#Is this form red green or blue?? Goddamn it

[timmcosplay]

Palamedes Sextus, Heir to the Sixth House, Master Warden of the Library.

- - -

We took these photos in August but I completely forgot to share them to Tumblr!  Have you read Nona yet? I just finished it the other day and it’s sooo good. No spoilers for people who haven’t been able to read it yet, though!

Photos by @queenofthelostboys Featuring @valentinecos as Gideon and @partychickencosplay as Harrow!

#locked tomb #cosplay #gideon the 9th #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #palamedes sextus #gideon nav #harrowhark nonagesimus #tamsyn muir #tor publishing #oversight committee #Is this form red green or blue?? Goddamn it

[waynes-multiverse]

Video Games

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female!Reader

Summary: It's been a long time, and Ben direly misses his wife. Only a video chat truly reveals how much. Accompanying one shot to Rehab

Warnings: 18+/NSFW, language & insults, human!Ben, long distance relationship, smut (masturbation f & m, dirty talk), angst

Word Count: 2.0k

A/N: I know you guys begged me for a happy ending, and I promise it's coming (maybe in form of a three parter? 👀), but yeah, this is clearly not it. Somehow, my fingers always go rogue on the keyboard when it comes to these two, no matter my good intentions.

Transfixed green eyes are glued to the TV screen as Victoria Neuman gives yet another speech on another stage in another state on V-SPAN, yapping about some fucking policies Ben doesn’t give two shits about. He also could give less fucks about the president in general, his gaze focused on a young, beautiful woman standing by Neuman’s right side.

Yeah, he’s only enduring that shit show for her.

Y/N’s tight black pencil skirt makes his cock ache. It ends a few too many inches above the knees, too short for a Chief of Staff. Ben knows she’s only wearing it for him. It’s part of the sick game they’ve been playing.

That little piece of clothing could ride up any second and reveal her glistening pussy underneath to a whole audience, flashing conservatives and liberals alike. Ben has told her not to wear panties, and because she’s a good fucking girl, she has obliged his wishes. Y/N’s the best fucking wife, after all.

His eyes then flicker to the door down the hallway as he sits comfortably on the couch with a beer bottle in hand. It’s still shut tightly, the kid fast asleep. With the air clear, Ben’s hand slips into his sweatpants and palms his semi, jerking his fist up and down his hardening length.

He shuts his eyes for a heartbeat, imagining what her tight and soaked cunt feels like wrapped around him. Fuck, he misses her so goddamn much. He hates being alone, even though he’s not. He’s still got the kid, so it all trickles down to him fucking hating being without her.

There’s no cure for Y/N, and there’s no replacement for her, either.

Ben sets the beer down on the coffee table and frees his dick fully, shuffling the gray sweats down to his ankles. When Neuman finishes the last leg of her speech, he watches as Y/N eagerly begins to chew on her bottom lip, almost gnawing the goddamn thing bloody. She’s as fucking giddy as he is.

As soon as the president and her entourage leave the stage, Ben grabs his phone and opens her contact. His thumb brushes the little blue button with the camera symbol, his ears waiting to hear her sweet and sultry voice again as it dials.

Her bright smile is the first thing he sees. His heart beats so fast the friction causes a fire and melts the broken thing into a puddle. He can feel the heat in his cheeks as they involuntarily rise with a smile he can’t muzzle.

“Fuck, I’m so hard, baby girl,” he says and squeezes the throbbing cock in his fist.

Y/N laughs, shaking her head. “Hello, husband. I’m good, thank you for asking. How are you?”

“Like I said, fucking hard,” he reiterates, his deep voice raspy, impatient, and hungry. He rolls his green eyes. “C’mon, you really wanna chitchat about small talk? I know you’re fucking dripping for my cock under that tight little skirt.”

Y/N’s eyes widen scoldingly, but the flush of red in her cheeks makes him chuckle. “Ben! I’m still in the elevator. At least let me get to my hotel room first.”

“Perfect.” Ben smirks broadly, a mischievous glint in his forest green orbs. “Just push the red ‘Stop’ button and lemme rail that cunt there.”

“Charming as always,” another voice chimes.

“I’m not alone, you idiot,” Y/N informs him, giggling, and swings the camera till Victoria’s bitchy grin of amusement comes into view.

Ben rolls his eyes in open and shameless annoyance, scoffing. “Ugh, of course, that bull dyke’s with you…”

Victoria only smirks at his insult with crossed arms. “Unlike you, that never gets old, coot. How are those adult diapers suiting you?”

“You fucking hippie cuntzilla,” Ben grits angrily, his brow scrunching so much he’s close to a rage headache. “You couldn’t fucking handle all of me.”

“Trust me, I don’t want to,” Victoria huffs mockingly. “You know what they say – once the body goes, the mind follows, you dried-up dinosaur.”

“You fucking–”

“Okay, alright! Stop it you two. Enough with the insults,” Y/N steps in and pans the camera away from Neuman’s winning smirk and back to her. She sighs. “That’s my floor. We’re almost there.”

Ben still boils with fury, especially when he hears the two women exchange a few bullet points about a staff meeting before bidding their goodbyes. But by the time Y/N unlocks the door to her room, he’s simmered down enough and stroked his cock back to its full glory.

Y/N sets up her phone on her dresser, the lens focused on her as she takes a step back. A naughty smile curves her lips as she licks them and plays with the buttons on her blouse.

“Ready?” she asks and waits for him to switch the camera around.

Ben chuckles and aims the lens on his dick, standing proud and tall. “Look for yourself, baby girl.”

Y/N bites her lip at the sight of his cock – so fucking thick, long, and swollen. “Fuck, I’d kill to have you inside of me right now,” she coos and pops open the buttons of her blouse, one by one. Soon, the white silk material slips off her shoulders and leaves her standing in an all too-innocent white bra, her tits perfectly framed by delicate lace. Her hands then wander behind her back and unhook it, freeing two full breasts. She massages and gropes them, rolling her pert nipples between her fingers as she moans.

“Shit, you know that fucking turns me on when you talk like that,” Ben grunts, pumping his cock harder as it swells in his hand. “Show me that tight pussy of yours. Need to see it before I fucking come. Bet it’s real wet, huh?”

“Fucking drenched,” Y/N croons and opens the back zipper of her skirt. “Can feel it fucking run down my thighs. Thought all day about you. I didn’t wear any panties like I promised you.”

“Such a fucking good girl,” Ben praises her with a smirk on his lips. “Where’s that fucking feminism of yours now, huh?” he teases, chuckling. “Fuck, I wanna feel that slick on my fingers and lick it clean off.”

