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#I just really liked how this sketch turned out
kurocatsstuff · 3 days
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11:55 : reincarnation.
genre : angst, suggested suicide, hallucinations, Scaramouche x reader, GN reader
notes : I got bored, consider this my apology for not updating on the magical girl AU I did :3
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You’d never really resorted to anything in life, your grades were average at best, the only talent you ever had was drawing yet you couldn’t improve, your envy and self esteem dragged you to the ground, and you were always alone. No matter how much you hated it you were alone.
You were blessed to be having the friend you do have, Scaramouche. Yet you were scared to talk to him in the public because you knew he was too good to be true. Beautiful, smart, cold yet soft to you, your exact type. And that’s how you always knew he was just an hallucination, because he was fictional, Scaramouche from Genshin Impact.. as your real life friend? How stupid you would sound if you said that.
Holding his hand, comforting silence, intimate situations. All that you’ve experienced is just a wall blocking the loneliness that ate you alive. Just a reflection of what you want.
—————
11:34 PM, you were at the playground, sitting on the swings with Scaramouche to your right.
The cold breeze embraced you as you shivered in response, your coat and red scarf helping you through it.. turning to Scaramouche, you saw that he was looking through your sketch book.
“..Is this me?” He pointed towards the unfinished sketch as he tilted the page towards you so you could see it. “Yes, that’s you.” You answered in a quiet tone, you were a bit nervous to talk to him. Even when it was night, everyone was sleeping other than the few teenagers that smoked in the nearby alleyway.
Scaramouche smiled softly, a smile only you could see in a literal way. “It’s nice.” He mumbled, a soft blush on his face as he looked at it. You nodded in response. “Why don’t you finish any of your drawing anymore? You’re only sketching nowadays without finishing it like you used to.” You gently swing, while he was unmoving.
“Because it’s just wasting time.” Right, just wasting time… coloring and shading, completing your drawings either traditionally or digitally it was rare for you to do. Honestly you didn’t see a point in it anymore, you’ll just disappoint yourself again. And it won’t change, you couldn’t improve no matter how hard you tried.
“You should try at least, it’s nice to have a finished piece.” He wouldn’t know what it would be like, he’s not an artist, he’s not human either, he’s not even real. “..hey Scara?” You called out his name.
“What?”
“Do you believe in reincarnation.. like, to another world once you die?” He wouldn’t die, but it would be nice to ask. What does Scaramouche think about reincarnation?
“Maybe.”
“Do you think I could meet the real you if I get reincarnated?”
“I am real.”
“No, you’re not.”
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hunter-burton · 7 hours
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Recently, I’ve developed the headcannon that Alex owns a little sketchbook! Absolutely consumed by this idea, I made a physical “replica” of what I think it would look like- including some of the sketches inside! When making these pages in particular, I actually acted out a specific scenario to help myself figure out what to draw. This fic is that scenario a bit more fleshed out. Enjoy :)
Opening Up
It sucked coming home so late, especially with all that rain. After, yet, another dragging day of witnessing absolute horrors, coming home, Alex practically dropped their body into the door. Upon finally stepping into their house, they clicked the door behind themselves, muffling the sobbing clouds
Their weird ass cat, Clyde, sat at the small, round, dining table. Its yellow eyes blinked, “How was work?”
“Exhausting.” After closing and setting down their umbrella, Alex let out a sigh, lifting their uniform’s heavy coat off their hunched body and hung it on the thin coat hanger. “Y’know, the usual. Just gotta… sit down… maybe make a cup of tea.”
“Want me to make bubble water on the…” the creature traced circles in the air, “hot thing?”
“Stove? Yeah, actually. I’d really appreciate it..” Alex paused, brows furrowed, “Wait- you know how to use that thing?”
It nodded, “You turn on the knobs and, then the, sttt..circle thing.. tops turn red. I’ve seen you do it before.”
“Hm, yeah. That sounds about right.” They eased their boots off by the door, then made their way to the kitchen cabinets, “Have at it. I’ll get you a pot.”
As Alex reached for and opened the cabinet doors, Clyde tilted its head, “What’s in the rest of those little doors?”
“Oh, the cabinets?” Alex handed Clyde a small, metal pot, which it, then, took to the sink and began to fill with water. “Just general kitchen stuff. Pots, pans, spices…” they spoke over the rain hitting the road and the pot’s wet, metal hum, “Not the tea though. That’s kinda more where you’re at- by the sink.”
Once the pot was filled, it stopped the water, passed the pot back to Alex and then began to pull open all the little doors, “What does the tea look like?”
