Something Very Funny To Me About The Progression Of Desert Duo Over The Life Series. We Really Went From

here we go girls

making a third life/wings of fire crossover AU (and writing a fic I’ll be posting here)

The main gist is that Grainshifter was a Nightwing born with animus magic under a full moon, giving him mind reading as well (for those who don’t know, animus magic has no limits. You can do ANYTHING) and the Nightwings, bastards that they are, take complete advantage of him and use him to make themselves essentially gods among the dragon species, taking the role of Watchers in this story. Generations and generations pass to the point where Nightwings are more legend than reality, as they prefer to stay hidden and feed on the strong emotions of the dragons below. After many years of being a Watcher, Grainshifter requests some time living as a normal dragon so he can experience what it’s like to live.. not in god status. His request is accepted, and he is sent down to attend Jade Mountain academy disguised as a Skywing dragonet. Here he meets all of the third life cast (excluding Martyn who comes in later) and after graduating, he returns to godhood.

Around this time, the Watchers have discovered that fear can be harvested using these cool death games! Wowee! Things are going swimmingly for awhile until the Watchers decide it would be a fantastic birthday gift idea for their special little boy to create a death game featuring all his old friends from his time at the academy :)

Grainshifter is not pleased jbJDJJXJXK

He instead uses what little influence he has (his magic was restricted at a young age before he had the autonomy to understand what was going on) to place himself in the death game in an act of somewhat childish defiance. Here he learns just how horrifying the things the Watchers are doing as he lives out the fear that they feed on. Also there’s this weird Seawing that Grainshifter doesn’t know who seems EXTRA miserable to be here, that’s odd.

This was just a little info dump on the main story, feel free to ask more lore questions or clarifications, I’m just getting started on this and I’m excited to continue!

Sad DGR 1 Survivor Headcanons (I'm tipsy sorry)

MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR DGR 1 and DGR DESPAIR GIRLS

None of them could ride elevators within the first year of them leaving without having a panic attack. This was learned the hard way when the six of them went up a large skyscraper to meet with the Heads of the Future Foundation and Byakuya immediately backed into a corner away from the others because he was feeling unfamiliar symptoms and had never had a panic attack before. Yasuhiro stood by him and asked him if he was also feeling anxiety. They didn't test the waters again until much later.

Because of their elevator PTSD, Byakuya has fantastic cardio health from how many stairs he climbs a day for work. Easily one of the stronger survivors because of this.

Aoi went from swimming to kickboxing. She never wanted to feel weak again.

Toko didn't write another book until well after the Tragedy was over. She wrote thesises and analysis reports on their findings of Hope and Despair when she stopped being an intern. She found it much more beneficial to work in a different department than Byakuya; she had space to process her trauma instead of deflecting and hiding. She discovered the former Ultimate Therapist in her department and started paying her for services.

After her therapy sessions, Syo didn't come out for a long time, even when she sneezed. She'd done her job: protecting her host. Syo never killed another person ever again.

Toko made sure that all of her books had happy endings.

When they were all freed and taken in by the Future Foundation Camp, they ended up bunking in the same room altogether. Makoto came into Yasuhiro's tent, unable to sleep from a horrendous nightmare, and the two made a nest of blankets and pillows. Kyoko was next, looking for Naegi, then Aoi, then Toko. Byakuya slipped in when all of the others fell asleep, curled up to face the door.

Kyoko opened her own detective agency before she retired, hiring the best and brightest and taking in several interns who reminded her of her friends. Makoto’s detail orientation, Byakuya's knowledge of resources, Toko's intelligence, Aoi's determination, and Hiro's positivity were all factors into hiring new recruits.

Makoto and Kyoko shared a bed long before they started dating. They found it the easiest way to cope with nightmares. When either one is on a work trip, the other stays at one of their friend's houses.

Makoto expected the most judgment from Byakuya when he called to ask him if he could sleep over, but he didn't say a word. He accepted him in, ordered in his favorite dinner, and watched Phantom of the Opera with him until he was asleep on the coziest spot on the long couch. Byakuya slept on the fainting couch without a single complaint.

Hiro is the most well-adjusted of the six of them due to his age, maturity, and tools that he picked up from past therapy appointments as a kid. He thinks of them like siblings, and they're all his favorites.

Despite this, Hiro does get nightmares.

Aoi didn't react to her brother dying until a week later when it hit her that all of her family was gone. She saw Komaru and Makoto talking together at his house and went into the guest room, curled up into the closet, and completely broke down. Byakuya found her and quietly sat with her until she was calm enough to talk it out. He of all people understands.

Makoto never went back to his childhood home. He was too afraid of what he'd find.

I hope you sobbed like I did, goodbye~

Literally obsessed with the fact that some people have been allies in all three seasons.

Like Ren and BigB. Both were in Dogwarts in 3rd Life. Both were in the Castle/Shadow alliance in Last Life. And they were soulmates in Double Life. THE POTENTIAL-

And Cleo and Scott!! Widows alliance in 3rd Life, the three Gs in Last Life, and they were soulmate-ish in Double Life.

