I really like it when people draw techno as just. The guy
Clocking in at a solid yummy here
@somebodythatwantstoperish Can I see da boi?
My Techno really decided to be rip off Hulk, huh?
With a twist: he doesn’t care if you hurt him. Not a bit. Right before his death, his last view was Phil’s ankle monitor.
And you DON’T hurt Phil.
Totems of undying can have… unexpected side effects.
Asking for no reason ;)
*Something bad happens*
Siren: This is a tragedy, a horrific event.
Siren: ….Pallas play Despac-
*Sees monster man with angsty backstory*
Low-effort Split Monsters
The Watcher was no monster.
So he intervened.
The world went back to normal, Christine was alive.
But Strange. Doomed to be the monster he crafted himself to be, never feeling normalcy till Christine can fall in love, not with the handsome doctor, but with the broken beast.
-The One You Lost to Time-
When her prowess in battle gets her promoted, Halfbloom is surprised. When she and the King become friends, she’s even more surprised.
But when they are captured by a mage and turned into their greatest fears?
She’s downright shocked.
After all, it’s hard to accept that one’s closest friend is now a mindless beast.
Just a bit of my favorite trope :)
A Gift of a Better Kind- Part Eleven
What is that?!
It was like some addled deity had mashed several different monstrosities into one another and this was the end result. Hunched almost in half, a beast stood before me, slimy and grey, like a drowned corpse.
And it was holding my hand.
Oh. Oh no.
Grotesque wasn’t enough, neither was horrific. Heart-stoppingly monstrous might do it. Like Prometheus’ first attempt at a man, or the personification of muck.
It was Moreau.
He was crying, a horrible grating sound, as he covered his face with his hands.
What could I do? Nothing. I shivered, cold creeping through my body, till I was frozen completely.
My head dropped. Whether from the desire to see anything but that or simply from shock I didn’t know. My hands, tightly balled, one coated with a pale green slime. I had touched him, and I was not dead or infected, he didn’t harm me. His touch came not from force, but from a deprivation which had been difficult to show at first.
I winced involuntarily. This pitiful creature before me was no monster, but a man over whom I held power, what true beast cringes in the light of rejection?
I jerked my head upward, a conscious decision now. He was still weeping, muffled behind the hands I knew so well by touch. Moreau. Oh dear.
I stood, shaking still but determined, and pulled his hands down slowly. They were cold again, wet with slime and tears, but I claimed them once again as I cradled them in my own. I let out my breath, and drew my gaze up to his.
His face certainly held no beauty, there was no denying it. A twisted parody, whether of a man or a fish I could not say. But… his eyes. Spilling tears so freely, held deep inside a soul of loveliness. A soul that bore wounds I could not even imagine. Before I could stop them, my fingers were caressing his cheeks, wiping away the flow as best they could.
It worked, or perhaps he stopped crying from surprise, I did not care. I smiled, pulling him back down to sit with me again. And began to sing.
It was her blindfold. His last defense, his last hope, torn off by nature’s cruel gales. He heard a strangled noise, and he didn’t need to look up to see her expression.
But he did. Hands flew from his, eyes wild, skin as pale as the snow that refused to melt.
She was horrified, and worse, she would leave. He could not stop her, not now, not ever. Who would keep such a treasure hidden away so selfishly? Who would force the woman he lov-
Jolie dropped her head, and Moreau realized that the strange sobbing sounds were his. Miserably he clapped his hands over his face, trying to muffle the awful sounds. She did not deserve to hear his selfish cries, how could he think only of his own pain when her eyes had been forced to bear the image of him.
His eyes being blocked, he did not see Jolie reaching toward him until-
Beauty and the Beast story number 8,675,465 is forcing its way into my brain 😔😡😬
More healed AU please?
Heck yeah let’s go!!
-Her daughters discover malls and the internet. She’s totally doomed.