“They should be in little boxes. One should have a bear on it?”
Clyde squinted into one of the drawers, “keeyy… leee… sty.. all?”
Alex raised a brow, “Does the word start with a ‘C’” they traced the letter in the air.
“Yes.”
“‘Celestial!’ That’s them.”
“Alright.” Clyde sifted through the boxes “Which one you want? Green? Sleep?… Gine grr?”
“Ginger? Ginger sounds nice.”
Clyde echoed Alex’s voice, “Ginger it is.”
“Thanks!”
Clyde huffed, “Don’t mention it.” The box rustled as it pulled out a tea packet. To the side of the boxes, it spots a brown oddity in the corner, adorned with colorful stickers. It pulls it out, along with the tea, “Hey, what’s this?”
Lights sparked on in Alex’s eyes, “Oh! That’s my sketch book!” They snatched the thing from its claws and began to flip through the pages, “Man! It’s been forever since I’ve opened this thing… I used to doodle in it all the time before this… fuck-ass job.”
Clyde scrunched up its face, “Doodle?”
“Yeah! Here, I’ll show you- hold on, le’me get a pencil!” Alex set the sketchbook on the dining table and raced to their bedroom and, soon, returned with a yellow pointy thing and a tiny metal object with holes. Over the trash can, they stuck the yellow stick into one of the holes, shedding off what appeared to be wood, then returned to the dining table to flip the sketchbook to a blank sheet. With the dark tip, Alex began to write symbols onto the page, narrating every movement, “I’ll start with a circle… then some rectangles… dot- dot… maybe some squiggles for the hair- then a neck…” with every soft scratch the tip made on the page, a line appeared. It was like watching magic. One moment, there was a blank page, then, the next moment, “Line, line, box box…” Alex drew an arrow and wrote
Me
“…And that’s me!”
Clyde sat there for a moment with its jaw ajar, “gimme that thing.” It held out its claw, then shifted its eyes, remembering the magic word “..please.”
“Pencil.” With a wide smile, Alex dropped the pencil into those claws, then twirled their hand, “give it a whirl!”
Clyde clumsily situated the magic stick into its four fingers, then began to scratch the page with the tip. Lines turned into shapes and shapes turned into little units of invigoration. First, there was the face, then the horns, the uniform stripes down its sleeves, then the large zipper in the center of its chest. Once blank, this section of the page was now Clyde’s closest replica of its reflection. To top off the illustration, it, while admittedly crude, attempted to copy Alex’s arrow and Me.
Arms crossed, Alex sipped on their ginger tea and nodded, “Nice! That’s actually pretty good for your first time!”
It felt as if some tingling force was tugging on the corners of Clyde’s mouth and from the inside of it’s chest. For some reason, though, it didn’t mind- it couldn’t mind. Dismissing the sensation, however, it looked up to its next subject, sitting across from it, and, once again, scratched at the page, lines flowing more than they did before, now that the pencil was solid in its claws. Once the image manifested, Clyde, again, copied the arrow, pointing to the portrait of Alex, writing:
YOU
Seeing that the page was now full, it dropped the pencil.
“Yeah!” Alex took the pencil and wrote the word by Clyde’s drawing of them.
Clyde shifted its eyes to the previous page and up to the writing stuck up in the corner. It pointed to this mysterious text, “What does this, in the corner, mean?”
“That’s the date,” Alex passed the pencil back to Clyde, “I always jot it down when I finish my drawings so I can look back and know when I drew it.”
“Hm.” Clyde twirled the pencil back into its four fingers, “What’s today?”
“Uhm…” their voice trailed off as they stood up and made their way to their calendar, “1988…January…”
In the corner of the page, Clyde scratched down the year and its closest approximation of the spelling for what it heard:
JANeeuARY
“Today’s a Tuesday… the twelfth!”
TWelth
The tip skating across the grainy texture of the page was an addictive vibration. Clyde flipped the page, then paused, eyes darting around the room for a new subject to draw, eventually landing on the front door. It scribbled down two rectangles, one for the door, then one for the door’s window, through which rain could be seen pouring down from the sky, then, finally, a circle representing the door’s handle. Besides the sketch, it drew an arrow, labeling the sketch:
DOR
“A door?”
“Well,” Clyde crunched its face, “what else am I supposed to draw?”
“Hm,” Alex put their chin on top of their hand, “What’s your absolute favorite thing in the world?”
