Your gateway to endless inspiration
Not Sorry - Blog Posts
Dogma Headcanon
When he was a cadet on Kamino, he was not the same reg-loving guy. He broke the rules, snuck food, classic cadet behavior.
*Obviously, Tup was his batchmate. They were the closest in their group.
ANYways, in a training sim gone wrong due to their team going off protocol, his entire batch besides he and Tup got killed. Tup suffered a head wound, which while didn’t cause significant damage then, is what got the ball rolling in his chip decaying. Dogma, on the other hand, only had minor damage.
After this, Dogma followed the regs more closely, but it still wasn’t to the full extent as we saw during the show. He stopped sneaking food, and he broke the rules less, but he was still a fun guy.
One day, Dogma accidentally overheard the Kaminoans talking about the chips. He ran away back to his bunk room, but not before being noticed by the Kaminoans.
Dogma was escorted to the lab, where the Kaminoans demanded to know what he had heard. Dogma, knowing better than to lie to a Kaminoan, told them. After gaining this information, they *reconditioned Dogma, but only of the information that they didn’t want him to know. Once the process was over, they threatened harm to his person if he ever told anyone what had just happened.
After this incident, Dogma became more reserved, and only talked to Tup. This is also when he became a target of bullying, which also contributed to his love for regs as they were the only thing (besides Tup) that never hurt him.
A few days before being shipped out to their battalions, the Kaminoans pulled Dogma to the side. As a final effort to scare Dogma into behaving, they threatened to harm Tup and himself if he ever disobeyed commands. After hours of threats and a deep cut curved around his eye (which Dogma eventually got his memorable tattoo to cover) Dogma promised to never speak of what had just happened.
His first battalion was serving with the 501st, and not even a year into his deployment the Umbara arc happened.
*Reconditioning. In this little au, I imagine reconditioning to be somewhat different than what is normally seen in Star Wars fics. The Kaminoans can select what clones can and cannot remember, and to what extent. Reconditioning is very painful and traumatic, and only works when the clone is awake. The more specific an event removal is, the more pain it causes. In Dogma’s case, they knew that removing his entire encounter with overhearing the Kaminoans would be useless, and cause eventual suspicion, so they just took out the part where Dogma heard what they were discussing.
+Something to note: the more a clone is reconditioned, the less stable their chip becomes. That’s why more clones are decommissioned than reconditioned, as the Kaminoans didn’t want their plans to be revealed. In Dogma’s case, after he was reconditioned, his chip stability decreased. During Umbara, Krell noticed something weird with Dogma, and when he did some force shit and found a link to manipulate Dogma using his chip (not that Krell new that’s what it was) he used this newfound knowledge for his own gain. He now had a clone that would listen to his command, and he could destruct the clones’ trust in one another. Throughout this all, Dogma was unaware of his or Krell’s actions, and only came to when Rex was hesitating to shoot Krell. After he shot Krell, his memories came rolling in, about what he did and what Krell did to him and everything else he witnessed during the Umbara arc.
If anyone wants to write something about this go ahead! Just put the fic and where I can find it in the comments so I can read it :)
I’m sorry. This is a spite piece for my instagram. Follow me @peanut_and_butter_artistry there.
Short DPXDC Prompts #731
Wally runs and runs… until everything stops. Frantically looking around to see what’s going around, he clocks two things: a strange medallion around his neck and a blue clock chested man-kid-elder(?!) behold him. “Wallace West. You are sentenced to be Judged by the Court of the Infinite Realms for meddling with the time stream.”
yeah no i can't draw any other oc :/ sorry
TW: Death, Vomiting, Angst, Resurrection, “Bad” COTL ending with a Twist
Returning the Red Crown had always been the plan from the get go. Maveth had spent numerous days planning and mapping out instructions for their following. Writing personalized letters that were to be handed out, given they not return.
They’d talked with their God about it in length, thankful He’d not spurred the choice on them last minute. They were glad to have that respect.
Though they knew it would be hell, this was not the way they’d thought things would be. Maveth watched the Red Crown rise above them, hoisting the Lamb up with it, it’s eye glowing a vibrate crimson before blood dripped from its gaze.
It was the worst pain imaginable.
