Count ~5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ sexual content, mild body horror and violence

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

The power is restored later that evening.

You are still sitting on the living room sofa before it happens, still tucked against the doppelgänger. Listening to the death of the storm outside. Watching the gray light oozing through the windows grow dimmer.

“How far did you walk to get here?”

“Not far. The delivery truck broke down about a mile from your house.”

“I’ll give you a ride back into town tomorrow, then. You’ll need to get it repaired as soon as possible.” It was strange, planning things with the imposter like this. As if you were truly allies and not sworn enemies. “What are you going to do once you move back?”

“I haven’t decided my next course of action yet.” His thumb is caressing the line he’d carved on your arm. Gentle, absent strokes.

A blossom of light suddenly illuminates the room. Electricity. You sigh with relief, straightening. You notice your panties still lying on the floor where he’s discarded them. The things that had seemed forgiveable in the darkness now feel indecent under the lighting. Like you’re being judged for your transgressions.

You look at what had once been Francis Mosses and your heart turns over again. And this is why you’ve done it; all of it. Because the sight of him instantly weakens you. You can’t help yourself.

His clothing, still in a state of half-on, half-off, is rumpled, still dirt stained from his trek to your house.

“I’ll draw you a bath,” you say. “While I make dinner.”

He rises, hastily fastening the button of his fly so the work pants don’t drop to the floor. The belt buckle he leaves as it is, the end with the metal piece jingling as he walks, following you up the stairs. The farmhouse squeaks in protest with each step. A heavy tred, though the milkman had never seemed anything but lean. Perhaps what was dwelling inside lent the extra weight.

You turn the lights on as you go, making sure every corner is devoid of shadows. There’s a tiny linen closet in the hall you retrieve a bath towel from. You’re considering what clothing you might have that he could wear while you wash his. Something a former boyfriend had left behind, maybe. You lean and turn the faucets of the claw foot tub on, testing the water temperature and adjusting accordingly.

“I have to find something for you to wear. Just leave everything on the sink and I’ll wash it for you.” You’re about to exit the room when he halts you, fingers lightly closing over your forearm. The previously injured one.

His lips touch yours. Just once. Just for the feel of it, to place a reminder there. You were his.

The deceiver releases you, working on the buttons of his work shirt’s cuffs. You duck out of the bathroom, making your way to your dresser. Nearly every piece of furniture in the home is hand made, built to last. Solid pine, the scent of it still strong after all these years as you begin rummaging inside. There, at the bottom. Shoved way back. Undershirt, briefs.

You snatch at them and return to the other room. Finding the imposter nude, standing beside the tub. You blush, not looking directly at him as you shut off the faucets. You test the temperature a final time and decide it’s safe.

“Soap, shampoo. Here’s a wash cloth.” You point out the items. Wondering if these creatures ever bathed. If cleansing their true form was ever a concern.

One foot sinks into the water. The other follows. He sits down slowly. A little sigh escaping at the feeling of soaking in the warmth.

“I’m going to go start supper.” You close the door softly behind you, descending the stairs. Considering your options for a meal. You’d never gotten a chance to check the garden earlier, so fresh vegetables were out. Canned ones, then. Green beans and instant mashed potatoes from the box. Leftover meatloaf from the previous evening. A quick, easy meal to prepare. Your eyes linger on the bottle of milk in the refrigerator. Not from Francis’ company, but a reminder nonetheless. You shut the fridge again after grabbing the necessary ingredients, then preheat the oven.

It doesn’t take long to get things ready. How strange to see two place settings on the oak kitchen table. You hadn’t had company over in a long time.

Still no appearance from your current guest. You walk to the foot of the stairs. “Francis! Dinner is ready.” You were still unsure how else to address him. It just seemed easier to call him that. If it bothered him, he didn’t reveal it.

The pretender returns just as you’re pouring two glasses of iced tea. You’ve never seen Francis with wet hair; it lies so dark and flat when it’s wet. The clothing you’ve lent doesn’t quite fit right, a little loose on the shirt and tighter on the material clinging to his hips.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything better to offer you. I wasn’t expecting…”

“It’s fine.” He holds out a hand, turning it over to stare curiously at new wrinkles along each digit.

“You pruned up. Spent too long in the water,” you explain. “How was the bath?”

“Enjoyable.”

“Good. Have a seat.” You drag the chair out slightly and he finishes the task, settling at the table about to be laden with food.

The dark eyes follow your movements around the kitchen. Potholders in hand as you remove the reheated dish from the oven. It seems too quiet in the house. You wish you had switched on the radio in the living room. Just for the comforting sound of background noise. Something to soothe your frayed nerves.

You sit across from your guest after you’ve filled both your plates. He still hasn’t touched anything. Hesitant. Waiting. And then you realize it. Francis would have said grace. You close your eyes and bow your head, reciting the words. “Bless us, oh Lord, for these thy gifts that we're about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord, Amen.”

A soft echo of the last word. You wonder if it would be considered blasphemy, what you’ve just done. The invader participating in it. You’ve never been overly religious yourself. You suppose you’ve committed far worse transgressions than this one over the course of the day.

The dark haired creature lifts a spoon and takes a tentative scoop of the white mixture, bringing it to his mouth. Considering the taste. “Good.”

You realize you’re starving and you dig in. Stabbing the loaf and cutting off a piece, blowing on it to make sure it’s cooled enough before taking a bite. Still moist. Your grandmother’s recipe. The figure on the opposite side of the table mimics your actions. “Careful. Don’t burn yourself. It’s still hot.” You hate burning your tongue. That awful soreness, the awkward numb feeling.

It doesn’t take long for the imposter to clear his plate. “Seconds?” He nods and you push back your chair, lifting his plate and returning to the counter. The glass he refills himself from the pitcher on the table. “Have you eaten before this?”

“Yes. But it wasn’t…” He pauses. “Different than this.” He seems reluctant to elaborate and you’re not sure you want him to, so you let the subject matter drop, setting another helping before him and retaking your seat.

You struggle for a safe topic of conversation. Everything you think of, each query you seek answers for, seem anything but. This domestic peace between you feels fragile. You’re not sure how long it will last.

After the meal concludes you bring your dishes to the counter and the false milkman copies your actions, piling them next to yours beside the sink. You let the water run hot and then plug the drain, filling the sink halfway. You squeeze a generous dollop of dish soap from the bottle tucked on the rim of the porcelain basin. A little too generous, maybe. There are a few little iridescent bubbles that drift through the air in front of you.

One arm tucks around your waist from behind. Lips beside your ear. You struggle to scrub the plate in your hands, your heart pounding. A throbbing further down. Still hungry for him.

He hums Francis’ song. You feel tears welling in your eyes again. The dish you set in the drying rack nearly falls, your wet fingers clumsy.

“Did he suffer?”

The humming stops. “What?”

“Francis. When you took him over. Was it quick, at least?”

“Yes.” He could be lying, of course. But why would the alien care about your own comfort?

You pull the drainer from the sink and the water level begins descending, the last of it suctioned inside with a loud squelching noise. He’s still holding you. His breath warm by your cheek.

You can see nothing through the window above the sink. You stare at that void, blinking away the tears.

***

You’d forgotten about the bloodstains on Francis’ work shirt.

