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#gaming soft
53v3nfrn5 · 3 months
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Aya Brea of ‘Parasite Eve’ (1998) Art: Tetsuya Nomura
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saewokhrisz · 1 year
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back with the left handed drawing cuz my dominant one is dead as hell, as per usual
somft thanzag...
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sun-e-chips · 2 months
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Are we supposed to ignore that Sun can do LITERAL MAGIC in help wanted 2!!!
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It’s canon
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soft-cryptids · 1 year
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“Nice.”
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elsyrel · 4 months
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I create with the sole purpose of feeding my own fantasies
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taktitty · 7 months
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Staring problem
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Hiiiii could you do a fic where reader is pregnant for the first time? I need more soft!young president coriolanus so so bad
Soft as Snow || Young President!Coriolanus snow x reader
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A/n: thank you for this request anon!! I need more soft coryo too 🥹
Warnings: fem!reader, mention of death
Wc: 860
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Divider by @firefly-graphics
In the opulent sun room of the presidential mansion that you call your home, you sat in a plush chair with a bowl of fresh lychee perched carefully on your pregnant belly. The brightly lit room, adorned with decadent furnishings, seemed to reflect the weight of the world you carried not only as the First Lady but also as a soon-to-be-mother.
The door cracked open and Coriolanus entered with an air of authority that seemed to dissipate as he laid eyes on you, his precious wife. Coryo gestured the servants to leave the two of you alone as his steely gaze softened, and a small, genuine smile graced his lips as he approached.
"May I?" he gestured toward the empty space on the chair beside you. You nodded with an eager smile and he took a seat, his eyes fixed on your protruding belly which was covered by the softness of your silk dress. Gently, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. "How are you feeling, my love?"
His voice, usually reserved and commanding to people outside of his inner circle, held a tenderness and softness that sent a comforting shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but smile at the sincerity in his question.
"I'm well, Coryo. Our baby seems to be quite content by these lychees," You chuckle as your rub your stomach. Coryo smiles, lychees were a rare fruit to come by this time of year but he made sure that you were fed only the most juiciest, ripe, lychees.
"I'm glad," he hums. His hand finds its way to your belly, fingers tracing delicate patterns on the fabric of your dress, ghosting over your skin underneath. "It's a remarkable thing, life," he mused, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions—awe, anticipation, and a hint of vulnerability.
You watch him knowing where his mind was at. The thought of his mother dying during birth along with his baby sister. You knew that he was scared. Scared that maybe you would have the same fate as his late mother. But you assured Coryo, that times have changed and that you would be alright.
The weight of his responsibilities seemed to momentarily fade as he focused on you and the life growing inside you. Your fingers dipped into the fruit bowl, a lychee in between your fingers as you bring it to your lips, Coriolanus watching with fascination. The atmosphere hung in a delicate balance, as if time itself had slowed down to savour this tranquil interlude.
"Have you thought about names," he asked, breaking the silence. You chuckled softly, the sound echoing through the room, "I have actually. Vicky," you watch Snow's features contort into a mixture of emotions.
"Vicky. like my mothers-" "Yes, like your mother's name." You interrupt him as your thumb brushes over the back of his hand, a comforting gesture that spoke volumes. "I love it. Vicky Snow," He says with a smile on his face.
As you continued to share the bowl of fruit, the conversation drifted from politics to dreams, hopes and the shared future that awaited your family. Coriolanus, a man known for his strategic mind and politics, revealed a more vulnerable side, a side reserved for you, his wife carrying his child.
Time slipped away, and the room glowered in the soft hues of twilight. Coriolanus stood, his eyes lingering on you with an affectionate gaze. "I've got state matters to deal with, my dear. Just know, you and our child are always on my mind."
~
Days turned into weeks, and the swell of your belly grew more pronounced. The Capitol buzzed with excitement over the impending arrival of the newest member of the Snow legacy. Coriolanus, ever the stoic leader, became a pillar of support, attending to your needs with a grace that contradicted his ruthless reputation.
One evening, as the two of you stood on the balcony overlooking the Capitol, he wrapped his arms around you, his hands resting protectively on your belly. The lights of the city below shimmered like a sea of stars, and for a moment, it felt like the world paused to witness the union of power and vulnerability.
As the days dwindled down to the eagerly anticipated arrival, Coriolanus stood by your side, a beacon of strength. The birthing room, stark and sterile, contrasted sharply with the opulence of the Capitol. Yet, in that space, you found an intimacy that transcended the political stage.
The first cry of your newborn filled the room, and Coriolanus held the tiny bundle in his arms with a reverence that bordered on awe. His usually composed demeanor crumbled, replaced by the unfiltered joy of fatherhood.