“This one, asshole?” Y/N giggles as her hand delves into her skirt and runs through her soaked folds. She pulls out her glistening fingers and sucks them into her mouth, tasting her own sweet arousal.

“Fucking shit…” Ben hisses, his cock twitching needily in his hand. All he wants is to eat her out and sink into her. “Pull that fucking thing off right now and get on the bed. Ass first,” he orders.

Y/N does as he says, the skirt falling down her smooth legs and revealing her bare pussy to him. She spins around and climbs on the mattress on all fours, wiggling her ass high in the air. She smirks over her shoulder at the camera when she hears his wanton growl before she lays down on her back and spreads her legs wide, her pink and wet cunt in full view.

“Fuck, look at you, baby. So fucking perfect. I’d love to fuck you stupid till you’re a drooling mess, you little cockslut,” Ben says and can feel himself riding closer to the edge. “Touch yourself for me. Flick that little clit till you tremble and scream for me to fill you.”

Y/N’s hand dives between her thighs, two fingers rubbing circles on her sensitive flesh. She mewls and whimpers with every touch. “Fuck, can I put a finger inside me?”

“Shit, yeah,” Ben groans enthusiastically. “Try three. Stuff ‘em in there. Real deep. Come for me, baby. Wanna see that pretty face you make.”

“Fuck, Ben! I need you… I want you… So bad… Want your cock to fuck me… Please… I miss you…” Y/N moans and cries as she works herself into a frenzy. The familiar tug in her belly threatens to implode with each stroke.

Ben’s already a goner when those last words reach him, fisting his cock so hard he’s glad he doesn’t have superpowers anymore. He might’ve broken it for good otherwise. Precum leaks from his red and swollen tip, slicking his aching dick with each jerk of his hand. He’d give anything to feel her mouth and ample lips around his length, but the memory of it suffices to make him explode for now.

Swiftly, he grabs a few tissues from the box next to him and blows his load inside of them while Y/N’s blissful screams fill his ears as her climax tears through her. A few more slow and lazy strokes milk the rest of his dick before his shoulders deflate, and Ben relaxes back into the comfort of the soft couch cushions.

Pantingly, they lie in silence for a minute and let their speeding hearts find calm again. Y/N then props up from the bed and saunters to the dresser to grab her phone before she plops back down on the mattress. She frames the camera on her face and smiles at him, her cheeks flushed with an afterglow.

Ben smiles, too, although there’s a twinge in his stomach and a pinch in his heart. He’s grown to love the perks of technology and the twenty-first century. If he couldn’t see her on that little screen in his hand every night, he would’ve gone mad a while ago.

But everything else still sucks. The fact he can’t touch her, hold her, and love her the way he wants to fucking sucks.

“You okay there, stud?” Y/N checks, even though the truth is written clear as day on his freckle-dusted face. She feels it, too – that sickening, torturous, and undeniable pull towards him. All she wants is to rest her head on his broad chest and beating heart with his strong arms wrapped around her, holding her so tight she can barely fill her lungs with air.

Ben’s tongue swipes over his chapped lips for a moment. He’s not someone who shares his emotions easily, and it’s only gotten harder for him without her near. But it’s too fucking much, and there’s no end in sight.

“No,” he admits with a tormented swallow. “It’s not fucking okay. I fucking miss you. You’re my goddamn wife. You’re supposed to be here, Y/N.”

“I know.” Y/N exhales a sympathetic sigh and tries her best to be there for him, even though she’s exhausted after an 80-hour work week. “I miss you, too. And the kid. So much. It’s not always gonna be this way. You know I can’t come home. I don’t wanna hurt anyone, least of all you.”

“I don’t fucking care anymore. It’s been six months. We’ll figure it out. Just come home, my love,” he all but begs in the four walls of his quiet house. For Y/N, he’d even go down on his knees. He just wants her here. He doesn’t care what it costs him, virility included.

“Ben…” Y/N bites her lip, her eyes pleading. “I’m making a difference here. I’m actually doing something good.”

“Fuck that! Fuck all of that shit, Y/N!” Ben yells and strains himself to lower his voice, not wanting to wake the boy. “I fucking love you. I’m sick and tired of those games. How many fucking times do I have to tell you that I miss you, huh? I don’t wanna do this anymore. I don’t wanna call you and hope you have time to pick up. I don’t wanna text you and wait hours for a fucking answer. I don’t wanna fuck you through a dumbass screen. I miss you. I miss my wife. I miss actual goddamn sex, for fuck’s sake!”

Y/N holds back the brimming tears in her eyes, her longing heart agreeing with his words. “I know. I miss all of that, too. Maybe it’s time. Maybe we should finally talk about it.”

Ben’s brow furrows. He doesn’t like the tone in her voice and the look on her face that’s full of heartbreak. “Talk about what?”

“Divorce.”

I know, I know... "Wayne, why are you being so cruel, mean, and evil to us?" But I promise you those two will figure their shit out eventually. They've been through too much to let go now 💚

But man, do I love writing some Neuman/Ben banter. I wish they had actual screen time on the show. I feel like it would've been fucking hilarious 😂

This is not the end. Those two idiots will be back 😘

TAGS:

Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444 @syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity

Rehab Series: @nancymcl @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @sparkydonugh

#soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #human!soldier boy #soldier boy reader insert #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy smut #soldier boy fanfic #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys season 3 #the boys reader insert #the boys x reader #the boys smut #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles smut

[look-how-they-massacred-them]

Urabrask

Submission reason:

after years of buildup for him to be leading a revolution, his contribution to the story's climax was... throwing someone at a tree, and then dying slowly and painfully