You’ve just begun lathering the fabric with soap in the bathroom sink upstairs when you notice the incriminating flecks.

Hydrogen peroxide will remove them. Erase those traces of the milkman’s lifeforce that had spattered upon his surrender.

It makes you want to weep again.

Once your chores are completed you take your own bath.

You don’t linger. You’re thinking of the doppelgänger resting in the chair in the corner of your bedroom. Trying to figure out where he’ll spend the night. The living room couch, maybe.

The mirrored medicine cabinet is clouded when you emerge. You swipe at it ineffectually with your towel, still damp from your body. The one the creature had used lying in a pile on the floor by the tub. You toss it into the hamper before dragging a comb through your hair and brushing your teeth. Hastily sliding into a sleeveless nightgown. Tiny lilacs printed on the fabric. You have them growing in the side yard, the perfumed scent when they’re in bloom wafting over you when you walk by. You touch the purple satin bow at the scooped neckline. A delicate little detail.

Those dark eyes watching you as you begin to strip the bed. He moves to assist you in stretching a fresh fitted sheet over the mattress. You can hear the drip of the water from Francis’ clothes hung to dry over the tub in the next room.

He sits on the side of the bed while you rub moisturizing lotion into your elbows, over your hands and arms. Legs once you’re seated on the opposite side. He’s moved so that he’s propped upright against the carved headboard, lower limbs stretching out along the length of the bed. Inviting himself in. Maybe it was better this way. At least you could keep an eye on him. Not worrying and wondering what he was doing downstairs all evening.

You switch off the lamp on the nightstand and lie down. Hear him scoot lower until he’s resting next to you. There’s just a top sheet at the foot of the bed. It’s really too warm for more than that. Through the cracked bedroom window you can hear the crickets chirping near the foundation outside. You turn away from him, reclining on your side, facing the wall. Willing your eyes to shut, to get some rest.

Succeeding.

You awaken and it’s still dark in the room. There is a hand on your bare shoulder, stroking circles along your deltoid muscle, grazing the path where your neck meets your shoulder, dipping into the hollow above your collarbone.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, and you hold your breath. Wondering again over how fast your body reacts to his touch, to his voice, to everything. “What are you doing to me?” As if you are the one caressing him in the middle of the night and not the other way around. “What is this feeling…this ache…”

You turn onto your back. He reaches blindly for your face. Following the angle of your jaw. His thumb seats in the dip in the edge below your bottom lip and he tugs gently, your mouth opening. His mouth finds yours. Tongue slithering between. You whimper. Your fingers seed in his hair. Still slightly damp. Refusing to dry in this humidity. He reaches for the hem of your nightgown, sliding the cotton material upward. Immediately at your panties, eagerly working inside. A heavy sigh of satisfaction from him. You gasp, your legs falling open. So wet already. Your body not caring if this isn’t really the man you love. It wants this. It craves this forbidden touch.

He’s so, so good at the touching. Retaining everything you’d showed him previously. Expertly manipulating your clit. Thrusting inside of you. You moan into his mouth. The side of his throat. You lap at that skin. Rough now. The first pricks of new growth of facial hair coarse against you.

“My sweet girl. Mine. You’re mine.” You do not protest. Your hips are lifting, grinding you against his fingers. It doesn’t take long to find your release. Your nails rake his back. The praise spills from his lips. The claims that you belong to him continue. His possession. His. To do with as he wishes. “Touch me, love. I need you.”

You find his cock leaking against the tight fitting underwear. You shove at the elastic top, releasing it partially from its confines. Stroking. He shifts positions, resting on one forearm. Fucking into the tight ring of your fingers. “Francis.” He’s not him, he never will be, but it’s so easy to pretend when it’s like this. In the dark and the heat of the summer weather, from the exchange between your bodies.

“I want to be inside of you. I want…I want…”

His breath shudders and his hips stutter as his orgasm rocks through him. Spilling hot seed over your fingers. The mattress dipping and creaking as he drops his full weight down onto it. You slip out of bed, padding barefoot into the hallway to retrieve a wash cloth. Washing your hands at the sink in the bathroom before bringing the dampened material back to the imposter in your bed, dragging it over his skin until you’re satisfied he’s clean.

You leave the soiled cloth on the nightstand, lying back down with your back to him again. He pulls you against him. The curves of your bodies fit together like spoons resting stacked in a silverware drawer. Your hands rest on the forearms curled around your torso. Feeling the threads of his body hair. He breathes your name into your neck and you shiver. There are still so many hours before dawn.

***

The week of your suspension passes quickly.

Francis’ doppel has already moved back into the apartments. Calls made. To the milkman’s employer. To the DDD director. He says he seemed placated, but you know better. They’ve been alerted. They’re going to be watching him closely. Both of you.

You like having him visit your home far more than you should.

It’s beginning to feel comfortable. A routine developing. He helps you sand and repaint the front porch once the weather is no longer humid. Tending to the garden. Mending the fence bordering the side yard. Replacing the broken bracket for one of the pantry shelves. Tightening the gasket under the kitchen sink when you hear water dripping during dinner one evening. There are endless repairs when one owns a home. Especially one of this age. It’s strange to see the imposter working so diligently to maintain it.

Stranger still how much you enjoy him in your bed.

There are many kisses and touches. Moments of taking each apart with hands and mouths. You learn each other’s bodies. You know he wants even more of you. You want it, too. But you’re reluctant. For so many reasons. Fearing an accidental pregnancy not the least of them.

The guilt of betraying the real Francis that still haunts you.

***

Your replacement as doorman had not been very tidy.

The desk is cluttered with papers, confiscated entry requests and identification cards. Pens no longer in their cup beside the phone. The day’s listing taped sloppily to the wall beside the window so it hangs at an angle.

You spend some time rearranging things. Restoring order. Internally, you’re trying to get yourself back into the right frame of mind. You have a duty to protect the residents. The replicants are not welcome. Never to be trusted. Francis’ copy is the only exception.

You shouldn’t be making it.

He’s there at your window later that day. Looking tired. Thrusting his ID and paperwork through the narrow slot at the base of the glass. Merely for show, of course. There is a security camera inside the office now. That video feed being constantly monitored by a DDD member. You’ve already warned him about it.

There’s an extra piece of paper beneath the entry request form. A small scrap with a torn edge. You tuck it into your palm quickly before reviewing his documents, then handing them back with a smile before pressing the door to allow him to enter.

You make a show of shifting some papers, your back to the camera as you quickly unfold the secret message. An invitation to come to his apartment once your shift is over. It wasn’t wise to draw attention to him. But you find yourself unable to resist the offer. You see the pilot that lives near Francis leaning in the open doorway of his residence as you exit the elevator after your workday ends, smoking a cigarette.

“Mr. Rudboys,” you greet him, nodding. “I’m just dropping off some paperwork for Mr. Mosses.”

He grunts, a smirk twitching his thin lips. “Sure you are, doll.”

Your spine stiffens in embarrassment, your neck warm beneath your shirt collar as you knock on the apartment door.

Your lover opens it and you hastily bid farewell to his neighbor before you enter, closing the door behind you with a little sigh of relief. “I think he might suspect—” You don’t get a chance to finish as his mouth covers yours. “Francis,” you gasp.