After a moment, Clyde lit up and began to scratch at the page once more, first outlining several shaky curves, then scribbling in the one at top, and, finally, adding two triangles and a jagged mouth for a face, making a Jack-o-Lantern and, with an arrow, labeling it:
FAVORit thing
“Oh nice!” Alex beamed, “Yeah, I like Halloween too.”
Clyde dropped the pencil and slid it to them, now setting it’s chin on its hand, “What ‘bout you?”
“Oh- shoot…” Alex’s spine pulled them straight soon before they held their chin, “I need to think about this one- hold on…” their voice trailed off until, “Ah! Got it!” They snatched the pencil, twirled the book to face them, and sketched away. With five fingers, as opposed to four, their lines were, clearly, a lot more cohesive, dancing together to suggest depth in what appeared to be a ghost popping out out a TV screen, exclaiming,
BOO!
Alex turned the sketch book back to Clyde, who read the note they left besides the illustration:
I really like horror movies!
“Horror movies, huh?” Clyde looked back up from the page to Alex, “Like that Critters thing you showed me last week?”
“Yeah.” Alex's eyes sparkled, “Oh- and especially- like- the really bad ones. I heard “Creepazoids” is supposed to be awful- I bought it yesterday.”
Clyde scoffed, “You humans are weird.”
Alex smiled, “Wanna watch it?”
There was a moment where the sound of rain hitting the roof filled the room.
A smile. That’s what that tingling tug was, “Sure.” Clyde smiled.
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karriette · 23 hours
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So I’m rereading Penance. by @kinkydents , it’s got to be one of my favourite fan fictions to date and I highly recommend it!
As I was reading chapter 5 I got all inspired! I just really connected it to the painting ‘the singing Buttler’ by Jack Vettriano. The two dancers blissfully unaware of the environment around them, just enjoying the dance. I couldn’t quite do it justice (yet) so here is the quick sketch I did. I’m not very confident in drawing men, and Alastor is all sorts of strange proportions wise. But I at least like how Charlie’s hair turned out haha!
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oppropro · 1 day
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Just a fanfic I have written for @celestialkiri
I am so in love with Sophie and Wukong and thought I might write a story of how Sophie ended up in the JTTW universe. All credit for character creation goes to @celestialkiri @jttw-monkeybusiness. I really hope you like this, I tried my darndest!
Chapter 1 - Bad Luck
Luck finally seemed to be going Sophie’s way. Standing under the awning of a storefront she had never glanced at, on a street she had traveled nearly every day for the past six years, the universe had finally given her a sign.
            Her day had not started out so terrible; she had found an anthology of 19th century poetry at a discounted price, as well as a special edition of National Geographics about old world monkeys. Along with a couple of used novels, her outing to the consignment store had been a net positive. Also, her mother had texted her to let her know that Granny had cancelled their plans for dinner that evening.
            Sophie had feigned disappointment at the news, truthfully though, she had not been in the mood to have her grandmother lecture her on how she wasn’t in a relationship, how she wasn’t living on her own yet, and how her pursuit of a master’s degree had yet to produce a meaningful career. Yes, Sophie was in a slump: she was moving back home into her mother’s house after her roommates decided to fall in love, marry, and move to the suburbs; and no, she had yet to find any job that would allow her to pay for her own apartment.
            It’s not like Sophie wanted to move back home. At least her mother was being supportive. She would not have to pay rent and would have some place safe to stay while she looked for work that she wanted to do; or at the very least would pay well. Nearly all of her personal belongings were already at her mother’s home, and after leaving her old apartment for good, all she had on her was her new used treasures, her sketch book that she took everywhere, the toiletries from her apartment and last night’s pajamas.
            Her luck for the day changed when the city bus suddenly lurched forward, sending herself and all the other passengers flying from their seats. Then a clunk, a sputter, and a horrid grinding sound. Finally puffs of white smoke billowed out of the engine. Everyone exited relatively unscathed and stood on the sidewalk and watched as the befuddled bus driver attempted to resuscitate the dead jalopy. A relief bus was on its way, but it was going to be a while, and would be crowded. Sophie looked at the intersection and estimated that the walk home would be two hours tops; too late to be home for dinner but that wasn’t a problem anymore. And so, Sophie continued the rest of her journey on foot.
            The weather was sunny and cool, and Sophie took the time walking to contemplate her current situation. She had been searching for jobs but had been met with rejection after rejection: you do not have the qualifications necessary for our position; your qualifications are great, but you don’t have enough experience; you seem to be overqualified for this position, but we will keep your resume on file. The money Sophie had in savings was nearly depleted; she didn’t want to go back to a job as a part-time barista; and online commission work wasn’t enough to live off of. She was starting to feel desperate for something, anything in her field.