-Her new abode is a lovely yellow mansion on one of many low sloping hills. Her favorite thing to do is walk through the grape arbors as the sun sets and enjoy this strange new freedom.
-Since they aren’t allowed human blood, she sets her daughters to the task of eliminating the pests that plague her grapes. When people visit unexpectedly they think Alcina has a bunch of cats. The girls like to leave “gifts” just to bug her.
-Absolutely a neat freak. Will randomly grap servants and lift them up to show them a dusty surface they missed.
-Spoils and scolds her daughters in turn, as tough as she tries to be on them they inevitably get away with several war crimes.
-Eventually she gets the courage to open a little arts and crafts store, since even though her Etsy was monetarily profitable, she was still very alone.
-Pretends Angie’s her ventriloquist dummy while she’s working, people stare a little but her wares are top quality so they don’t mind too much.
-Her scar does disturb people a bit, but one day when she’s very low someone tells her it “looks badass”. She can’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.
-Has on the phone spa days with Alcina where they paint their nails and lovingly harass each othet for “not getting out more”.
-Once she realizes you can paint whole rooms their is no stopping her, ever room in her house changes color so frequently most people wouldn’t recognize it a week after they saw it.
-Admittedly most rooms are various shades of purple but no one could ever guess her favorite color. Right?
-Has a love hate relationship with large bodies of water now. He’s loved them since he first toddled into the ocean, but there’s…. less positive memories associated with them now.
-Constantly paranoid that he’s going to change back at any minute, feels peoples eyes on him constantly.
-On a happier note, he gets to see musicals! Live!
-He goes to every performance for every show within driving distance (and he’s not above driving several hours).
-Starts, eventually, working as a doctor again. It’ll take a long time though. Trust, especially self-trust, is easily shattered and not so easy to repair.
-Enjoys the little things the most. Humming without choking on his bile, walking around without stares, ordering food from someone other than the Duke! He’s over the moon for life.
-Practically lives in junk yards. I don’t know if stealing from them is illegal, but he could NOT care less.
-Prep talks younger mechanics in a supposedly threatening way, but he comes off as a gruff dad who’s not-so-secretly proud of you.
-Makes giant coffee makers with unnecessary features “Of course it needs to be able to bissect someone in half with a hot stream if coffee, what if my enemy wants a cup o’ joe?”
-Watches those “making fictional tech real” Youtube videos all the time and critiques people methods in the comments to the point that he’s been banned on several occasions.
-Very perturbed by the idea of a bed, since he just falls asleep wherever his body decides. Makes side eyes at it as he passes out on the floor again.
~Random Re8 Things~
-Alcina will kill anyone who drinks white wine in her presence. Rose is still untested, but nobody has the guts.
-Karl made a coffee machine specifically for everyone except Alcina and Miranda. Donna and Moreau are sworn to secrecy.
-Donna has the most adorable little kitten sneeze known to man.
-Karl’s sneeze can be heard two continents away.
-Moreau and Donna used to sneak down to a convenient ridge to watch village dances before everything got really bad.
-Moreau sleepwalks, whic results in him walking up in some weird places, such as:
-On top of Karl’s factory
-Alcina’s wine pool
-Burrowed in the snow in the middle of the village
-Upside down on a cliff face.
-He starts just locking himself in the house at night after the cliff face.
-Karl has a small number of books he’s read over and over again. One of them is an “Art of Theater” book. You think he was naturally this dramatic? (He was, he just polished it up.)
-Sal is an expert in cinematography solely by accident. He’s watched unspeakable amounts of movies.
-Love language headcanons!
Receiving: Quality Time
Giving: Quality Time
Receiving: Words of Affirmation
Giving: Words of Affirmation
Receiving: Quality Time
Hey guys I’m feeling like crud so just… please talk to me? Say nice things or tell stories or talk about Moreau ot Batb, idk. I’m just very tired today :s
He RE8 fandom, I’m a professional voice actor please cast me in all of your comic dubs, I would very much like to feel included, thank u.