“I’ve missed you,” he says, planting kisses along your throat, unbuttoning the top of your blouse and seating his lips in the hollow there. “This tedious work routine is unbearable.”

“I did warn you. You have to earn a living. Pay bills. I still don’t understand why you wanted this.”

“It’s not the mundane work ethic you devote yourselves to that we’re interested in, I assure you.” He nibbles your ear.

“So why do it, then?”

He sighs, his affectionate gestures ceasing. “Do you really want to talk about this right now? I had envisioned a rather different evening for us. I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

“I found something I know you’ll like. Come here.” He leads you into the living room. There’s a tan object resting on the coffee table. The length is too short to be a suitcase, the height making you realize what it is a heartbeat before he lifts the lid. A portable record player. Beside it, a shallow stack of vinyl albums. “Saw it in a shop window on my route downtown. I’ve no idea if you like those artists, but…”

“Francis.” You cover your mouth with your hand. You can hardly believe it. Such a thoughtful gesture. From the intruder or some sentiment of the man he’d taken over. You don’t know which is which. You never have.

“Try it out,” he invites.

You already know which record you’re going to play. At the very top of the pile you see Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong’s collaboration. You slide it from the sleeve and place it on the turntable. Setting the needle down gently on the ebony disc, you grin when it starts to play.

“Turn the volume up. It’s only fair, considering.” He nods towards the direction of the apartment where Mia Stone and her fiancé reside, a mischievous smirk on his features.

You comply, still uncomfortable with making it too loud. “Dance with me?” You’re not certain if he knows how. But the memory is there for him, plucked from the depths at this hour of need. His hands rest on your waist. You twine your arms behind his neck.

Stars shining bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you

Birds singin' in the sycamore trees

Dream a little dream of me

He turns, lifting you easily. You smile again, allowing him to pull one of your hands free to clasp beside you as you rest the other one on his shoulder, swaying gently as your bodies move in a tight circle.

Say nighty-night and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me

While I'm alone and blue as can be

Dream a little dream of me

The doppel leans suddenly and you gasp, but his hand is strong against your lower spine, the other holding your hand tightly. The throaty male singer’s voice begins the next verse as you’re lifted upright again.

Stars fading but I linger on dear

Still craving your kiss

Now I'm longin' to linger till dawn dear

Just saying this

“I thought you didn’t like music,” you murmur against his ear, lifting slightly on your toes.

“It’s growing on me.” You draw back to find him smiling. Francis’ smile. Your heart lurching in your chest again as the artists’ voices join together.

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you

Leave the worries behind you

But in your dreams, whatever may be

You've gotta make me a promise, promise to me

You'll dream, dream a little dream of me

The song ends. His hands cup your face. “Sweetheart.” His mouth hungry on yours. “Come to bed with me, love.”

You nod, following him to the bedroom. Undressing each other. Practiced at this now, clothing quickly shed. Not stopping to move the comforter, pressing your naked body down on top of it.

“I want to be inside of you.” He says this often, and it frightens you as much as it thrills you.

“Francis…”

“Let me in, love, please. My special, sweet girl…” His hand wedges between your thighs. Never once has he forced you. Never once have you denied him. You open your legs and he straightens, kneeling between that v shaped space. Running his erection along your pink flesh, parting your nether lips, spreading the slick from your core through them. Massaging your hooded button. Pausing outside your entrance. Waiting for your permission.

“Please,” he says, and it’s the first time you’ve heard him say the word.

“Okay.”

Pressure as the fattened dome violates your canal. You gasp and his hands instantly reach to soothe you, caressing your thigh as he thrusts inside gradually. He leans his weight forward in small increments, bringing your legs up as he goes. Pressing deeper inside of you. Still more than you’re used to. There’s a burn accompanying the stretch as his prick fills your pussy. A kind of raw ache when he is fully sheathed, bumping against the edge of your cervix. Lifting his hips, the shaft sliding back. Thrust in again. A slow rhythm that you know belies what he really wants. His arms tremor with the tension on either side of you. Your knees hug his ribs. He kisses you and you rock against him. The movements become easier. A wet sound every time he bottoms out, his cock fully buried, the base of his groin tapping your own.

“So perfect, love. So tight around me.” He’s already perspiring. He hadn’t opened the window. The air in the room is stale and warm. You taste the salt of his leaking sweat when he kisses you.

“Francis. You feel so good…” The discomfort has subsided. Now, every motion brings nothing but pleasure. Your nails dig into his shoulders. The warning your mind attempts to deliver is ignored. You want this. You want him. You’ll worry about the consequences later.

He moans loudly. “They’ll hear you next door,” you caution.

“I don’t give a fuck. You’re mine,” he growls, nipping at your throat. “I want to mark you again. Somewhere everyone will see.” Sucking kisses near your collarbone. Moving back to your neck.

“Oh, Francis, don’t.” You know how difficult it is to conceal a hickey. You can’t allow it. Imagining greeting the residents with a bloom of raspberry on your throat after the fragile vessels beneath had burst. It was too much.

“A different kind of mark, then. Like the one I made before. Somewhere they won’t see.” There is still an ache to the healing wound he’d previously left. The sutures have been removed, the edges knitting together nicely. “I like being able to feel you when you’re not with me.” He thrusts back inside you. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. You don’t have to be afraid of me.” His pelvis jerks faster, his passion building once more. A hand snakes between your bodies, thumb stroking your clit.

“Oh…” Your hips roll up, making that finger collide more firmly. The familiar sensation of release building inside of you. The coil tightening. “Francis…”

“Cum for me, love. Want to feel you around me.”

Your lower spine is on fire. You can’t hold back any longer. You climax, the walls of your canal spasming around him as the pleasure wracks through your body. Trying to milk your partner’s release. It’s working. You recognize the tell tale shudder. The way his breathing becomes ragged. “Please let me,” he says again, his voice full of need.

“Yes.”

A sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh escapes him. His mouth at the place where your neck and shoulder meet. An instant of heat and needle sharp pain. Something piercing you. Not Francis’ teeth, but belonging to the thing inside of him. The hurt vanishes, replaced by another sensation. You’re warm again. Your body ready for another release. The wave of a second orgasm dragging the doppel through his own. You feel the wet heat of his ejaculate filling you deep inside.

The damp skin you’re clutching ripples. That hazy shimmer visible when he draws back slightly to regard your features, still buried in your womb. You haven’t seen this struggle for many days now. Nearly forgetting its existence. Allowing yourself to be deluded.

Now reminded as the imposter fights for control. The hand that had been draped loosely against your throat tightens slightly, a sharp prick of claws digging into that soft skin, nearly enough to invade that barrier. Your eyes widen in alarm. “Francis,” you manage to choke out.

He abruptly releases you. Looking at his hand as if it’s foreign to him. The movement beneath his flesh stops, the halo fading. He is whole again.

“I’m sorry. I was overwhelmed, I…” His voice trails off. You struggle to move and he withdraws. You feel his cum dripping out of you, staining the blanket beneath you. “Sweetheart.” Worry in his eyes. Touching your cheek. Your force yourself not to flinch. Not to think about the unnatural seed he’s just filled you with. What that union could possibly result in.