Okay so for a bit of back lore to set the stage. A long time ago in the mtg canon a doctor by the name of Yawgmoth schemed and backstabbed his way into a new world in order to develop a cure for a disease that had been plaguing the people of his continent. There stuff happens and he ends up developing a process to replace flesh with metal by way of a pseudomagical oil, and thus creating what would come to be known as Phyrexians. More stuff happens and he is defeated thousands of years later. However in this process some of the oil, phyrexian oil, he developed wound up on other worlds. One such world was Mirrodin. Eventually the oil takes roots and as it spread five Phyrexians rose above the rest, one in each of magics five colors: Elesh Norn, white, wants to unify everything under her rule (literally and metaphorically) to achieve perfection; Jin Gitaxias, blue, thinks he can science himself and everything into perfection; Sheoldred, black, and uh I honestly don’t remember lmao?; Vorinclex, green, he thought you could darwin yourself into perfection… and then theres our boy Urabrask, for the color red, for passion, ingenuity, the arts. Urabrask starts his story by immediately fucking off from the other four because he just wants to build shit and be left alone and not be involved in their scheming. So much, in fact, that when the other preators start spreading the oil further and converting the locals he orders all the phyrexians in his faction to allow refugees into their territory and to not mess with them. However this tolerance was built out of wanting to focus on and throw himself entirely to his Great Work, not some kind of moral code or kindness. He even ends up sealing his territory entirely later on, even to refugees. Later down the story they decide to change this. Presumably due to Elesh Norn’s rise as the main power in Mirrodin, now New Phyrexia, and her unwillingness to compromise, Urabrask is now reimagined as a revolutionary (which you know good on him right? Miles better than before and he was already the best among the five). Elesh Norn is at this point planning to extend her reach beyond New Phyrexia and to simultaneously invade every other world and infect/conquer them. urabrask, then, decides to revolt against Elesh Norn, but like… working and not working along side any one else? Like he’s supposedly doing his own thing along with Sheoldred but hes also constantly helping the main force? Anyways this ends up with him at best dismembered by Elesh Norn and now lost along with the rest of New Phyrexia in a pocket dimension. So what’s particularly weird is that he is a Phyrexian through and through. He wasn’t some goodguy tm. Yes he allowed refugees to seek shelter from the rest, but he was still trying to find a form of perfection through the oil. It makes some sense he would fight against Elesh Norn because shes imperialistic and she would push up against his territory. But the alliance of Everyone Else was out to completely destroy New Phyrexia, Phyrexians, and the phyrexian oil to a) defend themselves and b) because it literally just takes one drop. So Urabrask himself was on the chopping block… obviously selflessly fighting against an evil even when knowing you will probably end up dead as well is commendable, depending on circumstances, that’s just not how he was depicted on his original appearance at all. In his first appearances he’s just a dude trying to do his thing, being nice only by virtue of utter indifference, and years later when we see him again he’s now a gung-ho revolutionary setting up all the needed pieces for a fight that will end in his own death either by the hand of those he’s fighting against or those he is fighting with. I love him in both forms, but goddamn at least do more build up to it. As far as I’ve been able to find he has no plan for himself or his faction post defeating Elesh Norn and just got turned into a plot device to give the alliance a leg up and be able to win an otherwise impossible and mediocrity-ly written war.

Portrayed as a rebel against his fascist homeworld, ignored and randomly executed when it was time to actually fight them

They were killed off screen and didnt really get a satisfying ending. There were basicaly side lined in a story that they realistically should have been really important to

They had this whole buildup to him having an arc where he'd lead a Phyrexian revolution against Elesh Norn but instead they had every main character just brush it off as ""infighting"" since they think phyrexians are ontologically evil, and then had him publically drawn and quartered with literally nobody giving even a second thought about him, including Elspeth who was actively helping him before and Koth who at one point called him a friend. None of the official writing painted any of this as a bad thing.

Butchered their story and played them out as an evil when he wanted to free his people from tyranny and create.

FIRST OF ALL! His cards sucked for a very long time and only very recently had there been a non shitty urabrask. Secondly he’s by fAR THE MOST INTERESTING PHYRXIAN AND he just. NEVER GETS MENTIONED????

When Urabrask was originally introduced in the Scars of Mirrodin Block, he and his faction offered something that the other phyrexian factions didn't: empathy of for other beings, and thus, the possibility of nuance for the phyrexians. True, this empathy didn't extend into full-blown compassion, and true, he did not actively oppose the other praetors in killing and converting the native mirrans, but he did command his faction to leave any mirran refugees that entered his domain alone, and at the end of the block it was all but stated that Urabrask was planning to stage a rebellion against Elesh Norn. Come New Capenna and Urabrask has sided with the mirrans to overthrow Elesh Norn and fight against his fellow preators, even using the planar bridge to travel to New Capenna to research halo as a potential weapon even though traveling there destroyed his organic components and just being near halo caused him physical pain. Then in All Will Be One despite being explicitly stated to be fighting with the mirran rebels, Urabrask does not get a POV story, and barely gets a mention in the main story. Not only that, but in one of the side stories Slobad, one of Urabrask minions, is shown coercing mirran survivors into ""willing"" become compleated, and all of a sudden, the extra lore written about him talked about how he may prefer willing coverts to phyrexia, he was still more than willing to kill or forcefully compleate people to further his goals. Finally, midway through March of the Machines, Urabrask is executed by Elesh Norn without any meaningful resolution to his story.

-Absolutely downplayed his rebellion against phyrexia to a footnote in the story of other characters despite being a symbol for opposing everything the phyrexian invasion stood for while also *being* phyrexian. -Writers contradicted earlier in-canon explicit statements about his opinions on freedom and choice with later interviews and supplementary material out-of-canon seemingly to justify continuing to downplay him in-canon. -Finally had him captured off-screen just to be dismembered on-screen and then forgotten by the plot.

Set up to be a pivotal character in the resistance against Phyrexia. The set up to show there are sympathetic phyrexians against Elesh Norns cult-like society was being laid alongside Urabrask, but all of this is completely squandered. He's consistently devalued, his input is minimized, and depicted the layout that he's a powerful leader woth many forces behind him he is immediately undermined by only a few rogue underlings and immediately captured, tortured and implied killed offscreen. His death is not even mourned or regarded as anything. His actions should have helped but despite his resistance against phyrexia he's deemed as just another dead monster. Not a single ally he did have gives a shit that he died trying to help.

Urabrask is the most important good member of his species. It was necessary for him to have cooperative story moments with those who bunch him in with the rest of the aliens the ""heroes"" were going to genocide. Urabrask was supposed to be the symbol of co-existence and free will. Instead, he had almost no story whatsoever, with a completely unrelated scene showing him captured and dissected. He was discarded under the rug, when it should have been *him* to lead the resistance to victory against their oppressors.

Propaganda:

I will bite you if my baby doesn’t get in the poll also his wife is very petty look up Ayala furnace queen

Metal Dad deserved better

Vorinclex also deserved better

Praetors of new phyrexia (leader figures of the alien species) were mistreated and mischaracterized in the grand Phyrexia storyarch in general. It started great, but then they were killed off unceremoniously by writers that did not have the time or care to respect them.