"She's so beautiful, just like her mother," He whispers, his eyes never leaving the small face nestled in his arms. "Thank you, thank you for gifting me a gift beyond measure," Coryo looks at you as you couldn't help but let a teardrop roll down your cheek as you gazed at the future you had brought into the word.
You couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected beauty that had blossomed in the heart of the Capitol's calculated power.
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wszczebrzyszynie · 7 months
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cool game
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emry-stars-art · 9 months
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I still need practice, but digital coloring is getting a little easier 💕
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acquired-stardust · 7 days
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Final Fantasy VII Playstation 1997
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greenglowinspooks · 5 months
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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (pt. 2)
Tw: N/A
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Pt. 1 here) - (Pt. 3 here)
(Masterlist/subscription post)
It was a beautiful morning. Somehow, against all odds, the sun was shining through the thick smog perpetually covering Gotham.
And Danny hated it.
He was in pain, he was exhausted, he was grieving, and all he wanted to do was sleep for at least a week.
In an act of celestial mockery, the sun shone regardless.
After around twenty minutes of tossing and turning in bed, trying to get back to sleep, Danny gave up and pried himself out of bed.
He stumbled through the hallway and into the living room, staring openly at every splash of color he saw in the small apartment. He hadn’t forgotten what color looked like in the time he was in the lab, but it was comforting to see.
Someone cleared their throat. Danny whipped his head around, eyes falling on a scrawny, gangly man sitting down in a worn armchair, hunched over a laptop. He was looking at him with a dull, bored expression.
Right. Scarecrow.
His escape.
The chase.
His mom.
“You look a lot less terrifying without the mask,” Danny blurted out, slapping his hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean that.”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t call my normal appearance frightening,” Scarecrow hummed, focusing his attention back onto the laptop, “that’s what the costume is for, after all.”
“Oh.”
After a brief moment of excruciating silence, Scarecrow spoke.
“You any good with computers, Danny? Hacking, and all that?”
Danny jolted. Scarecrow needed his help with something! This was great! Now, he’d have more of a reason not to get rid of him!
“Oh, uh, yeah! Not as good as my friend Tucker, but I think I’m pretty good.”
“And you’re familiar with the GiW’s systems specifically,” Scarecrow continued, beckoning him over. Danny complied, shuffling over awkwardly. “Right?”
“Well, I guess? My friends and I got into their stuff a couple of times before they…”
“Wonderful,” Scarecrow said, standing up with a stretch. He shoved the laptop into Danny’s hands and gestured for him to sit down on the couch. “Then you can hack into their system and extract whatever files you can find.”
Danny stared at the man like he’d lost his mind. He looked back at him expectantly.
Danny sat down.
“Yeah, I-I can do that. Tuck and I built a back door into their system ages ago,” he said, checking the screen. It was clear that for all the skills that Scarecrow had, hacking was definitely not one of them. “But, uh, don’t you have someone else that usually does this sort of thing for you? Not that I’m complaining!”
Scarecrow scowled, and Danny felt his heart fall into his ass.
“Usually, I do,” Scarecrow huffed, “but I chose to leave my most recent job with the Penguin early, so now there’s no way that he or Eddie will help me with anything until I make it up to them somehow.”
“Oh,” Danny said.
He had no clue whatsoever who Eddie was.
Danny got to work quickly, hoping that if he ignored the gangly man, he would leave him be. Luckily, he did just that, leaving to go work on something in another room.
Danny checked the laptop’s security before continuing Scarecrow’s progress, making sure that the GiW wouldn’t be able to grab their location.
It was…threateningly good. Whoever Eddie was, he had somehow crammed the functionality of a top-of-the-line PC into a tiny, beat-up old laptop. It almost reminded Danny of Tucker and his terrifying competence with his PDA.
Tucker.
Amity park.
Home.
Danny snapped himself out of his thoughts, tabbing back into the application Scarecrow had up and began to work his magic.
He had near full access to the entire GiW database within half an hour.
Mumbling out a quick thank-you to Tucker, he called Scarecrow over to appraise his work.
“Fixed up some food for you while you worked,” the rogue said, handing him a bowl of oatmeal, taking the laptop into his lap as he did so, “didn’t know how well you could eat, considering you’re recovering from… surgery, so I decided to stay on the safe side.”
Danny had no clue what this guy’s deal was.
He definitely did not tear up at the first genuine thoughtfulness he encountered in weeks, and he did not look away as he ate so that Scarecrow couldn’t see his face.
At least Scarecrow was too focused on the laptop to notice or care.
Or, maybe, he was just mercifully ignoring him.