The bite he’s left tingles. You reach for it absently, the flesh warm beneath your fingers. It’s slightly raised and firm. Like getting an insect bite, your body reacting to the venom injected.

“It will go away. I didn’t…it’s not deep.” His fingers nudging yours, feeling the injury. “Sweetheart. You’re so quiet. Talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling. What you’re thinking.”

“I don’t know.” There are so many of each, all competing to be heard and felt. “I think…I think I’d better go home now.”

“Stay,” he pleads. This sudden begging of his, you’re not sure what to make of it. “Even if not for the night, just stay with me.”

You shake your head. “I should go. It’s well past curfew.”

“I don’t care about your stupid government’s rules,” he snaps impatiently.

“I do. I have to live by them.” You move to sit on the side of the mattress, his hand reaching for you, settling on your scarred forearm.

“I thought about you all day. All I wanted was this. To be with you.”

“Francis. I can’t stay. Truly. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You bend to retrieve the nearest article of clothing you can reach.

“You’re upset with me.”

“I’m scared, Francis.”

“Of me?”

“Yes. No. Not just you. Everything. You guide his hand to your abdomen. “What will you do if there’s a baby?”

“Is that what you’re so concerned about?“ He sighs heavily, looking relieved. “I’ll protect it. Just like I’ll protect you.”

“They would never let us keep it. Not your species. Not the organization. The DDD would dispose of it. Your race…you wanted it for an experiment. You told me that.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

“You know what.”

You swallow thickly. “This is so dangerous. And you act like it’s not. They’ll kill us, Francis.”

He shakes his head firmly. “No. I won’t let that happen. Did you notice there were no doppels today?”

“I did. It’s unusual, but it does happen on occasion.”

“That’s because of me. Because they recognize this.” He caresses your marked arm. “No one would ever dare harm you.” His fingers now on the new puncture he’d created.

“Even if that’s true, it won’t stop the DDD.”

The imposter cups your cheek. “You’ve done something to me. Not something visually apparent. Something inside. I have to be with you.” He kisses you, the intially chaste gesture deepening and your hand relaxes, dropping the garment you’d retrieved back to the carpet. “Stay with me. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

You can’t refuse.

#francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #thats not my neighbor #milkman x reader #milkman x you #francis mosses #milkman

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q-gorgeous · 2 years

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Dont mind me as i come back to tumblr so i can check it like the daily newspaper in an attempt to get some kind of fandom inspiration from it again

#gorgi #i havent been on tumblr #because i was knitting #in december #and then i was like #im not caught up on tumblr #and then i had other things i was doing with my time anyways #but yeah uninspired i dont wanna draw #i filled not a single dannymay prompt this year :(#so i am here to surround myself by cartoon fanart once again #so maybe ill be inspired again by ectober

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sanrielle · 9 months

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Amazing fanart by Joanacchi! Posted here on tumblr with their blessing. Each one is based on a style that reflects a particular ancient culture's art history. (See below for descriptions provided by the artist!)

Store (buy these prints!) Twitter Instagram

Aang: Tibetan Thangka

"Thangkas are traditional Tibetan tapestries that have been used for religious and educational purposes since ancient times! The techniques applied can vary greatly, but they usually use silk or cotton fabrics to paint or embroider on. What you can depict in a Thangka is really versatile, and I wanted to represent things that make up Aang as a character."

Zuko and Azula: Japanese Ukiyo-e

"Ukiyo-e is a style that has been around Japan between the 17th and 19th century, and focused mainly in representing daily life, theater(kabuki), natural landscapes, and sometimes historical characters or legends!

Ukiyo-e was developed to be more of a fast and commercial type of art, so many drawings we see are actually woodblock prints, so the artist could do many copies of the same art!

I based my Zuko and Azula pieces on the work of Utagawa Kuniyoshi (1798-1861) one of the last ukiyo-e masters in Japan! He has a specific piece which featured a fire demon fighting a lord that fought back with lighting, and that really matched Zuko and Azula's main techniques!”

Toph: Chinese Portraiture from Ming and Qing Dynasties

"Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) was one of the longest in China! It was also a period where lots of artistic evolutions were happening, especially when it comes to use of colour! There was not a predilection for portraits during this time, but there are a lot of pieces depicting idealized women and goddesses from the standards of the time. For this portrait of Toph, I imagined something that maybe their parents commissioned, depicting a soft and delicate Toph which we know is not what she is about ♥️

Qing Dynasty (1644-1912) was the last Chinese Dynasty to reign before the Revolution. One of the most famous emperors of this period was Qianlong, and he really liked Western art! He commissioned a lot of portraits of his subordinates, and I chose a portrait of one of his bodyguards as a reference for the second Toph portrait, which I believe is much more like how she would want to be represented! The poem on top talks about the bodyguards' achievements during a specific war. I had no time to come up with a poem for Toph, so I just used the same one for the composition!”

Sokka and Katara: Inuit Lithograph

"For a long time, Inuit art expressed itself in utilitarian ways. The Nomadic lifestyle of early Inuit tribes played a huge part in that: most art pieces are carved in useful tools, clothing, or children's toys, small and easy to be transported, and depicted scenes and patterns representing their daily lives!

That changed a lot during the colonization. Since the settling of the Inuit tribes, many art pieces began to be created in order to be exported to foreigns, so they started to sculpt bigger and more decorative pieces.

Lithography, which is a type of printmaking, was introduced to Inuit people by James Houston, that learned the technique from the japanese. The art form was quickly embraced by the inuit, as part of the process is very similar to carving. Prints that are produced by inuit artists are still being sold today!

As lithography is not an old art style and it's still commercially relevant to the Inuit communities, since creating these in 2021 I have been donating regularly to the Inuit Art Foundation, not only all the money I get from selling some prints of these but a bit more, at least once a year. Hopefully, I can increase donations this year!”

#avatar the last airbender #atla #atla fanart #fanart #asian history #inuit history

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la-sera · 3 months

Note

Hi Sera!! I saw that you were looking for some new Downfall Duo content, so I wrote you a little something. It’s short but I hope it helps lift your spirits a bit <333

It’s a calm night, for once.

Hyrule gazes into the flickering flames, letting his brother’s voices drift around him like floating fairies. He is too tired to join in tonight. But merely listening is enough. Being here with them, being safe and full and warm, fills him with a happiness little else conjures.

It’s like the magic of his sisters — all softly sweet, precious, mysterious. Blink and you’ll miss it.

So, he keeps his heavy eyelids open. Because never in a million years did Hyrule think he would have something like this.

Off to the side, Wild and Twilight and Time bicker about something, even as they sit close. Their voices are light and teasing. Smiles rest on worn faces.

The two younger heroes have broken through the older hero’s quiet cautiousness. Their grins tell of their pride in doing so.

Wind and Warriors snuggle not far off. Warriors is telling a story and every so often, Wind breaks in with a question or exclamation.

Four is close by, pressed against Sky’s side, a book in his hand and his ears perked to hear the captain’s tale. The Skyloftian works quietly away at the block of wood in his hands.

Which leaves Legend.

As soon as they had finished setting up camp, the veteran had not-so-subtly situated himself beside Hyrule. And now, as if on cue, his head thunks softly against Hyrule’s shoulder.