Who else here got butchered into becoming selfless good guys? Vote for the artist turned revolutionary, a win for him is a win for tumblr.

him face :3

Urabrask is super cool. He is the first person in a race of evil alien people bent on infecting / killing / taking over people to go “hmmm maybe we should like ask them first” he is a king and was taken from us too soon

This submission also somewhat represents Phyrexians as a whole who were built up to make sure the audience has every reason to see them as people only to have the rug pulled out from under them and suddenly all phyrexians are treated as evil no matter what

#look how they massacred them poll #look how they massacred my boy #urabrask #magic the gathering #mtg urabrask #propaganda post

[agoodomenssideblogiguess]

I keep seeing posts about how snakes have bad vision and Crowley probably can't see the stars and that made me so sad. So instead of answering emails at work this morning, I looked up videos about snakes to figure out how they see stuff and I learned so much and the implications of these facts are ABSOLUTELY DELIGHTFUL:

(I'm putting it all under the cut because the post got long lol)

1. Snakes with vertical slits in their eyes are nocturnal.

2. Research suggests that snakes have the necessary receptors in their eyes to see mostly blues and greens (and any colors that are made up of those two) in the daytime and monochromatic (gray-scale essentially) in the night time. For reference, human color receptors in the daytime are red, green, and blue. For night it's monochromatic as well.

3. Some snakes have 'heat pits' along their pretty (pretty is subjective not a fact sorry) mouths that help them sense infrared light. The visual and infrared cues are overlaid in the optic parts of the brain. (Truly this is the coolest thing I've learned about snakes and I highly recommend reading the Wikipedia page about it, it is SO COOL). The heat pits work in such a way that if they don't cool down the receptors back to a 'thermal neutral' state (usually by providing extra oxygen to them) the snake will see afterimages even if whatever was giving off the infrared is removed.

4. Snakes smell with their tongues by picking up odor particles and then putting their tongue into little holes along the roof of their mouth where they have this thing called the "Jacobson's organ" that has receptors that can register the smells. To give you a sense of how sophisticated this sense of smell is, apparently snakes can tell which eggs have developing embryos in them in order to avoid them because it's easier to eat undeveloped eggs. (ISNT THAT INCREDIBLE?!?!)

IMPLICATIONS OF THESE FACTS:

1. Crowley can see at night because he's got them nocturnal snake eyes.

2. Crowley PROBABLY THOUGHT HIS HAIR TURNED BLACK WHEN HE FELL AND HE SAW HIS WINGS SORTA MATCHED. And unless someone has told him his hair is still red MAYBE HE STILL DOESNT KNOW

3. (Part 1) Nothing pisses me off more than that they didn't give Crowley's snake design heat pits along the lips because that would be so freaking cool to see in fanart of Crowley in like 'true form' or whatever cuz it would make him seem more "otherworldly" or "monstrous" but whatever. I'll forgive the designers because the heat pits he does have imply that he's a pit viper and also they're not visible on his human form (unless they're inside his nostrils?). Which means they're probably covered and don't cool back to 'thermal-neutral' properly so Crowley probably sees after images all the goddamn time (I'm gonna fucking write the saddest angstiest post season 2 fanfic for good omens called Afterimage BASED ON THIS FACT ALONE).

3. (part 2) because of how the regular vision and infrared vision are overlaid, anything that's warm/hot in temperature, like let's say an angel, probably looks like it's glowing. HELLO FANFIC AUTHORS WHERE ARE YOU?!? BLUSHING/FLUSHED AZIRAPHALE GLOWS BRIGHTER THAN NORMAL TO CROWLEY HELLO?!?!

4. When Aziraphale and Crowley kiss with tongue IF we give Crowley a Jacobson's organ, he would be OVERWHELMED WITH AZIRAPHALE. Imagine in every regular human sense, plus snake senses all of it is jUST AZIRAPHALE. Holy CRAP GUYS PLEASE (also like monsterfuckers/true form enthusiasts, the Jacobson's organ is just another fun snake feature you can include for funsies in your fanworks).

#good omens #good omens 2 #go2 #good omens 2 spoilers #go2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #if this is the post that categorizes me as a momsterfucker then so be it #im with good company

[th0rns-n-r0ses]

Can I ask for Axl Rose x fem reader fic, where Axl ties up the reader and fucks her so hard?🩷

pretty tied up ~

axl rose ~ 794 words ~ female reader ~ smut ~

~~~~~

The only thing coursing through your blood is the lust for the man that’s pinning you down on the bed. Axl Rose. Fiery red hair curtains his face and his sharp blue eyes check your body out as you squirm beneath him. He grabs hold of the ropes, tying them to the bedframe and around your wrists, your body open for him to touch and please himself with.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” Axl murmurs into your ear, his tone deep and lustful as his breath warms the side of your face and neck. You moan for him, his teasing making you absolutely crazy with lust for him. His lips course down the side of your jaw and neck, kissing and sucking on your soft skin at any given opportunity. Axl’s lips nibble at your skin, making you squirm your body and sway your hips. The heat flowing between both you and Axl makes the both of you sweat, the lust almost getting to be too much to handle. Another moan escapes your lips, your body moving around for him. Axl’s completely naked other than those goddamn boxers he seems so hesitant to take off.

“Axl..” You groan into his ear, making his body shudder with excitement and desire. “Please, Axl, I need to..” The words are caught in your throat, the only thing able to escape is a slew of moans for him, wanting him right here and right now.

“So needy for me.” Axl groans as he bites the side of your neck, causing your body to thrash and squirm as you moan loudly for him. He moves away and sits on his knees, sliding off those boxers he’s restrained himself with for so long. As he kicks them aside, you feel your breath catch as you gasp, the sight of his hard cock making your back arch slightly.

Axl leans over you, your faces mere inches apart as the tip of his dick teases your sensitive lips. You gasp and pant, breathing fast as your hot breath coats his face. When you pull on the chains out of urge and temptation, he pushes himself in slightly. You sigh and moan, your wet cunt taking him in.

“So tight..” Axl grunts as he pushes himself in, as deep as he can go. You utter a lust-filled and passionate moan as you feel him in. All of your visual cues are just green flags for Axl, giving him the all-clear. He snaps his hips, thrusting himself into you deep. Not stopping now, he keeps moving himself quickly as you writhe and squirm beneath him, as you moan for him desperately.

The lust and pleasure overtaking you prevents you from forming any proper sentences as you feel your mind go fuzzy, the only comprehensible thought being Axl and his dick. Cockdrunk mumbles and groans leave your mouth as he goes on fucking you hard and fast. Your stomach knots and you feel your head go light. 

“Such a good girl..” Axl praises into your ear as your jaw drops open, your eyes rolling back. Your breathing quickens as he continues to move his body, his hands tightly grabbing your arm and hip to keep you in place. You moan again, much more loudly this time, as you cum on his dick. Your brain goes fuzzy, no thoughts crossing you. Axl fucks you through your orgasm, looking down at you with lust-filled eyes as the power in his thrusts falter slightly. His head bows, breathing heavily as he tries to hold on for longer. After a loud exhale, Axl’s thrusts regain momentum and he starts to slam into you again. His hot breath lands on the side of your face as he breathes, your mouth right at his ear as you moan and whimper. 

Axl moves his head, his mouth making contact with your face at the underside of your ear at the jaw. He sucks on the skin, his tongue flicking over it every now and again. When his mouth leaves your skin, a dark red hickey that somewhat stings your skin remains. His mouth goes to town, biting and sucking at the skin on your neck. You pant and whine, your body twitching and thrashing as you pull on the ropes, your hands desperately grabbing the air. Axl groans loudly, his composure fading. His thrusts become sloppy and less organized again as he comes close to his climax, sweat dripping down his muscular body.

“God, you’re so-” Axl grunts, pulling out of you as his cum spurts onto the side of your thigh. He pants, still looming over you. He leans down, his mouth at your ear. Heavy and hot breaths leave his mouth as he mumbles in your ear.

“So fucking perfect.”