            Sophie traversed the city sidewalks at a steady pace, mindful not to step on any cracks, a habit picked up from childhood. It started out as some old superstition which then evolved into a routine, an odd competition in which no one but her was competing. Sophie smiled to herself watching her shadow and her feet step one after the other indifferent to the sounds of the street around her. Soon enough, the darkness of her shadow faded, and the colour of the pavement greyed as shadows gathered over head. Sophie looked up and watch the rain come down; a light drizzle quickly turning into a torrential downpour. A large raindrop landed in her eye causing her to shake her rub her eyes until tears washed out any foreign particles and she could see clearly again; she was standing on a crack in the sidewalk. Bad luck.
            Sophie didn’t have time to dwell on what her bad luck might be as she sought to closest shelter she could, a storefront awning. It was an unassuming building, windows plastered with pictures of far away landscapes, sunset beaches, and tropical flowers. Above the door read the name Eastern to Western Expeditions. Slightly below the store name, at eye level with Sophie, was handwritten sign on what looked like a scrap piece of orange neon cardboard: Help needed URGENTLY! No experience necessary, Inquire within.
            The rain showed no signs of letting up any time soon, and it seemed to Sophie as though the gods themselves had placed her in this spot, at this moment for a reason. At the very least, she would be foolish not to inquire about the job. She opened the door and stepped inside.
********
            The chimes at the door rang softly as Sophie stumbled through the threshold. Without any grace she quickly regained her balance. The entrance, it seemed, was a few inches higher than the pavement outside. Sophie scanned the open room to make sure there were no witnesses to her dramatic entrance; there was no one. Despite the crisp white walls, the room was dimly lit due to the lack of natural light blocked by pictures on the shop front window and overhead lights were only giving off a faint warm glow. Probably for the ambiance, Sophie assumed, the floor was carpeted in bamboo mats, the wall art took inspiration from Ming Dynasty art. A desk stood near the back of the room, solid mahogany. No computer or land line, just a small bonsai, a desk sized rock garden with mini rake, and a Tiffany lamp with intricate lotus petals coloured pink and white.
            A woman stepped through the beaded doorway with a Staff Only sign above. An Asian woman, slightly taller than Sophie. Her skin was as close to porcelain as Sophie had ever seen. Her dark, lustrous hair tied tightly back in a low ponytail showing off her prominent widow’s peak; not a single strand of hair was out of place. She was wearing white pants and a blazer with hints of a cream frilled blouse underneath. Poor Sophie was so awestruck as the woman met her gaze and smiled that she didn’t even register the peculiarity of what was in the strange woman’s hand: a tray with a tea pot and two cups, already steeped as though this was the exact time tea was to be served. The woman sat down quietly behind the desk and Sophie unthinkingly sat on the other side.
            “Unusual weather we are having today,” the woman said as she handed Sophie a cup of tea.
            “Yeah,” Sophie replied wordlessly, grasping the cup with both hands. The warmth of the cup made her suddenly aware of the coolness of the room. After a few seconds, which seemed to Sophie like eras, she finally spoke to the woman; “I saw the sign on your door.”
            The woman laughed. The sound of her laugh was warm and comforting to Sophie, it put her at ease. It reminded her of the way her mother would laugh at her childhood antics. Sophie felt like she would say or do anything to hear that laugh again. “I was wondering when someone would take notice of my sign. It has been up for quite a while, but you are the first to inquire about it.”
            This is my sign Sophie thought to herself Luck is on my side. “As it stands, I am currently unemployed, and I am looking for work. I don’t have a resume on hand, but I can gladly email a copy to you. I just thought I would come inside and introduce myself first and…” Sophie began to feel her breath escape from her, bringing along with it any sense of self-assuredness and cohesion.  and inquire about the nature of the job you have advertised… and… it’s raining outside.”
            The woman across from Sophie smiled as she took a sip from her cup. There was no sign of judgement on her face. She spoke with a soft authority. “I pride myself as a good judge of character, and I believe you may be an excellent candidate for the position.”
            Sophie relaxed her shoulders as she exhaled and decided to take a sip of the tea. It was bitter, but not unpleasant. “Are you looking for an administrative position? I don’t have any formal experience, but I appreciate the importance of keeping organized files and detailed record keeping. As a master’s student I had to…”
            “Oh no, no,” the woman interrupted Sophie. “This is not an administrative position. I have been contracted by a client of mine to seeking an assistant on an expedition. This is a travel agency of sorts. We cater to individuals who are interested in more meaningful travel experience; off the beaten path, away from crowded tourist spots and immerse themselves in cultural customs and natural wildlife in small tour groups with a low carbon footprint.”