He looks down, barely suppressing a giggle at the sight of the veteran propped against him. He had relaxed as soon as he had sat down, but in this moment he is practically asleep.

Eyes half-lidded, body relaxed, Legend watches their brothers with a lazy smile on his face.

Seeing him like this is a special thing not lost on the traveler.

He trusts you, something inside Hyrule whispers. A grin tugs at his lips.

“Don’ laugh,” Legend murmurs, just the barest tinge of irritation in his tone. “‘M tired after all that walking.”

“I wasn’t gonna laugh!” Hyrule retorts. Quickly, he shoves down the chuckles still pressing at his throat.

Legend is scowling now, though he looks no less sleepy for it.

…Or content. He cuddles in closer and Hyrule rests his head atop the veteran’s.

“Were too. I can see it on your face, Rulie. You find my exhaustion…comical.”

Hyrule’s grin grows. “Okay, maybe a little bit.”

Legend closes his eyes, a victorious smirk on his lips.

“Knew it.”

Hyrule doesn’t reply. He is growing sleepy now, and is more than content to merely let a comfortable silence blanket them.

A wisp of his magic drifts toward Legend without conscious thought. Gently, protectively, it wraps around him, like an embrace. The veteran relaxes further beneath its touch.

“Hey, Ledge,” Hyrule murmurs after a long thread of peaceful moments.

Legend shifts, slightly. “Hm?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you this but…” He sighs, a soft smile on his lips. “I’m glad that we got to meet.

“I’m glad that you’re my brother.”

There is a long, drawn out pause. Then, Legend replies in a voice thick with something other than sleep.

“Yeah…me too, Rule.” He moves once more, maneuvering into a more comfortable position. “Now, if you’re done with the mushy stuff, I’m goin’ to sleep.”

Hyrule grins, knowingly. “And you’re gonna use me as a pillow?”

“Seems that way.”

Rolling his eyes, Hyrule chuckles. “Fine.”

Really, though, being the veteran’s pillow isn’t so bad of a fate (yes, even now that Wind and Wild are creeping over to snap a few photos for future blackmail). Maybe, Legend will actually be able to sleep tonight.

And maybe, just maybe…so will he.

OH MY. Did you write this on purpose for me? Sorry for disturbing your time, you didn't have to do that. I really thank you, I like this. So much. I read it while lying down, and maybe I read it more than 5 times. I miss Downfall Duo.

I got the idea and immediately made a fanart from your fic. Hope you like it too.

Once again, thank you, I am happy with this fic you gave me. this gives me comfort.

#sera ask box #sera treasure box #linked universe #link #zelda #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu fanart #linkeduniverse

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beatcroc · 2 months

Text

a year!!! as of today i have now been drawing these funny little pizza freaks, to the exclusion of almost everything else, for!!! an entire year!!! i wanted to do a nice group shot/lineup of everybody to compare to when i first started trying to draw them because oh boy were they bad. i never even posted most of them anywhere because they were so bad. but im posting them here, now, to see how everything's changed/evolved.

this is probably the hardest time i've ever had trying to figure out how to work with a style, but we got there eventually; i'm pretty happy with the handle i've got on everybody now...dont let ur memes be dreams. lots of unimportant journaling and idle thoughts abt it below.

older pics

the first one is the VERY first time i drew them, before i thought i was going to actually have any interest in drawing them [lmao]; it was just the one isolated image, for my friendserver, to illustrate the funney message, so there was no attempt to make it Good or actually understand anything going on w/ the designs or style.

second is the original run of practices sketches to start trying to figure them out for real; done after i started having ideas for the comics and such and realized oh god maybe i am actually gonna draw fanart for this. [again, lol, and lmao.]

third one is the first pt art thing i posted on here. there were a couple weeks of sprite studies between this one and the previous image. the one on the top right wasn't part of that post i just threw it on as space filler; i'd intended to shift to doing Sprite Redraws But Stylized to explore tings more, but that was the only one i did. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

individual characters

peppino: by far the hardest dear god. bro what ARE your shapes how DOES your face work. jesus christ. everything i have trouble with this style for, peppino has it in excess. i draw in polygons! i need consistency! and that is the last thing this kind of style is concerned with. they are made of squarshy clay and i do not understand how to mold them. i was really hoping trying to learn this game's style would GIVE me that kind of flexibility for fun exaggerated facial expression but i don't think much came of it in the end 😔. anyway on the bright side all this means once i got peppino figured out a little bit everybody else clicked way easier.

fake peppino: honestly i never did anything with him on purpose except for how his eyes work + the perma-smile thing. i figured ok hes supposed to look weird and off model so whatever happens with him happens. and it did. and it kept happening. it is still, in fact, happening.

noise/ette: somehow, for every bit that peppino was the least natural thing i've ever tried, these two worked pretty much right off the bat. i still don't understand it, seeing as pretty much all the things at play for peppino are also at work for them. i think the new sketches are actually a little worse than older ones but not enough that i care.

gustavo: really funny bc i drew him on model twice and just went 'okay, cool nice, easy, um. he doesn't have any fucking legs?' fortunately he was the only one i had a strong idea for how to stylize him [square] and it worked exactly as i was hoping so wahoo.

brick: is an animal and therefore 5000x easier and more natural for me to draw/stylize than anything else in the cast. that is Just a rat bro. i can draw a rat.

gerome: i think the funniest one here. the most drastic and least necessary change imo. i was gonna have him be really small at first, like smaller than the noises, but then i just... didn't. he's just peppino-sized now. also i gave him like. actual human facial structure, which is funny bc in most cases i'd do anything to avoid, but it works well for his being A Rock to give him some angles and definition like that+ to differentiate his vibe from the rest of the cast who are all very squishy. also since he is essentially Just A Head it's good to emphasize that too ig.

john: i only drew john a couple times but he gets to be here because i like him. and because most of the stuff i applied to gerome was readily applicable to john, though i did try to keep him a little more uncanny because he is a Huge And Lanky Freak. i hate that he is barefoot btw but idk how to make his color balance look right with shoes.

pizzahead: i did not want to put him on here honestly but i Have drawn him a handful of times and more importantly i didn't know what i was gonna do with john's pose if i didn't have him there to be glared at. the only thing that's different with him is giving him wider-bottomed pants, which i got from when i tried to draw these guys in clone high style [i never posted that one either][i will eventually]

snick: he gets to be here because 1. he's like 6 lines 2. i like him and 3. ive scribbled him a few times offhand and it went pretty well

misc

there are some guys missing because those are guys i didn't draw enough [or at all] to have gotten comfortable with them. sorry

i would have Liked to shade these but for the time being i have accepted that my grasp of light/shadow has decayed to the point im not going to be happy with anything i try there, so For Now i am working on my presentation with flats i guess. gerome has a shadow only because he's shaded like that ingame and looks naked without it

anyway if you are still reading [hi?] i get to shamelessly plug now. i'm over the hill of my pizza run now, and while i still have plenty of things i want to make here, most of the bigger more in-depth ones have passed. pizza tower was the first thing in THREE YEARS to get me out of my oc groove to doing fanart, and once i am done with my ideas here i will be going right back to it. if you like my art or how i write characters/interactions you should check out my oc/webcomic blog @jamverse . i can't promise people who like pizza stuff will be terribly into my designs, but i can guarantee i treat my guys with the exact same sort of tone i handle the pt guys with. and hell, i've mentioned it a few times before, but like 70% of my characterization for fake pep is just copied off one of my characters, so if u are going to miss him... he will still be there in spirit >;p

and if you dont care about any of that and are still reading thank you anyway. actually making these comics + seeing how shockingly well-received they've been has done a lot for my confidence, and for seeing that my kind of stuff IS something people enjoy :')

#pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #fake peppino #gustavo and brick #the noise #noisette #pizzahead #arting #pizzaposting

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thebandghostofficial · 10 months

Text

[MESSAGE FROM THE CLERGY]

An important (and overwinded) announcement regarding this blog below the cut.