~~~~~

#guns n roses #hard rock #80s music #80s rock #glam rock #axl rose #axl gnr #guns n roses smut #axl rose smut #classic rock #80s

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: They Both Die At The End

Summary: For one, love is a weakness. For the other, it is a strength. For both, it will be their end.

after everything they'd gone through, it would not be a bullet, nor a sacrifice threatening their lives. Nothing but a flower, and their own hidden feelings.

Love was weakness.

Damian had been taught that his whole life. Attachments could not be afforded, and if they were made, they could be ripped away from you in an instant. They made you vulnerable, easy to back-stab and betray and bait.

As he stared at the flower petals in his hand, he was reminded of what he’d forgotten here in Gotham, with the people he’d come to call family. Everyone was connected, and the bonds formed, however strong, simply invited more people. More loose ends, more pressure on the fragile masks they all put on daily.

He knew who they were for. Who else could they be? The blue of the petals, tarnished now by the red specks of blood, matched the color of the Kansas sky, the blue of those eyes that held both the contrasting  innocence of a child and the weight of everyone's expectations all at once. 

The ones that made him remember what he was fighting for. It was absurd to think that after everything he’d suffered through, his death would not be brought by a sword, or a bullet. Not an explosion or some untimely sacrifice. Just a flower, and his own goddamn feelings.

Love was weakness. And it would kill him.

Love was strength.

It was power, and it could bond and save worlds. Jon had grown up in a home filled with love, his grandparents and parents and friends. But he also knew that just as it could be used to heal, it could be used to hurt. It could rip open your whole self, break you bit by bit, make you a shell of yourself. You would not return.

He twirled the dark green petals in his hands, marveling at the odd color. It was a deep green, darker than kryptonite and just the right shade of his partner’s mask. It was easy to know exactly who it was for, after all, it was himself who had wormed his way past the barriers and into the son of Bat’s heart.

It had been years of hating, then friendship and hero worship, and then a tiny little crush that grew. It was no surprise that this turned into love, unrequited at that. He would take it to the grave, savor every last moment they could get together. He couldn’t risk losing all he’d spent years gaining.

Love was strength. And despite the consequences, he would love with everything given until it filled his lungs and became his demise.

It was hidden easily on Damian’s part, in the earliest stages. Only Tim was able to figure it out, after finding bloodied petals in the Cave. He assumed Alfred knew, as the petals in the wastebasket disappeared when the cleaning passed.

He was starting to throw up half-bloomed blossoms now, and that's where he lost his secrecy. It was a meeting after patrol, after several months of people asking if he was okay. They were debriefing and Damian felt the demand of the petals crawling up his throat. Thinking of nothing else but escaping, he clamped a hand over his mouth and ran to the nearest secluded place, the showers. 

His family followed suit, Tim lagging behind. Damian looked up at all of them, blood dribbling from his mouth and thrown-up petals surrounding him.

“I will not get the surgery.” His voice was hoarse, the words spoken into the silence. 

Dick bent slowly to his knees, tears brimming in his eyes as he pulled Damian to his chest. “Okay.”

The rest of them surrounded him, holding him as though it would be the last time. And it wouldn’t be, not yet. Later, there would be desperate searches for a cure, Tim shaking his head and telling them he’d already tried. There would be yelling and threats but nothing at all would come of it. Damian would not get the surgery, and would not reveal who the petals were for.

Privately, a few days later, Kon would fly into Tim’s Gotham apartment, tearful with the news of his little brother falling to the petals.

The news would not be shared.

Jon was not as good at hiding it as Damian was, with reporter parents and a relationship with people who possessed x-ray vision. He could burn or freeze the evidence away, as he so often did, or used a bit of super-speed to rush the petals turning blossoms somewhere else.

What he could not hide was his own x-ray, the flower’s roots visibly digging into his lungs. Invulnerability could not work if the thing killing you was working from the outside in. A battle down with his father, brother, and cousin lead to him being hit with a laser, which would normally not bring him down easily, but he’d started coughing.

Kon swooped for him, setting him on the ground. Jon stayed, and once they regrouped, Kara scanned him, gasping and tugging Clark away from the cameras. 

He watched helplessly as his father’s eyes scanned him, letting his family circle around him. His mother would be told later, and she would sob, her youngest, her baby. His life had been filled with love, and his family poured everything they had the time he had left.

He was born in a house full of love, and that love would follow him, all the way up until his heart stopped beating.

If only one had it, the other in the end, would not have made it either. It was proven once both had started spewing full flowers, leaves scraping their throats. 

It was already accepted that both would not live for much longer, and Jon and Damian had long since resigned to their fate.

Both knew the other was dying, although when they were together the subject didn’t come up. Not until they couldn’t put it off any longer, one night on patrol.

A battle had broken out. Something that should have been easy, but due to their weakened states they were quickly overtaken, the proximity of the other and the way they were pushing themselves beyond their limits causing coughing fits and sickness.

They fought them off to the best of their ability, waiting until they had been picked up by the police to collapse on a nearby rooftop, both hacking and gagging on the flowers spewing from their lungs.

Damian was slumped over rolling on his side. “We’re so fucked, aren’t we?”

Jon’s eyes were shiny as he rolled a deep green flower between his fingers. “Yeah.”

They were silent, feeling the worst of the blooms begin to creep up their throats, the air being consumed by the parasitic flowers feeding on their longing.

“We’re gonna stay together, right?” Jon pulled himself to lean on Damian, offering his hand. The other boy grabbed it, holding on tightly. He clicked the s.o.s button on his utility belt and leaned his head back on Jon's shoulder.

“Always, beloved.” he whispered. “It was you. It’s always been you.”

Tears dripped from Jon's face into Damian's hair, holding tighter. A little laugh escaped him, sounding like a painful wheeze. “And you were mine. We were so stupid.”