I think my Angie is still my best but Miranda was also…I mean…I think I do a pretty good Miranda.
Ironically for the fact that I’m obsessed with him and run an RP blog for him and draw him every day…The Duke is the farthest out of my vocal range.
I AM DELIGHTED-
In honor of the latest chapter of “A Gift of a Better Kind”.
A Gift of a Better Kind- Part Ten
The lake, or reservoir or “big ol’ body of water undoubtedly containing at least one fish monster” was beautiful.
The mountains sat in its depths, as stately and imposing as usual, although slightly more rippley. Sunshine and algae collaborated to transform it into an emerald of marvelous hue, rippling from the wind, which was blowing particularly strong across the deep green surface.
Only a few shades darker than my dress.
So last night was real. Strange. It felt both like a dream and an avalanche in my mind. But there was no helping it, I was stuck with a very…. intriguing man.
Man. Since when did I call him that? He was hardly-
“G-good morning.” Came the tentative croak from behind me. Speak of the devil.
“Hello.” I smiled, pulling on my blindfold, “Did you end up getting any sleep last night?”
“Not really, b-but it doesn’t matter. Did you?” He asked anxiously.
I considered the question. The night nothing more than a grey blur of dragons and victories.
“I don’t really know.” I replied after a second.
He moaned, then: “I’m so sorry, I’m such a brute for keeping you up.”
That was the last straw.
“Please, stop. You’re not a brute, or a fool, or any other cruel lie you seem to believe about yourself. Do I make myself clear?” I burst, unable to allow the poor man to wallow any longer.
“Yes. O-ok. I won’t if you don’t like it.” Slowly, like the words might be met with a harsh bark of laughter or a slap.
I found myself smiling, slowly, then more broadly until my face split into a wide grin.
“Good. You deserve happiness.” I proclaimed stubbornly. No more self-deprecation for him!
A very long period of quiet. I did not turn, only looking out over the glorious, if grave, scenery. I was content, however much I shouldn’t be.
“May I…. please… hold your hand again?” Carefully spoken, enunciated with great care, a desperate grab at a semblance of humanity.
“Yes.” I said, automatically but without regret.
Cold, slimy and strange. But oddly… not unpleasant, this time. I squeezed gently, hearing a strangled gasp as a result.
“Did I hurt you?” I squawked, pulling my hand away in fear that I’d hurt this new friend of mine.
“NO- no, you didn’t. I…mmmh..not used to.. touch, anymore.”
Ah. I probably should have expected that.
I held my palm out, as his hand cautiously crept back in. I relaxed. It was a beautiful morning.
Touch. So simplistic, so complicated. How he had longed for it. Even as pain wracked his detestable carcass, he had dreamed of touch, gentle, kind, soft.
She was all these things and more. So delicate, but strong and stubborn in her kindness. She told him to be kind to himself.
An impossible task. But he would do it, for her. She filled the aching hole in his heart, claiming it as her own, though she would never know. Never.
He would not wish her to know the burden now her own. Such a weight could crush her.
“Why di-did you… wear that dress? Did you make it? Why’d you keep the cloak?”
Questions spilled from leather bound lips like slimy coins.
She merely smiled again, a little tiredly.
“You know, that might be the most words you’ve said to me yet?”
He considered a response, but her voice broke in, her words were like chocolate or honey, beautiful and as delicious to the ears as the aforementioned delicacies
“Well… I was rather scared the day I went into town for fabric. So, I looked through my keepsake box to… calm me down, I guess. I’ve kept the cloak as a memento, a reminder that even when life is a burden, someone will help you carry it. So, I found one of my Mother’s dress patterns, and voila! A lovely, inconspicuous dress for the Choosing!” She let out a half bitter laugh.
“I shouldn't… have taken you. It was so selfish- it gets so lon-.” He cut himself off. Nevermind that. She needed comfort, not additional worries.