Hello everyone! This is Rawkin Ghoul/ Tumblr Ghoul/ Tumblrina/ Soda/ etc etc.

First thing’s first: no, this blog is not an official Ghost social media account.

I started this blog in late 2022 when ghost-official started blowing up (I do not believe this one to be real either, and honestly I won’t believe they have a Tumblr until it is linked on their official website) and thought, “wow, I could make a better Ghost blog than that. One that’s way better organized and actually advertises properly for them, and posts regularly!” So I did.

Originally it was meant as just that, a little joke between some friends, and wasn’t meant to really get farther than that. But then I thought, Ghost does have a lot of fans on Tumblr- a lot of exquisitely talented and devoted fans. Maybe I can kinda “roleplay” it for a while, build almost a bit of a portfolio, and then either offer the blog to management or offer to run it for them officially, for fun, if they were interested.

More time passes and more people followed. I thought “xofficial” as a username was a common enough joke/ gimmick that people would realize it wasn’t for real (and in fact, when I first searched the URL, I found that this username was once in use years ago! Sorry, previous owner), especially after posting that April Fools joke post- this was wrong of me to assume. There are a lot of roleplay/ joke “official” Ghost accounts all over the web but I failed to really properly disclaim that I was one of them.

I of course don’t plan to reach out to Ghost anymore and haven’t for some time, for multiple reasons including Tumblr just not being a good website for advertising. But another one is I got pretty loose on here. Tumblr is so different from Twitter and Insta and all that- you guys (and myself! I go here too) don’t want to have someone sell something to you- but you do love interaction and jokes and solving things together.

I think we can all admit it- when Ghost is dormant, the fans can get bored and even agitated, and can start to have a go at eachother. I’m certainly not guiltless there either. I wouldn’t say I’m notorious or even particularly well known in general but I’ve gotten into drama here and there. I figured the blog would be a fun way not just to distract the community, but really engage with it. The blog passed 5k a month or so ago and I started thinking, we could do something really cool with it. Smaller events like fanart contests and zines. But what if we did more? Organizing pre-ritual meetups. Larger community projects like fan-made music videos. ARG. Maybe even a short video game- there are so many incredibly skilled and hard-working Ghost fans and I wanted to try to bring them together because I think our love for Ghost, for whatever reason we love them, screams so loud and everyone deserves recognition (also a reason I started Fanart Friday as a regular thing).

You guys know I do my best to keep up with your tagging and what you’re saying and everything and I’ve seen the people pointing out the blog isn’t real from the beginning- I didn’t want to address it directly at first because I thought if nothing else people enjoyed the mystery.

But, more lately there’s been more and more people who are agitated, disappointed, and even a little scared to hear that this blog is not official.

I want to offer my very sincere apologies to people who I made feel that way. I should have made it obvious sooner- I know so well that there are a lot of very young Ghost fans especially who wouldn’t necessarily surmise that this isn’t real. I’m really sorry to those of you I disappointed.

I will never ask you for money here, or any personal information, or send asks anonymous or otherwise from here or my main personal blog as “Tumblr Ghoul”. I have had one person ask to message me so I messaged them to allow them to do that. If somebody contacts you claiming to be the person running this blog, they are lying. Please block them. My interactions here I aim to keep as public as possible, hence being increasingly liberal with replies and reblogs as the number of people interacting grew.

My only goal with this blog is to advertise for a band that I love and to entertain/ help the fandom when and where I can. I love and appreciate all the fanart and interest in the character of Tumblr Ghoul but I don’t want anybody to feel obligated to me and I especially don’t want to hurt anybody. I started this blog for fun and that how I want it to remain- fun for everyone.

People pointed out when I didn’t post for some time a few months back and it was because I had lost interest in the blog and was going through a rough time- and then one particularly bad day I got on to check it by chance and just seeing your guy’s tags and comments made me feel so much better. I tell people that I found Ghost when I really needed a friend and they fulfilled that for me, but the past few months you guys have done just the same for me. I am so sorry to have betrayed that and made you feel unsafe and lied to in return.

As of posting I do intend to still run the blog as I have been (with a disclaimer added to the bio regarding the legitimacy of this account)- posting about tours, chapters, merch, etc, as well as Fanart Friday. I 100% understand if anybody doesn’t want to be involved in that, so anybody who has tagged me in something and don’t want it on the blog now, I can open messages and you can let me know. I will probably close them again after a week or so if I get a large flood of unrelated messages.

Please do not message me asking me who I am, who knows about the blog, etc. Gaining popularity was never something I wanted from this so I will stay anonymous, for the time being at the very least. A very small number of people know who is behind the blog and to my knowledge only one of them is even on Tumblr and in the fandom.

Thank you for all the support you’ve shown me, Ghost, and eachother. It can be easy to see the bad parts of a community and roll your eyes electing to keep your distance, but since starting this blog I’ve been reminded what good community is even when it’s frustrating sometimes.

Thank you for reading, I won’t hold it against anybody who wants to separate themselves from this blog at this point, and please don’t let my oversight and general dummyness sour your experience with Ghost or its other fans. Enjoy the rest of this tour and whether it’s with or without me, please keep rawking 🤘 Be good to eachother.

Thank you.

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steddielations · 2 years

Text

Based on this fanart!

Eddie gets into Steve’s interests too.

Steve doesn’t have many hobbies apart from babysitting and sports, but over the years, he’s come to love being outside. That’s how he found skull rock, wandering in the woods for hours. It clears his mind, getting away from everything. He likes to run too and get his heart pumping, work out his stress.

Eddie was never one for the outdoors, he prefers to be holed up in his room playing guitar, planning campaigns, reading, watching movies and stuff. But he decides to give the “outside thing” a chance because Steve has always been so great about trying Eddie’s interests, so Eddie wants to do the same for him, and agrees to go on a hike together.

“I can’t believe this is your idea of romance,” Eddie groans, slapping a mosquito off his arm.

“Hey, I never said it was romantic,” Steve shrugs, he looks so put together with his sunglasses and fancy running shoes, while Eddie’s a mess after only a couple hours of hiking. God, if Eddie didn’t love him so much, he’d hate him.

“It was implied when you asked me on a date to the woods with you,” Eddie tucks the stray hairs back into his bun, going for casual despite his tired arms feeling like jelly, “You know, if you wanted to see me all hot and sweaty, there’s other, easier, much more pleasurable ways to do it.”

Steve snorts, “This was your idea. You wanted to come.”