Either way, Danny ate slowly, not wanting to make himself sick. He allowed himself to absentmindedly look around the room for the first time, taking everything in.
It was strangely homey. The space was filled with warm browns and yellows, a few splashes of color on the wall in the form of (obviously gifted) paintings. There was a beat-up bookshelf against the wall, clearly second-hand, filled to the brim with psychology books. On every available surface there was a different colored candle, all at different stages of use, clearly collected over the course of years.
Danny knew that the man next to him was a crazed, murderous criminal, but his home was oddly reminiscent of Jazz.
He was not about to cry.
“Danny,” Scarecrow hummed, snapping him out of his spiraling, “can you explain this to me?”
He looked over. The rogue was pointing to a new report, seemingly posted only a few hours ago.
Nodding, he took the computer into his lap, pouring over the contents.
He read the report again.
And again.
And again.
Danny swore loudly, crumpling like a wet paper bag, head in his hands.
“What?”
“It’s…” he swore again, glancing back at the laptop, “they…since you became liminal from synthetic ectoplasm, when we’re within about 500 meters of one another, our ectoplasm signatures resonate, and they can’t track us with any of their technology.”
“How is that a bad thing?”
“If we’re not that close to each other, they can track us down from anywhere in the world.”
Scarecrow went dead quiet. After what felt like the single longest minute of Danny’s life, he let out a truly exasperated sigh, slumping over in his seat.
“Yeah, me too,” Danny mumbled, utterly miserable.
“…I’ll have to move my plans back a little,” Scarecrow sighed, “I can’t drag an injured child with me when I attack the Gotham GiW base, you’ll just get in the way.”
“Oh come on,” Danny whined, “I can take care of myself just fine. Besides, Batman brings kids with him to do dangerous stuff all the time, and he’s fine!”
“Might I remind you that the second Robin died violently,” Scarecrow snapped, “and that Batman most likely has more traumatic brain injuries than all of the Gotham rogues combined. That really isn’t the winning argument you think it is.”
Danny paused, trying to think up some way to win the argument. Then, he realized what he had ignored before.
“Wait, Scarecrow, you’re gonna attack the GiW?”
“That’s the plan,” he nodded, “and call me Dr. Crane. I’m only Scarecrow when I’m in the mask.”
But,” Danny sputtered, “Sca—uh, Dr. Crane—that’s insane! The weapons they’ve got- they’ll rip you apart!”
“Not my first time,” Crane said, making Danny wince. “Besides, I have plenty of experience avoiding gunfire. I’ll live.”
“You…” Danny was silent for a while, trying to think of something to say, “fine, but you have to take me with you wherever you go. As soon as they see either of us on their radars, they’ll hunt us down.”
Dr. Crane sighed.
“…Fine. I need some time to plan anyways. Now, you’re going to help me download these files, properly format them, and send them out.”
“…Why?”
“Well, some of the other rogues might appreciate the heads up, and I’d quite like them to be indebted to me. Besides, I still need to pay back the Penguin for ditching him, and he loves knowing things that other people don’t.”
Danny paused.
“That’s an awful idea, no offense. If any of the rogues know our weaknesses, they—”
“Danny, we’re censoring everything. The only things they need to know about are the GiW specifically, and any sort of laws surrounding them.”
Danny snorted.
“You care about laws now?”
“Yes, because if we get taken to Arkham, they’ll hand us off to the GiW the moment they ask, and it’ll be completely legal.”
Oh. Danny had honestly forgotten that Arkham was an option.
“…Ok. I’ll help you. Who are we telling?”
“I don’t think you really need to know,” Dr. Crane said, the faintest shadow of an amused look on his face, “but I’ll humor you for now. We’re sending the files out to the Penguin, Riddler, Poison Ivy via Harley Quinn, Two-Face, and Red Hood.”
Danny nodded. He could live with that.
“Alright, then let’s get to work.”
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llonelygoddess · 6 months
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Yandere House Stark Headcanons
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A/N: I ended up not doing Bran and Rickon only because I wanted to get this out sooner rather than later and they were a little difficult to write for. If you'd like to see headcanons for them I can definitely make another post for them, just let me know.
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Let's say you are a low born person looking for refuge in Winterfell after your village was sacked by Wildlings. You had hoped to find some tavern to hold up in or even a brothel, but unbeknownst to you the Stark family kept an eye on newcomers. When they received news of your arrival, they requested your presence. It was only to talk about the possibility of nearby Wildlings, but when YOU showed up beaten and scared for your life- how could they not offer their Stark hospitality?
This is where the yandere tendencies begin.