Gently, for if he ever hurt her life would cease to be a gift, he ran a finger over her hand, soft skin flowing smoothly beneath his embrace.
So soft. Like flower petals or a bird’s wing.
A caged bird.
As if she could read his addled thoughts, Jolie began to sing quietly.
He felt himself relax. Her voice was quiet and husky and-
He knew that song. A low chuckle escaped him, deep and gurgling. She stopped.
Of course, why wouldn’t she when it sounded like a dying bullfrog was croaking in ber ear.
Then the beautiful nightingale laughed, herself.
“I figured you’d recognize that song.” She smiled, “Considering we just saw the movie.”
She remembered! It was only hours ago that they had seen the movie, but she had absorbed it instead of obsessing over her fear of him. Oh, he loved her!
The wind whipped around them then, as if it felt his shock at the sudden realization.
A stray piece of fabric smacked against his arm, shaking him from his reverie. It was blue-grey, rough and oddly familiar….
The wind was particularly strong that day.
Ooooh how about hc's for the four lords in the outside world?
Oooh yes! I’m goinh for a “cured au” approach here, so keep that in mind. :)
-Doorways vs. Lady Dimitrescu, ultimate showdown.
-Pretty chill about it, although she missed being able to people watch.
-Mostly cured (no claws, no desire for blood, shrunk to only 8ft tall though, she’s ticked. Being freakily tall is not helping her attempts at re-entering polite society.)
-Would never leave without her daughters, so we’ll say they moved somewhere very warm. Delighted as she is that her precious buglets are safe, she does miss the colder weather.
-Uses her wine expertise to establish a very successful vineyard, it yields just enough for a decent profit. (Her daughters always manage to destroy half of the crop one way or another.)
-All in all, not much change but grateful to feel safe for the first time in decades.
-Uh oh. Socializing. Without Angie. With a prominent facial scar.
-Hooooo boy. Would fair pretty badly at first. (Alcina drags her to therapy once a month.)
-Enjoys easier access to fabric, also, the internet immediately becomes her crutch. Learns alot of cool sewing techniques and makes unholy amounts of stuffed animals.
-Learns ventriloquism and freaks out her siblings by making their stuff talk. (“WHY THE FUCK DID MY HAMMER TELL ME TO TAKE A BATH-”).
-Learns how to cook (finally!) And overbakes to the point it’s weird if the other Lords don’t find baked goods on their doorstep every other morning.
-Studies the stars and has an Etsy that pays the bills very nicely.
-Adjusts eventually and learns to be happy again.
-Very torn. On one hand: Yay! Human again, people smiling instead of screaming!
-On the other: What do I do now?
-Relearns medicine, much quicker than other students due to latent memories resurfacing. Doesn’t trust himself to become a pediatrician just yet, so he becomes a professor at a local college.
-Takes a long time to grasp the fact that people are talking to him again, something which had been his dream for years on end.
-Has a coy pond and talks over all his major decisions with his fish.
-As hopeless a romantic as ever, but will take a very long time before he’s ready for a relationship. Years as a monster will do things to your head.
-Dumpster diving 24/7.
-Sleep? I think you mean coffee.
-Doesn’t know what to use his skills for if he’s not roleplaying Dr. Frankenstein. So he gets a job at a Autobody shop.
-Terrorizes Starbucks employees at strange hours.
-Still feels vulnerable without his sunglasses.
-Adjusts well, but Alcina stills forces him into therapy. And yes, they still hate each other, bit it’s slightly more playful.
-Makes trinkets and gives them to random people because he “Doesn’t want all this junk in his house.”
-Has a lot of junk in his house anyway.
Jolie’s face claim, Hermione Corfield :)
*Pokes you gently* I’m still doing requests
Have a cute Moreau, now demand me to write things.
“Oh, c'mon. Don’t you trust Ol’ Karl?”