“Because I’m a good boyfriend who wants to do the stuff you like with you.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, automatically reaching for Eddie’s hands to help him step over a large rock because he’s just so perfect like that, “I do like all the stuff we normally do together.”

“Yeah but it’s always my stuff, and you don’t make fun of it and you like it cause you’re just so damn perfect, and I wanted to do the same for you.”

Except he’s failing miserably, trying to hide how badly he wants it to be over, trying to be as perfect for Steve as Steve is for him.

“Oh.” Steve looks stunned, like he didn’t realize he’s worth such a gesture and it makes Eddie want to shower him with affection until he knows how much he means to him, “Well that’s… sweet of you.”

“Yeah yeah, it’s gonna lose all sentiment if I pass out trying to impress you. How much further? Jesus, how are you not tired at all!”

“Some of us actually participated in gym instead of selling weed under the bleachers,” Steve smirks and Eddie’s heart skips not just from exertion, “We probably should’ve taken a shorter hike for your first time. Maybe we should go back.”

“What? No, y’know the nature thing isn’t so bad once you get passed the bug bites and the sunburn and the muscle aches,” Eddie tries to keep going but Steve comes to a stop in front of him, brows furrowed in concern behind his sunglasses, “I mean, my legs are totally supposed to feel like noodles, right? I’m doing great.”

Steve reaches out, gently brushing Eddie’s sweaty hair off his forehead, “I think you’ve pushed yourself hard enough, baby, your face is beet red, you’re shaking. We’re going back now. Here hop on, I’m carrying you to the car.”

He doesn’t offer any room for argument, kneeling down so Eddie can climb onto his back. As humiliating as it is, Eddie relents because he’s honestly exhausted. He locks his sore arms and legs around Steve, clinging to him, quiet for most of the way, feeling like he ruined the whole thing.

Steve must sense it, because he jokes, “Gotta say, I’m really feeling the romance now.”

Eddie smiles against the warm skin of Steve’s neck, “Shut up, I hate you.”

“No you love me,” he can hear the soft smile in Steve’s words, “You did this for me.”

He shouldn’t sound so amazed by that. As if there’s anything Eddie wouldn’t do for this damn boy.

“And I’ll do it again,” Eddie accentuates his point with a kiss to Steve’s cheek, “And again,” another, “And again until I get better at it.”

Steve chuckles, squeezing Eddie’s thighs teasingly, “You don’t have to, not if you don’t want to.”

“I wanna do everything with you, sweetheart,” Eddie says, means it, “Love you.”

And they do go hiking again, they go on lots more, shorter hikes on cooler days. Steve always brings a backpack with extra water, and snacks and bug spray and sunscreen and whatever else Eddie might need to stay comfortable.

Which, Eddie insists that Steve needs those things too. It sort of pangs his chest every time Steve only seems to remember his own needs as an afterthought, but it’s okay, they take care of each other.

Eddie finds that he doesn’t mind “the outside” so much when he’s with Steve. On every hike, he’ll pick up a cool rock or a shiny chunk of minerals and give it to Steve, who always says “oh nice, thanks, babe” and shoves it in his pocket.

Sometimes they see animals and name them after rockstars or Steve’s favorite basketball players. Sometimes they talk a lot, other times they’re more quiet, just holding hands as they tread through the leaves together.

Eddie’s favorite hikes are the ones right at dusk. They have a spot high up in the woods that no one else would ever be able to find, with the best view of the sunset over Lover’s Lake. They always sit and watch the colors melt into the water, Steve’s head resting on Eddie’s shoulder, smiling softly with Eddie’s arm around him.

It’s their spot, it’s their place to be alone together, it’s another one of their things and Eddie loves it, he loves everything with Steve.

#eddie and steve’s respective ~things~ becoming ~their things~ is everything to me #steddie #eddie munson headcanons #steve harrington headcanons #steddie ficlet #rueswriting #mp #my fic #steddie fic #fluff #steddie drabble #eddie x steve #eddie munson #steve harrington #steveddie #stranger things #my fics

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thalunalovegood · 2 months

Text

I’m on my Gwynriel era (been here since 2021 🤓)

So, I’m here thinking about them, and how they will challenge each other, make a lot of bets, make inside jokes, they have so much potential to grown together and heal together.

Look at this, they are so beautiful 🥹

[I hope the artist don’t mind, I found the fanart on Pinterest]

So here a few things that I think will happen, or I would like to see/read in their book.

I said here once, but I would to see that the shadows talk to Gwyn, I know we don't have evidence yet, but I think when Gwyn ask Az if he can sing it was because maybe she heard something, and the way she smiled to them (you can't tell me the shadows aren't the captain of the ship, and don't give me "it's good for Az if they left him", it's BS, the shadows are part of him)

Bets. We know they both are competitive:

Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, “What do we get if we finish the course?” Az’s shadows danced around him. “Since there’s no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn’t bother to get a prize.” Boos sounded. Gwyn lifted her chin in challenge. “We look forward to proving you wrong.”

“Az had let his brother boast. Especially since Azriel had been planning his own victory for a year now.”

Encouraging. They will push each other to their best version, to recognize that they both deserve good things.

Chemistry. All their interactions are so good, and funny, they have a really strong set up. If they talking it's like this, can you imagine they flirting to each other?

“I blame Cassian for this. He's too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days. Azriel laughed. — I'll give you that. Gwyn smiled broadly. — Thank you.”

Opening. Gwyn is comfortable around Az, he isn't self-conscious around her, so they will be able to talk to each other without their past, traumas get the best of them. [Don't give me the "she is a SA survivor speech", she is, but she isn't her trauma, and she can have everything she likes, she reads smut books, and she isn't a child.]

Spying together. Az is the spy master, and Gwyn showed abilities to become one.

She smiled crookedly at Nesta. “I kept to the trees the first two nights, watching the beasts, and I spotted that horrible male and his companions this morning. Saw they’d found my nightgown and displayed it, and I knew they were hunting for you. I thought I’d take them out before they could find you.” “You led the beast right to them.” “I learned where the beasts sleep during the day,” Gwyn said. “And that they get very angry when awoken.”

Gwyn and Az have so much potential, if you see the details, the songs references, the spark, the glow, all of this is used to describe a match bond, anyway, I'm here for them, I can't wait to read their story.

Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason… he could see it. But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

#azriel x gwyn #gwyn berdara #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #gwyn #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #pro gwynriel #pro gwyneth berdara

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factual-fantasy · 5 months

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26 ASK! :DDDD🎉🎉🎉

I do not.. :/ Sorry!

@mason-gaylord

:DDD Thank you!! ☕ I'm hanging in there as best I can <:) Thank you for the well wishes. I hope the same for you!

@boxofcreampuffs (SKJAJD HORSE XDDDD)

AAAAA THANK YOUU SO MUCH!!! THATS SO SWEET!! I PLAN TO GET BACK AROUND TO BOTH FANDOMS SOMETIME SOON AFTER MY COMIC IS DONE!!💖💖💖💖💖

@chaotic-public-menace (Post in question)

<XD While that is true, this comic is way overdue. Its taken me some weeks to make and it should have been up like a month ago! I just wanna get it done already so I'm trying to not get distracted by FNAF and other drawing ideas-

@ditzyclown

I haven't actually decided on whether or not the other Addison's were good or bad guys. This would change their reaction to seeing Spamton.