They've died hundreds to thousands of times, but the agonizing feeling of power draining from your body?
The pain of bones snapping and bending in unnatural proportions? The feeling of burning as your life blood drips from every orifice in your body, draining not only power you’ve held for 50+ years, but your very essence?
They feel hollow. They feel pain. They feel everything they haven't felt in near fifty decades: hunger, exhaustion, agony, anguish.
Their mind clears without the cursed energy of the Red Crown clouding their mind.
Memories and feelings come flooding back. It had been so long since Maveth could remember the faces of their family; and the thought of possibly seeing them again has them in tears.
And suddenly, the pain is gone, pushed into the back of their mind as tears mix with blood, and a smile creeps onto their shaky lips, still floating in the air, wanting nothing more than to reach out and hug the soft visage of a mother and sister they hadn’t seen in forever.
They can remember their names. The way they sound. The soft feel of their mother’s arms around them, the feel of her wool, the feel of their sister’s hands as they were trying to teach them how to sign as a child.
Briefly, they thought of Haantre, the father figure theyd grown to love, and Baz, socially inept and loving, and even the damned Goat that would pop through every once in awhile. Would they get to see them again? Would they be alright if they didn’t come back?
And then they were falling back down. Fear crept into their broken and aching bones before nothing. Nothing except darkness and the soft sounds of a bell ringing out against the dark abyss behind closed eyelids.
Time slowed to a near stop and Maveth could finally move, their back resting gently against the soft rolling sands of the -
Wherever they were. This wasn’t the Gateway anymore.
There is no God. There are no chains. Just the soft cloudy white mist and gentle hum of music. Their wool was clean, brushed, even, along with their ritual fleece - the simple red and white one they’d been given at the very start of their journey. It’s what they chose to wear that specific day, instead of their normal shawl and cloak.
A hand raised to their throat, the soft skin and fur no longer having that dull ache they’d grown accustomed to. Their mouth opened, and Maveth made a quiet, testing noise before a grin broke out on their lips.
“I can speak,” they said, quiet, but clear. The rasp they’d carried no longer present.
The Lamb hadn’t noticed the missing bell on their horn. Just the one that jingled against their collar as they jumped around excitedly, feeling light and weightless. They laughed and sang and cried out joyously, kicking at the white sands beneath their hooves, eyes glisteningly wet with happy tears.
They stopped abruptly, ears lifting as a sound came from further away. A singsong voice, one they knew well. It only took a moment in time before the sheep took off, a hand reaching up to unclasp the fleece they wore, the fabric flying away behind them, billowing in the wind, clothed in nothing but the wool they were born in, their collar and bell, and a piece of blue ratted fabric wrapped around a single horn.
Arms outstretched, Maveth ran right into the misty looking form of their mother, a large dark standing sheep with valleys of thick wool covering her body, sticking out from the holes in sleeves and the collar of a never ending white dress.
She looked as beautiful as the day Maveth had lost her.
Arms encircling one another, Maveth sobbing into her chest, the smaller Lamb feeling like a young child once again being comforted by their parent. They didn’t feel sad or angry or anything other than gentle affection. Longing. Love.
“Oh, Maven, look at how you’ve grown,” the sheep said quietly, lifting her child’s face between her fingers. She wiped away tears and smiled gently before turning her head to the side and making a pointed nod.
Maveth followed her gaze, brows knitting upwards, snot and tears running down their face, before reaching out and tugging the other sheep in close, their hand digging in against the soft downy wool of their older sister.
No more aching. No more pain.
This was all they had wanted for so long. To touch and be with their family. To love and be loved. To stay by His side. To-
His?
Oh, yes. His.
A look of knowing crossed their mother’s face, and she smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to Maveth’s forehead. “Cherin and I be waiting for you,” she said softly, fingers brushing back wayward bangs from their eyes. They looked to their sister, who was signing to them. ‘We love you.’
And then hands meshed through their figures, and Maveth cried out, reaching through their bodies to try and take them back. To hold them one last time.
“No - no! I’m not ready, please-“ they cried, eyes wide and fearful. “Please, mama, Cher, no-“
Suddenly, they were pulled back through the sands, unknown claws grasping under their arms as the Lamb screamed, thrashing against the immovable force.
