working with renpy to try and make a small test section to see if i like visual novel making. I have learned how to make a choice menu appear!

Been a while, but more P5 x Omori battle screens‼️ This time with Goro Akechi fights 💔

● Extra P5 x Omori battle screens

Li'l bb girl WIP

Been a while!! So many things happened and long story short, I (along with other great DMs) had the pleasure of hosting oneshots for newbies in the first ever RenFaire in our country!! Anyway that's why I've been away for so long lol.

Back to usual sharty business

Thank you Ever Crisis for proving to me that Sephiroth can break my heart at age 14-15 just as easily as he did from ages 22 to 30.

Something something homosexuals

Dogstock are typical of what are often deemed the ‘evil’ races in many other fantasy works. They were created by some higher force to be slaves, they are carnivorous by nature, they resemble animals other than human in dentition and build. They growl and bite and walk behind.

The Uhasr (a dogstock culture) are descendants of such slave-infantry that was abandoned when the empire that used them to capture the steppes decided the land wasn’t so profitable after all, and more pressing matters drew their attention elsewhere. Like tools left spent on the ground, the unneeded, excess dogstock were left to survive on their own in Hochkiskuph. The native peoples, of course, did not welcome them any more, or see them any less as oppressors when the hand released the lead. To the Hochkiskuph peoples, the Uhasr are a predatory ghost, an echo that consumes them even in absentia. To the Uhasr, one human is much like another, differing in number and equipment, but never in essence. Uhasr are a species of wild animal with a human face. Humans are prey on two legs. Humans smoke and poison uncovered dens on principle, Uhasr abduct and consume men and women and children all the same.

A common trend I have noticed in media which aims to humanize monsters, is that it often relies on passivity. Humanity is contingent upon kindness. The monster that is A Person only so long as they are a harmless thing at heart, something which can be understood and befriended. Their violence is reluctant, their hearts noble. Grace is a concession to the dominated. Only the toothless beast, declawed and pinioned and caged, is one which has earned its personhood. The ontological enemy supersedes the ontological man.

Thanks for the tags @indestructibleheart, @kiwiana-writes, and @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, and also thank you to everyone who tagged me in Sunday games and the last line thing, which I'm not going to try to dig up here. I'm sure you're wondering what I'm working on now that False Dichotomy is posting; sadly (for those who tagged me lol), I haven't been writing RWRB lately not exactly anyway. My plan is to bang out some fandom fest prompts, my delinquent MTH fic, then ??? (probably start working on my big bang fic tbh).

ANYWAY. This is what's up next.

They’ve had easier jobs, that’s for damned sure. Protecting an entire train of stagecoaches was always going to be a strain on his crew, especially through this territory. They’re good, but they’re not that good. Mobius should have insisted that the client cough up the money to bring on another couple of folks, but they’d been reluctant and Mobius hadn’t wanted to risk the job going to someone else. And really, against most bandits, they’d probably have been fine. They weren’t up against most bandits, though. Mobius flips a blood-streaked silver dollar at the barkeep and collects a bottle of whiskey and four glasses in return without a single word exchanged. His crew is damn-near legendary in these parts; people vacate ‘their’ table when they enter the saloon, tip their hats when they pass on the road, and generally treat them with the kind of wary respect they’ve worked hard to cultivate. Mobius’ crew may be nominally ‘good’ guys, but a hard world makes hard people, especially ones who are hired to protect what passes for civilization out west.

A pile of no pressure tags @rmd-writes, @cricketnationrise, @indomitable-love, @dumbpeachjuice, @myheartalivewrites, @leaves-of-laurelin, @anchoredarchangel, @nicijones, @loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @justabigoldnerd, @firenati0n, @14carrotghoul, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @ships-to-sail, @sherryvalli, @inexplicablymine, @iboatedhere, @tintagel-or-cockleshells, @orchidscript, @three-drink-amy, @ninzied, @mirilyawrites, @dewdropreader, @dreamycloud, @ikeepwatchinghelicopters

And some art wip tags too, perhaps? @wolfpup026, @natendo-art, @bighandsforabigheart, @seanchaidh7

Hello webnoir fans, ive lost control.

There should be more content of them with a healthy relationship me thinks

Ink belongs to comyet

Palette belongs to lasserbatsu

Also look at these freaking creatures I made for height reference

Future Au stuff yknow. just some sweet shit for the mind :))) (i havent rlly designed future Usagi yet so sorry lol)

Instead of leaving a comment on a fic like a decent human being, I decided that it was a good idea to set myself up for an art project that is 50% landscape and fabric and colours I rarely-if-ever get to use oops X"D

On an unrelated note, did you know that @brightmouth 's Lessons in Idle Ecstasies is fucking great?? (All her writing is, really, I just have so much reading I need to catch up on, I've been too busy trying to figure out how to paint rocks and mountains and things I thought I knew how to paint ^^; )

the BIGGEST EEPERS

favourite running gag: Maul talks in cursive while everyone else talks in normal comic font.

SMALLS

WIP Wednesday 12-27-23 (Closed) | Smalls AU

"A fellow woman of taste I see." Her waitress offers her hand, "My name is Ash." she says

Janie takes it and shakes her hand. "A comrade in arms." she says.

"Yeah, the arms definitely have a lot to do with it." she agrees and Janie laughs releasing her hand. "As for another bookstore, one with a less irritating owner," she says pointedly, "I'd try 4th street and Den rd." she says.

"Den?" Janie asks.

"I didn't name the streets." Ash shrugs.

Janie nods, figuring that was true, it's not like the waitress decided to continue various Fox theme street names.

Anybody else here using sheezy art (newly updating website meant to replicate old dA style)... I'd love to follow/friend/watch/whatever it's called you❤️.

fleeting

Van's always been the kind of person who develops fleeting crushes on friends. There's a kind of relief in the temporary nature of these feelings before they level out. She doesn't mind.

Most of the time.

(based on conversation with @owltrifecta)

T, 6807 words

Some things, Van reasons, just aren’t meant to last. Some things aren’t meant to last, and that’s fine. More than fine. Refreshing. Fantastic, in its own way. They’re like summer rainstorms: brief, punchy, and easily forgotten. Not everything’s like this. Her mother’s always predictable, always gonna be. Off at five, drunk by six: the Vicky Palmer way. Movies, too, are a certainty. Feelings for Michelle Pfeiffer, for example, are eternal; god bless Grease 2, god bless Catwoman. But other things—things like the warm, gooey feelings that drum up when another girl laughs at her jokes—don’t stick around long. It’s good that way. Reassuring. None of them last, so there’s no reason to worry. No reason to think about it much at all.