“I’m scared, Dami. I should have told you, we’re too young for this, this shouldn’t be happening-” Jon choked, Damian's hand rubbing his back as more flowers came up.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, I'm here with you. I’m scared too, but less because you are here with me.” 

They wouldn’t last for much longer, the beautiful flowers filling their body and taking their breath away. The families they would leave behind would be angry and heartbroken and desperate for a little more time. But they would be content, finally together no matter where they were. In every universe, they would always find some way to each other, even in death.

“We’ll be okay, J.”

“I trust you, D.”

#damian wayne #jondami #jon kent #damijon #happy valentines day #hanahaki disease #hanahaki #flowers #robin damian wayne #robin damian #jon kent superboy #batfamily #kent family #superfamily #dc #dc fanfic #possible charecter death

[gust-jar-simulator]

Honestly if I really think about Four as a system, the idea of basing the alters on the textbook clinically approved labels bores me. For example, I don’t want to write Red as a textbook little, or Blue as a persecutor. It’s tiresome. Systems are vibrant and unusual and we get weird with it depending on our life circumstances- our “little” is an age shifter who handles our nightmares and impulsive thoughts by being Really Goddamn Queer, for example.

If anything, I think I’d want to base them on the requirements of their respective elemental dungeons in Minish Cap, maybe with some influence from the other games and of course the manga. It makes perfect sense for Blue to be full of spite if he spawned in because of/during the Temple of Droplets. It’s an ice dungeon with bottomless pits. It makes perfect sense for Red to be silly and reckless, given the minecart ride through the guts of a volcano and the fact that you have to ride the wind updrafts over lava. Vio’s dungeon comes fresh out of you needing to learn a new language, navigate a foreign culture, and then immediately solve dungeon puzzles for the first time. I haven’t gotten the Wind element yet, but so far it’s complicated and ridiculous and I look forward to seeing what I can invent for Green.

Plus if we look at the mechanics of Four Swords Adventures, it’s obvious Vio is meant to represent the “Hero of Darkness” role you get in game for “being a bother” to your teammates, and Green might be the “Hero of Light” who’s voted the most helpful in your party. Given the nature of the game(s) they’d all likely be very competitive about everything from killcount to loot, but equally willing to drop everything to do something that requires a group effort, and very synchronized when it comes to combination attacks. They bicker about the little things, but not as much about the big things that matter.

Shadow, meanwhile, is pure chaos in Hylian form. Not only does he regularly summon ridiculous bombs, but his shapeshifting power in-game means he can only be hurt by the person he’s copying, which I feel like could be useful for a fic. Also there’s the duplication thing. And the laughing. Maybe I imagined the laughing, but I sure got the impression he was laughing.

Also I think it would be funny if I gave all of them an irrational hatred of the boss monster from their elemental dungeons. Vio having a grudge against chuchus is sending me.

#loz four swords #vio link #red link #blue link #green link #shadow link

[mc-writing-empty]

1902, Kentucky.

The fire’s gone out.

Turn a little deeper into the cotton quilt your mama made in some other lifetime. Blink slow against the dimness, steep deep in the stillness as the night stretches, yawns, gives way to a blessed new morning. You are alive again.

Cold and hungry. Feel the stiffness in your bones. Feel the heavy in your flesh. The tired, the lonely, the longing. But there’s a heart thumping under your ribs—feel it sing, slow and steady, at the sight of sunbeams. Sunbeams, again, like every morning that’s ever been. Sunbeams—new every day to a heart like yours, a heart that says: sunbeams, they’re a goddamn wonder.

Lead with it—that steady little drum of joy. Grab hold and let it pull your feet to the old floorboards. Little heart, pattering out a plea to see the sky—what shade of blue today? The question is as good a reason as any to commit to another day.

Dress in the gray light. Pull on the flannels and linen and denim that will keep the cold at bay. Keep your body safe. You know what’s at stake, kid. You know what it takes—to keep your body safe.

Breathe deep, cough against the rush of the cold—your breath hangs in the air. Little ghosts. Water from the bucket by the window, splashed against your face—close to frozen, stings against your skin. You’re awake. You’re alive.

Pull on leather boots, hope the laces got another day in them. Walk out into the wide world—see the slope of the clearing you made, the way the high grass meets a wall of trees—trees bigger than god, and maybe older, too. They hug in tight around your slice of paradise, your hard-hewn home. They form a cathedral of green—and brown and gold and flashes of deep, dark red. Like old blood, dried in a smear under your heavy, swollen lip after your Pa had finally had enough of you.

There’s a quiet here so deep you can feel it in your bones. Quiet like the moment after the preacher asks for bowed heads, but before he starts praying for hell to swallow all the sinners like you. Quiet like the first girl you ever loved, in that moment after you spilled that soft, silly confession to her—but before that foreign hardness took her face, before the slow panic and repulsion made her a stranger you’d never met. Quiet like that moment when you learned your first lesson in self-preservation: love is for other people. Better people.

It’s a real shame, kid—the way the world kicks around beautiful things.

But you’re alright here, ain’t you? You’re alright. You feed the bleating sheep in their little pasture, and the chickens, too, and you love that there’s life in every inch of this place. The sheep, the sun, the seeds in the ground—they don’t give a shit who you are or what you’ve done. What you look like, what you own. You give to them, they give back. You’re alright here.

You go down to the crick for water, just as the sun starts pouring proper down into your little dip between the hills. You can feel it, warm and easy against the back of your neck. The cold can’t hold you forever. Nothing can hold you forever.

The afternoon brings a visitor—a boy, a horse, an empty cart, trundling up the holler path. You split one more log, let the pieces fall, lean the ax against the same post where you’ve hung your shed coat. The boy hops down from his saddle, raises a hand in greeting.

Brought your saw back.

He lifts the tool in question for you to see.

Pa sends his thanks.

You take the saw, and he dives into his bag to bring out a small parcel wrapped in a bit of an old flour sack.

Cornbread from Mama.

You thank him for returning the saw, and for the cornbread. He’s tall and lean—maybe a little underfed. His shoes are two sizes too small. His coat’s missing a few buttons. A boy still, pushing at the seams of what will come next. His parents can’t keep up.

You ask if they need any firewood. He refuses, says his Pa won’t accept charity. You eye the empty cart his Pa sent along with him.

You tell him he can take whatever he can split—ain’t charity if you’ve sweat for it. By the evening, he has a full cart, and you split the cornbread with him on the porch.

And maybe it’ll all count for something someday. Maybe it’ll all count when hell finally swallows you up.

Before he leaves, he stops there on the creaky old steps, looks back up at you.

Pa says you’re a good, Christian man, sir. He thinks mighty high of ye. Just thought you oughta know.