Ned Stark, as a yandere, is protective and definitely has a savior complex. He's an honorable and just man that can't help but bring home strays, so when he sees you it's like finding Jon all over again. A deep sense of responsibility comes over him and he knows in that moment that you are just as much his as any of his kids. From that day forward he assigns a room for you in the castle and a handmaiden to keep you company, not that you'll be needing it. The family of course is shocked at his sudden interest, but they all love to see him happy and nothing makes him more happy than seeing you taken care of.
Now Catelyn is initially worried that Ned has taken a romantic interest in you, but when she sees the way you both interact she understands the fatherly bond he is trying to create very similar to his own kids. It didn't take long for her to fall into her own yandere tendencies; checking in on you in the mornings, making prayer wheels even when you're not sick, helping in the kitchen to make sure your food was perfect ( and not poisoned). She takes her role as your surrogate mother very seriously,sometimes to the extent of watching you sleep or ordering guards to discreetly watch over you and report back. Her biggest worry is that you'll be taken away from them so she takes extra precautions to keep you safe.
Robb is head over heels for you instantly. Man is down bad. Much like his father, Robb has a savior complex and finds himself wanting to be YOUR savior always. He does this by training extra hard with Jon, keeping an eye on you at all times, and giving threatening looks to any man or woman who gets too close to you. He doesn’t mean to scare away any potential friends but he does mean to scare away potential lovers. He couldn’t bear to see you with anyone outside the family, and even then he has a sword up his butt about it. 
On the other hand, Jon takes a while to warm up to you. He loves his family and is vicious to outsiders who could harm them. Eventually, seeing how you interact with everyone makes him a tad jealous. Not of you, but of his family and how easily they can approach you. I definitely see Jon as an overprotective/stalker yandere with strong jealous tendencies that make him beg for your approval. He finds himself wherever you are, lurking in the background, waiting for the right moment to catch you alone. Jon feels like himself around you and the more time you spend together the more addicted to your presence he becomes. 
Theon is hands down THE worshiper of the group. It's a hot take for sure but as a yandere, I see Theon's insecurities and fears taking over, slightly similar to reek!Theon. He sees you as a deity, above the Lords and Ladies, even above the King/Queen themself. If it were up to him he'd be the one giving you your meals, running your baths, standing by your side as guard. He cherishes your very presence and hopes one day you'll see his never ending loyalty to you and only you. 
Sansa is very quiet about her obsession, you almost couldn't tell. She's the perfect friend, always sitting next to you at meals, gossiping about the Lords and Lady's of court, and helping you stock your wardrobe. Whatever hobby you choose to pick up, she's always there to praise you in your efforts and guide you in whatever way she can. She especially loves teaching you how to embroider as it's her specialty. It was all but normal until you came upon her private journal filled with both your names in beautiful cursive surrounded by hearts. You begin to notice the closeness she silently demands, eyeing everyone else to stay away. You see the way she longingly watches you from afar when you choose to spend time with anyone else. And your dresses, that you both so carefully picked out, seem to have a little embroidered "SS" on the nape of your neck.
Arya sees you as her golden older sibling, the one who can do no wrong. She is constantly dragging you around Winterfell - riding horses and trying to shoot arrows (and failing lol). She finds comfort within you, the only person who doesn't expect anything of her except to be herself. And for that she will never leave your side. Most nights you'll find her trying to sneak into your room to share a bed, but whether she can get past the guards Ned and Catelyn have posted outside your door is another story.
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theonewhowails · 4 months
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Golden Fleece
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broh3m3 · 12 days
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savannaclaw im begging you......
may i interest u in some ruggies and an icon
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technically jacks my favourite out of the three, but i haven't drawn him yet 🧍‍♀️ gotta fix that
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lifeofbrybooks · 1 month
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You ever think about how Seth was supposed to be the first one to make it? The first Fox to fulfill the five-year contract. The only fifth-year senior after the rest of Wymack’s original team walked out or opted to graduate in four years. Seth stuck it out despite being given every chance to bail. And I wonder how many times Wymack thought about that. Seth was an asshole. He had a big mouth and never knew when to shut it. He had so much passion but didn’t know how to use it. He got in his own way with every single step. And maybe Wymack knew Seth was a dead man walking from the day he signed the striker, could see it but still tried his damnedest to help the kid knock the chip off his shoulder and be something. They were so close. So very close. To validation for both of them. But the last of Wymack’s first batch of Foxes is dead. And he has to look at his remaining kids and wonder how many will even make it through the year let alone to graduation. What can he do when his best isn’t good enough? Give himself another chance.
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terrietont · 7 days
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Something inspired by @chloesimaginationthings because who could blame Vanny anyway?
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