I CANT- I JUST-

Imaging this, a blonde guy pledges his allegiance to a brunet who is called was king at least once and had grey skin and both ended died in tragedy.

Did I describe Grian and Scar or Martyn and Rendog?

Simple question hermitblr.

WHY IS XB A FISH

secret life session one in a nutshell

Clockers Family Dinner

holy shit

there is something so chilling about how many times someone screamed “I need the time back!” or “I need 30 minutes back!” while going for a kill. they’re all determined to get a kill now, but what about when their timer runs out? how many people are going to run out of time mid chase? how many people are going to yell “I need more time!” and just. die right in the middle of yelling it? when do they start turning on each other in order to survive?

when does “I need time!” become something screamed in pure desperation, pure agony as they all become relentless, ruthless in their killing in a need to survive?

Drowning

This had happened before, he thinks, in another life.

He was cold.

When he opened his eyes, it was to a dark sky—the only light the full moon hanging in the sky, but it was bright enough.

Bright enough to see that he was back on the godforsaken black heart altar, kneeling off center on the cursed thing, in a congealing pool of blood.

For some reason, the blood didn’t disappear like the body—Ren’s body—had.

He wished it had. It was a reminder of how badly he had fucked it up, how he hadn’t made it a clean kill—it probably hurt Ren, was probably why he hadn’t respawned yet. 

He couldn’t bear to stand, walk through Dogwarts knowing that Ren might not be there anymore, he might’ve just ruined it all, all for a chance that this book Ren had found had the right idea—that summoning a blood god for help was their only hope. 

The sun was just creeping over the horizon when he heard footsteps, but he didn’t look up—too afraid that the cold had gotten to him, that it was a hallucination—or perhaps it was someone coming to ask why he’d killed Ren, drag him off for the illegal move.

The hands that touched him were, if it was possible, even cooler than the air surrounding them, and it made him flinch, even as he allowed those hands to cup his face, guide him so that he was looking up, to meet the (red, blood red) eyes of Ren. 

No, not Ren. The Red King.

“Arise, laddy, ye have done well.”

Martyn stared up at him, blinked disbelievingly, but when the shape didn’t waver, nor did the hands on him, he nodded, and clumsily rose, feeling his knees ache in protest at finally moving after hours of nothing.

As he stood though, he noticed the scar—a jagged, ugly thing, that would tell all who saw it that he had failed—this was a scar that showed clearly how it had come about, and Martyn opened his mouth to apologize—

But was swiftly silenced. “Shush, lad. Ye need not apologize for doing as ye were bid. But I’m afraid that the test isn’t over quite yet.”

Martyn blinked out of it, realizing how close they were, and fumbled at his scabbard, as if he thought he needed to defend himself—but the hands cupping his cheeks hadn’t strayed, feeling warmer by the minute.

His lungs burned, though. Maybe it came from staving off a panic attack, but he was going to power through it, be strong for Ren, who’d need it.

He couldn’t even think about it anymore when a sharp pain sliced through it, and it was clear what had happened, when Ren’s grip on his face tightened, before releasing, taking a step back. 

“Now you shall make a terrible choice, Hand,” he announced, still in that weirdly formal tone. “Are ye with the Red King to the end, or do you take Dogwarts for yourself? Make your choice, lad. Make. Your. Choice.”

The slice on his cheek was dripping blood, mirroring the blood on Ren's claw, as his hand went to his sword’s hilt at the pain, but at Ren’s words, he paused.

His hands and mouth began working before he could, unbuckling his scabbard and dropping it on the ground as he spoke, words bubbling out breathlessly, seeming familiar in his mouth—

The buzzing in his ears hadn’t stopped either making it hard to hear himself even think, but it was okay, Ren was striding back up to him to cup his face again, his thumb rubbing at the cut on his cheek, his eyes nearly glowing as he kept eye contact, pulling back to lick at the blood on his thumb—

The burning feeling in his lungs wasn’t going away—why wasn’t it going away? His king was alive and whole in front of him, had accepted his fealty—he should be happy, why was it so hard to breathe? 

He felt arms wrap around his waist—that couldn’t be right, Ren’s hands were on his face, what?—and they began dragging him away. (Martyn? Martyn—guys—) He fought against them, trying to get back to his king, who was fading away, like he never had been—

They breached the water, and Martyn began coughing up water as Jimmy smacked his back, and it was hard to hear him over the ringing in his ears, but he got the gist that he was worried, oddly enough.

“Cranky I got your kill?” Martyn managed to wheeze out, still feeling the sting of the water in his lungs, which made Jimmy squawk. 

He could tell Jimmy was coming up on a rant, and he was happy for that—he could let it go in one ear out the other while he figured out how to make excuses, go find Scott.

He had to be sure he came back right.

alternatives for ai to design ocs

hero forge

picrew

the fucking sims 4

your local furry artist

bitmoji

shitty photoshoped collage

DeviantArt bases

zepeto

making edits of your favorite character

searching "dress up game" on the app store

learning how to draw