I had this idea that Spamton's world is a lot like Seam and Jevil's. Its more cruel and wicked than the original Deltarune.. And Spamton might not have been particularly close with the other Addison's.. They had no time for bonds or relationships. It was a dog eat dog world, every man for himself.

Branching off of that, one idea I had was the other Addison's had become jealous of Spamton's success and tried to kill him by pushing him into the acid pools.. Only for Spamton to survive and reemerge as a horrific looking creature..

If I go with the evil Addison story.. some Addison's might run away in fear just because of how horrific Spamton looks. Though some might deliberately abandon him becuase they hated him/were jealous of him and felt like he deserves this.

If I go with a story where the other Addison's weren't responsible for the acid fall.. they might still run away in fear. Seeing this horrible beast.. not realizing its one of their own.

@bunny-coffee

XD No problem! Soft boi Gregory is best Gregory!

@beryl-shade

In my AU, none of the other Glamrock's know that Gregory exists. But if they did, maybe Roxy would envy it a bit..? Having someone look up to Freddy and not her might hurt her ego a bit.. :(

@elegysonnet

Oh no no, his top and bottom row of teeth are separate. Like these pictures here show,

(Post in question for the pictures)

The top row of teeth all fused together and became one big cracked tooth. And the bottom row did the same. But the two rows are separate and he can still open his mouth.

To think that if while he was initially melting, he had kept his mouth closed? His teeth would have melted together and he wouldn't be able to eat anything easily.. if at all.

Please don't draw fanart of any of my stuff. There are no exceptions.

(Also thank you💖)

@skellacant

Thank you! :DDD

@iziria09

You just made their night XDD

Thank you! I'm hanging in there 😅 I hope you are well too! :}}

They're dry :x

@crimson-thinker

I imagine that Bonnie Bowl might have a flashlight.? And Pirates cove would have a box of confiscated Bon-cams XD

I don't really remember what the other collectables were in the game so I don't really have a reference to go off of..

Buuuut,,, maybe from Bonnie bowl you could also get one of Bonnies signature bowling balls? A purple bowling ball with a rabbit ears print on it somewhere.

And for Pirates Cove perhaps a cheap pirate captains hat? I had this idea that there's 100s of these cheap captain hats that Foxy gives away to the kids every day. So maybe that could be a collectable too? :00

@ninaandthegames

XD Once I'm done with this project that will be me. Posting the most painful angst I can conjure up

I have not. But something tells me its about Hares/Rabbits XDD

@randox-talore

Yeah, me and some friends theorized about that. We thought "Maybe Vanessa or William is taking care of the animatronics and keeping them clean"

But even if they were, you cant help certain wears and tears. They would look noticeably worn, stained, torn in some places and a bit brittle in others after so many years of just existing.

They also missed out on a lot of scares by making them pristine. Bonnie's face could have had a crack/split down the side. "Oh yeah that's been there for a while, its fine" Only for it to fall of later in the movie revealing these piercing red eyes and a Childs head lodged in Bonnie's face/jaw.

Or Chica could have her beak come off or dangle down and reveal colorful wires hanging down.. and.. is that a childs arm.?

(Post in question)

Oh yeah, he'd be scared. Even the Captain is spooked in that AU XD

@kaiserdarken (WAAA SORRY FOR ANSWERING SO LATE! I was originally going to draw something as a response to this but I never got around to it and it got burriedddd.. my apologies. Better late than never I suppose-)

I do celebrate Halloween, which means Bibi and Jangles would as well XD For Halloween I like to dress up in some way and carve pumpkins. Although I forgot to carve any this year and didn't have a good opportunity to dress up unfortunately-

I can see Bibi wanting to dress up and carve pumpkins too. But he might not actually be strong enough to puncture a pumpkin to carve it <XD He'd need some help-

Jangles would just eat all of the candy. Plus pumpkin pie and more candy-

(Again one of those asks I was going to respond to with a drawing but never got around to ittttt.. I'm sorry-)

Its been so long since you sent this I cant actually remember what it was referring to.💀 IM SO SORRY! Its still funny though! <XDD

(Another ask I was going to respond to with a comic- sorry for the lateness!)

Thank you so much! And yeah, "Jangles looks like Papyrus," I get that a lot <XD

(Yet another late ask that was meant to have a drawing attached😭 Sorry!)

(Bibi sweating profusely) "PLEASE do not die for me- I prefer you were alive--"

@minnesotamedic186 (ANOTHER late ask meant to have its own post but I got lazy😭💔Sorry!)

The basic idea for my Kirby AU is that I took the other metaknight's and added them to the Kirby Right back at Ya universe :00 I cant remember what info I shared before because this ask was sent so long ago.. but I'll just recap Axe Knights story because it has the most detail!

Axe Knight was Metaknight's first follower, and best friend. He was with Metaknight from the very beginning. They became star warriors together when they were both a bit young. Axe Knight truly believed in Metaknight. He saw greatness in his friend, he saw a true hero. And he truly believed Metaknight was going to end this war and save the world. Its because of this adoration and belief, that Axe Knight devoted himself to Metaknight and proclaimed himself to be his first follower.

It was not too long after when tragedy struck. A battle broke out and Axe knight sacrificed himself to protect Metaknight. As he lay on the ground, dying from his sacrifice.. he saw Metaknight too laying on the ground nearby. Unmoving, and in a pool of his own blood. Axe knight died with his heart twisted in grief. Thinking that his sacrifice had failed. And that his best friend had died.

Metaknight of course survived, and Axe Knights sacrifice was the only thing that saved him. But Axe Knight didn't know that before he died. Metaknight buried his best friend and left that planet in grief. Forever changed by this loss..

But Axe Knight.. wasn't totally gone. Axe died grieving, thinking that this world lost a great warrior; Metaknight. Thinking that it was so cruel Metaknight didn't get to live longer. To travel the universe and save lives. They were robbed of a hero. Because of Axe Knights failure. His soul was so disturbed that it couldn't move on. He later crawled out of his grave, with a fiery determination to make things right. To go out there and save as many lives as possible. To protect anyone he can and to help all who need him. Because that's what Metaknight would have done.

Eventually after years of blindly wandering the universe.. battling monsters and saving innocents.. he crosses paths with dreamland. He finds himself in a little town full of Cappys.. And then he runs in to a familiar face...

(ANOTHER ASK THAT WAS MEANT TO HAVE A DRAWING RESPONSE IM SORRY-)

I was going to draw a comic of Jangles making a vlog style video. "Hey guys, welcome to pranking with Jangles. Today I'm gonna prank Bibi by throwing this cheese slice at his face!"

He sneaks up behind Bibi who is sitting on a beanbag and reading or something- "Hey Bibi" He turns around

Jangles throws the cheese slice and it completely misses and just splats on the ground. "Oh oops"

Bibi: "????"

@uay778 (The last ask that I was going to draw something for and never got around to. So sorry!)

I was going to draw a comic to this where I replace the bandages with clean, fresh ones. But then they immediately get soaked with blood again XDD Its just a part of my design!

#my response #tw body horror #fnaf security breach #fnaf movie spoilers #fnaf movie #octonauts #deltarune #undertale #spamton #bibi and jangles

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