            Whatever remaining confidence Sophie had quickly begun to seep away. “You would need me to travel?”
            The woman nodded.
            “Like, travel out of the country travel?”
            “I can assure you that you will be completely safe on this excursion.”        
            Despite the woman’s smile the genuineness of her voice, Sophie was anything but assured. Her passport had expired two years ago. What vaccines would she need? Would she need travel visas? Was this a front for human trafficking? Am I being trafficked right now? Sophie calmly placed her teacup on the table as she began to plan her exit strategy. Why were there two cups of tea? How did she know someone was coming? I’m being punked? Is that still a thing? I’m on camera right now? Sophie mustered a smile on her face, “Like I said, I just wanted to pop in and inquire. I will definitely send you a resume later on tonight… or tomorrow.” As Sophie stood up to leave for the exit, the woman rose as well with an unnatural grace which left Sophie speechless.
            “I appreciate you coming in” the woman said guiding the bewildered Sophie to the front door. She had her hand on Sophie’s shoulder. Just get out of this place and never think about it again. Just get out of this place. Just get out of this place. Sophie repeated the mantra in her head. It was the only way she could keep her composure. She barely noticed the sound of chimes as the woman opened the door for her.
            “It was a pleasure to meet you…”
            Sophie was barely paying attention to what the woman was saying. Just step out the door and go home. You are going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.
            “…and Sophie?” the woman’s voice was sounded somewhat empathetic.
            I didn’t tell her my name.
            “Mind that first step.”
            With a firm push from the woman, Sophie fell forward. Not into the rainy street but into complete darkness.
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I wonder what they’re talking about.
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sysig · 5 months
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Permission to headbutt: Granted (Patreon)
#My art#UT#Sans#Papyrus#Ft. something smol and I do on a regular basis ♪#This could be Handplates or it could be classic Undertale I leave that up to you lol#I definitely picked up a lot of the style quirks lol - but there are some of the ones that I like myself! Like Papyrus' darkmode clothes lol#And Sans' shorts having the stripe in the front haha - little details ♫#Realistically it probably is Handplates tho just based on where my head's at lol - I love the Handplates dynamic :D#Handplates#I talked myself into it! Pfft ♪#I found myself relating a lot to Sans especially while rereading - I want nothing more in the world than for my siblings to be happy! <3#So I gathered up a bunch of ideas of things especially me and smol do together and this was the most obviously cute one haha#Easiest to do! Tho I did still go a little extra on this lol#I'm trying to do more digital stuff ♪ It wasn't the best art day and I'm still a little nervous to jump right in :')#Not doing any sketches on paper beforehand feels weird but I guess it is thematic in a way lol#And I'm still pleased with how they turned out hehe#It really does feel nice to be drawing them again <3#And doing silly sibling things! Hehe#I dunno how clear it is since it's so ingrained into how smol and I talk to each other lol family language!#One of us will literally just announce ''bonk'' and the other will prepare for/lean in for a headbutt haha#She is a tiny bit taller than me - it's not quite /this/ extreme but she does lean down for me! S'cute <3#I like to think Papyrus would do the same hehe ♪ Let your lazy brother headbutt you! He can only reach so far!#On minimal effort anyhow hehe#It's just a fun way to be silly together ♫♪#Also yes I did show this to her and she cosigned lol - ''Cute'' -smol
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breadmecoshy · 6 months
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Why are you looking at me like you care?
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mroddmod · 2 months
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little scrapped comic bc it felt a bit ooc to me in hindsight
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dizzybizz · 1 year
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back together but at what cost...
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ineed-to-sleep · 4 months
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Sometimes I have a man..... living in my brain...... who is so so beautiful................
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moon-mirage · 10 months
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I'm almost there, almost to the barricade, when I think she hears me. Because for just a moment, she catches sight of me, her lips form my name.
And that's when the rest of the parachutes go off.
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0vergrowngraveyard · 4 months
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"tails" takes an L
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I just think crossbones is neat.. an alright dude you know?
Obsession? Whattt nooo…
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I could not resist the urge to sketch the Pangur (from @pangur-and-grim)! She looked so cute and mighty, I hope I did her justice enough 💚
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flowery-laser-blasts · 3 months
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"For you, I'd do anything."
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ghosttrolls · 5 months
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He's jumping for joy
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