Maybe it’ll all count, when his Pa has to help put you in the ground someday.

When the evening comes, you retreat inside. Feed the fire, warm the place up. Cold dinner, ‘cause your body’s awful tired, kid. Your mind, too. You dig up a box of tobacco, take a pinch and pack it into a pipe you won in a game of cards—maybe one of the finest items you own. You sit on the porch and watch the last of the burnt bronze evening melt back into the trees. You’re alright here.

Just as the darkness of the night swells up, you see the flicker of a lantern up yonder on the hill—a soft, yellow star moving through the trees.

Could be anyone. Could be the boy, come back for more wood. Or this could be the moment everything unravels. Could be the night they drag you behind a horse, put you in a tree, bury you as someone you’re not.

You aren’t scared, but you’re ready—you fold your fingers around the rifle leaned next to the door and wait for hell to open up and swallow the sinners like you.

A quiet knock.

You open the door.

It’s her. The widow from over the next holler. She stands silent in the doorway, and her dark, tired eyes meet yours. She’s dry as a bone, but in the empty pools of shadow cast by her lantern, you could swear she was a drowning woman.

You let her step inside and you exchange pleasantries, as you always do on these visits. She asks after the book she loaned you—have you been enjoying it? You confess you haven’t had much time for reading. She offers to read a chapter or two aloud for you.

That’d be real nice, ma’am.

But neither of you moves to retrieve the book. Her hands cling to the black linen skirts of her dress, knuckles gone white with it. You can feel the empty, howling grief that came in with her, followed her like a roving spirit. You wish you knew how to help.

She cuts the space between you in half a step and touches her lips to yours. She tastes like tears and uncertainty and so many sleepless, heartsick nights.

It’s not proper. It’s not the way things ought to be. It’s not what either of you imagined, back when you were small and the world told you what your hearts should want. But no one prepares you, do they? For the weight of it all. For the sadness that creeps in between the boards, settles into your chest like a cough you can’t shake. For the way the haints and hurts hollow you out, slow and steady, until you wake up one day feeling like maybe you ain’t even a real person anymore.

You know she’s just lonely. You know she misses her husband and that you ain’t him. Don’t wanna be him. But when she pulls off your clothes, all those layers of the day—when she sinks in against you, meets your skin to hers—you remember, for a moment, that you’re wonderfully, terribly, brilliantly human. And that’s enough.

Later, in the deepest part of the night, she does read to you. Her voice dips and lulls through the bare little room, until you can’t really distinguish the words themselves—all you can hear is low, lush birdsong, and the content thumping of your own heart.

You sleep the sleep of the safe and relieved—heavy, deep sleep—and by the morning—

—the fire’s gone out.

You watch as she dresses silently in the first sunbeams of the day. As she leans in toward your dusty little mirror and pins her hair back into place. Hasty, but careful. She gathers her things, prepares to leave.

She hesitates, turns back to you in your bed. Maybe you could pretend to be asleep, but—you’ve been seen now. There’s no going back.

There’s a long, soundless moment that stretches out in the space between you. She says:

You aren’t a man.

Statement or question or accusation—you can’t be sure what she means. Can’t be sure that it matters. You give no response.

But underneath your mother’s quilt, your hands begin to tremble with fear.

She leans down, kisses your forehead with reverence, the way folks kiss the statues of saints. Or maybe it’s with pity, the way folks woulda kissed the corpses of those saints before they put them in the ground.

She leaves you there with your trembling hands.

And the fire’s gone out.

#short story #short fiction #writing #queer writers #appalachia #queer Appalachia #queer history #queer #queer literature #queer fiction #queer story #lgbtqia #prose

[somekindofsentience]

posting tiny snippets of fanfic until someone finds it interesting and i am motivated to finish it, part 3

[KEL MULTIVERSE 1 - 332]

Kel scoured the Cool Forest. It was one of those recurring places he came to, looking for more flowers. He thought he’d been here hundreds of times before, but obviously there must be something he missed. 

Kel looked around. The eerie blue leaves of white-bark trees blocked out most light, so he had to rely on the glowing red lanterns that floated among them. The lanterns were naturally formed - originally, Kel thought they were fruit, but they tasted disgusting, and they didn't make good soup, so now they lit the way during his journeys in the forest. 

They worked relatively well as soap, too. The glow came from the lanterns being filled with a strange liquid that cleaned, but didn’t strip off his flesh like the river. 

Little creatures with dozens of yellow eyes fearfully scuttled into the purple bushes as Kel peeked into them. He worked systematically, like the repetitive nature of the forest, a tree surrounded by a circle of bushes, another tree surrounded by a circle of bushes, so on, so forth. It felt like it had been copy-pasted by some vengeful God.

Ah.

He kneeled down when he spotted the soft blue glow - but froze angrily when he got a clear look into the flower.

There’s that goddamn black glass again.

Unlike the clear crystal flower from last night, this one was tinted black, swaying in the wind like it was taunting Kel. 

Why were these fucking failed-flowers even created? They didn’t even work. People can’t die twice in the same universe. He couldn’t even enter them properly, they just erred out after the double-death and he was forcefully removed. It all felt so stupid.

Kel angrily kicked at the Lily of the Valley, and it smashed on the floor, black glass shattering over the lime green dirt floor. The glow instantly died. Good riddance.

He pulled out a worn leather notebook, and took a small note, pen cap in his mouth. ‘Lily of the Valley, #2,252. Failure.’

Kel furiously searched through more bushes. If he didn’t find anything good, he was going to be so fucking mad, but there was nothing to do with that anger, except yell at the sky deliriously. He liked to pretend he was taking revenge on someone, some God, but the sky never responded, unless streaming and fading pulsing light as time changed counts as a reply.

He felt like her in those moments, in the universes where she managed to live past the age of 12. Sometimes it made it all feel better, but sometimes it just made everything worse. 

Reminded him endlessly of the point of all this.

#omori au #omori #omori kel #omori fanfic #kel multiverse au #sentience's stuff #my baby boy i'm so sorry for what i did to u #now hes all fucked up #anyway interesting things happening soon #we should actually get to see a universe next #tw: death

[leiawritesstories]

i was reading about people whose very cheap aliexpress smart watches exploded or caught on fire and i thought it’d be a good prompt? burned wrist and rowan was a hot doctor or maybe it turned into a serious fire?? idk i just thought you’d be amazing at writing an avoidable explosion leading to romance lol if you feel like it?