They were lifted up higher until they hit the highest clouds and -
Maveth sat up in Death’s arms, the God now small, but still large compared to themselves. His gaze was intense but warm as he watched them wake once more, a hand moving away from their face.
Screaming, crying. They clutched at their fleece, sucking in trembling breaths, mouth open and drooling down their chin. They could remember everything. Every death. Every life. They couldn’t feel it now, but the echoes of lifetimes of aches were etched into their mind.
They remembered their mother and Cherin. It had been so long since they remembered their names or the sounds of their voice.
Panic rose in their chest and quickly, they hunched over, dry heaving into the sands, nothing but spit and saliva leaving their empty stomach.
And, oh Gods - the hunger. They’d never felt a hunger like this. Even before vesselhood, they’d lived on a farm.
Their mortal body was weak now. Hollow from power, but filled with memory. Maveth didn’t know which they’d preferred.
“Breathe,” a voice came from behind them, a hand resting to their back. It was familiar. Of course it was.
Maveth turned to look over their shoulder to their God, their body trembling. Eyes widen before softening once more, they hiccuped and turned to bow, their forehead in the sands before Him.
They wanted to throw hands with Him for bringing them back. Even though it was what they had asked for. Begged for, even.
Gently, a soft hand brushed through their wool, a pleased noise coming from the black cat. From Death. From Narinder, from their God.
Three red eyes pierced through them. The Red Crown settled easily upon his head, the pupil staring directly to the lamb.
“Welcome back.”
Some HxH stuff I did back in acnh, part 2
I can almost hear him drowning 🥲
It was hard tryna find a hairstyle that would work for Kurapika... So I made my own bangs design for him and covered it with the sunflower crown. I think it works pretty well, plus it's super cute! 🌻
Sasha cosplaying Kurapika!
And then Neferpitou holding Kite's severed head... 💀
And last but not least......
Bald Kurapika! (I'm not sorry)
Is this me, releasing art for a foxiyo grey Jedi fan fiction that I haven’t even started? Of course not! Why would you think that? I never procrastinate on work! NEVER!
Nah, it’s cool, in the year 2021 he’s an upper middle class white guy named Seightynn.
real subtle, guys
gonna keep my kids away from Banana fish and if they disobey me then make em watch it. as many mistakes as many rewatches.
As promised, some flirty betrayus I mentioned. I did this in one go, and I'm TIERED. OMG, but I wanted to draw him with his hair slicked back kinda. I kinda think the face looks werid, but hey, it's how I draw him, so who cares.
T-T
so many people returning shit........
so i can finish the book shelf (meaning another pattern page done! 5 down, 7 to go!), and i can /probably/ finish azi’s coat now, but they where out of stock on the third colour.
guess i can try again on my way to work on thursday. until then, poor azi’s wings are just gonna have to stay unfinished for a bit now
i have now run out of a third colour for the cross stitch….
think the holiday shopping is over enough to attempt to go to the store once today has rolled around to a more reasonable hour?
girl: ahh i've just been dealing with a lot y'know? it's like the world wants me dead haha
me (completely stonefaced): i will be your shield
her: what?
Well, I don't know why but listening to this song I couldn't resist drawing this I am ground and tired to die but here we are drawing things at midnight.
I can't take a picture so it's the screenshot of the photo and it's practically you dancing with a lot of trolls to the sound of that song and a lot of good wine of parras
MANDATORY LISTENING, PREPARE YOURSELVES
it's really sad that they simply don't put credits on or mention them author if you recognize your art we have to report it
" 💕👽 | Comics ZaDr [Traducción/Tumblr] de @ selvitiuXD en #Wattpad
life is horrible, people are horrible, they judge you, they criticize you .. they want you to live under their stupid standards and something below that is wrong, wrong .. it becomes a mistake that they are willing to erase at all costs why they believe that they are saving you, they believe that it is the best thing for you and that you are only an immature idiot who will give us what suits him ... it is stupid that they want him to live as an adult and rational human being. for me to go to hell and that art be my ship that takes me to the sea that can never enjoy called freedom
Eventually you reach this point where you realize, why the hell are you wasting your time performing for an audience that will never actually care about you or your well-being?
Seguir leyendo