OMG THIS IS HILARIOUS AND IT'S SO THEM THANK U SO MUCH MARIA

word count: 1,895

warning: language, non-severe injuries 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a completely normal day, the morning sun warm but not uncomfortable against Aelin’s skin as she jogged along the familiar trail with Fleetfoot’s leash clipped to her waist, getting in her morning exercise and letting the excitable golden retriever expend her boundless energy. She glanced at her smart watch, an imitation Apple watch she’d impulsively bought off Aliexpress because the price was too damn good to resist. 

No matter Lys’s warnings. Bitch, you better be ready for the thing to be worth the five dollars you paid. Goddamn, girl, you trying to hurt yourself? You know about all those people whose Aliexpress shit exploded! And finally, just her best friend’s famous eyeroll when Aelin got the package, opened it, and promptly started wearing the watch everywhere. Because it looked like the real deal. And, if she was being honest, it worked like one too. She’d barely noticed the difference, and Aelin Galathynius wasn’t one to not recognize when something was a fake. 

She spared a quick glance at the watch as she jogged around the trail’s loop, half-propelled by her energetic pup. 2 miles. Time to loop back. Whistling to her enthusiastic dog, she circled all the way around the loop, pulling Fleetfoot back into course as they headed home. 

A few minutes later, Aelin’s wrist started to itch beneath her watch. She shifted the little screen, thinking it would relieve the itch. To her mild surprise, the screen felt...hot? Shrugging, she dismissed it as the sunlight heating up the black glass and kept running. 

Her wrist got hotter beneath the watch. She glanced down again. And did a double take. Was that...steam curling off the screen? 

Right as she reached to take it off, there was a crack and a pop of smoke, and the cheap-ass watch belched out a handful of sparks and a whole lot of steam and heat and cracked into pieces. 

“Shit!” Aelin shrieked, tossing the shattered pieces of her discount watch onto the ground. At her feet, Fleetfoot whined, sensing something wrong. “It’s okay, pup, I’ve only been proven wrong. Again.” She sighed. “Ugh, Lys is gonna have a fucking field day.” She moved her hand, testing. “Shit!” she exclaimed again, seeing the bright red burn on the back of her wrist and a couple of cuts from the watch breaking apart. 

She’d better take care of that. 

Mentally calculating the distance home, Aelin swore, realizing that her wrist was beginning to drip blood and she should really go into urgent care and make sure there wasn’t anything very wrong with it. Luckily for her, the urgent care was only about a quarter-mile from where she was, not far from her apartment complex. To keep her injury from getting worse, she took off her headband and wrapped the fabric gingerly around her wrist, keeping it covered. 

It wasn’t long before she’d arrived at the urgent care building, fastening Fleetfoot’s leash to the bike rack before entering the building. After a quick exchange with the receptionist, showing the kind older lady her wrist and filling out an intake form, Aelin waited a little anxiously on an ugly green chair, forcing herself to take deep breaths. 

“Miss Galathynius?” 

Aelin rose and followed the young woman in navy blue scrubs into one of the exam rooms. The woman gently unwrapped her wrist and examined it, her brows scrunching as she tried to determine if there was anything seriously wrong with it. 

“I’m gonna go ask the doctor to come in,” she told Aelin. “See, I’m only a med student and it’s my first urgent care rotation and I’m not sure if I should call for a scan or anything.” She was almost babbling. 

“Hey,” Aelin said softly, unable to help the part of her that wanted to soothe the clearly nervous student. “It’s okay, go ahead and get the doctor. Nobody’s going to blame you for wanting to be certain.” She grinned. “And I think you’re doing amazing, I would never have been able to tell it’s your first rotation.” 

“Thanks.” The girl blushed. “Okay, we’ll be back in a minute.” Less than five minutes later, the student was back. 

With one hell of a handsome doctor behind her. 

Aelin covertly pinched herself with her good hand in a vain effort to keep her gaze from sweeping over the doctor. Tall, muscular, eyes the precise shade of the Oakwald Forest, tanned, and with silvery hair that either meant he was as old as Emrys and she was a creep or he was a silver fox. And she still looked like a creep, checking out the doctor at urgent care. 

“Miss Galathynius?” the doctor asked. 

Aelin snapped herself back into reality. “Yes?” 

He settled himself on the wheeled stool. “Doctor Rowan Whitethorn.” 

“I can read your nametag, you know,” she joked before she could think better of it. Dammit, Galathynius, do you have to be so stupid? 

Surprisingly, Dr. Whitethorn chuckled. “Yeah, force of habit. I spend too much time at the hospital introducing myself to patients that I forget my name’s literally embroidered on my coat.” He tugged on a pair of blue latex gloves. “Evangeline here says you’ve injured your wrist?” 

All business, then. “Yeah,” Aelin sighed, holding out her arm. Rowan’s touch was firm but gentle as he examined the burn, the cuts, his gloved hand expertly feeling for any serious damage. 

She wouldn’t mind those hands feeling other parts of her. 

Mentally, Aelin slapped herself. Pull yourself together! This is a professional interaction, not a bar! “So?” she asked, unable to keep a faint edge of worry out of her voice. 

Rowan--no, Dr. Whitethorn--flashed her a charming little grin. “No major damage,” he reassured her. “Eva, grab me gauze, aloe, and antibiotic cream.” He turned back to Aelin. “I’ll clean you up and get you bandaged, and you’ll be all set to go.” 

“Thanks,” Aelin murmured as he wiped her wrist with a warm washcloth, cleaning away any dirt that might have slipped into the injury. He took the ointments from Evangeline and dabbed some onto her wrist, covering it up with gauze and wrapping a stretchy bandage around it. 

“Change the dressing before you go to bed,” he instructed. “Keep it covered for a couple of days, then you can leave off the bandage. You should be all healed in a week or so.” 

“Thanks again,” Aelin grinned. “It’s a relief to know it’s not serious.” 

Dr. Whitethorn chuckled. “Well, these kinds of injuries usually aren’t.” 

“What?” She blinked. “You’ve seen people with this exact kind of injury?” 

He just winked at her as he disposed of his gloves and stood up to leave. “The next time you want a smart watch, Miss Galathynius, you might want to buy the real thing.” 

Well, shit. 

~

A week and a half later, Aelin’s wrist had healed nicely, just like Dr. Whitethorn had said, and she, Lys, and Elide were out for drinks. She’d worn one of her favorite dresses, a form-fitting gold piece that made her ass and her tits look absolutely spectacular, and she was giggly from the shots they’d taken. 

“Psst.” Lys elbowed her in the side. “Don’t look, but there’s a fuckin’ hot piece of ass staring at you.” 

“What?” Aelin’s head whipped around, scanning the dimly lit bar, the place buzzing with conversation. 

To find a pair of pine-green eyes locked on her. 

A wicked little smirk curled the corner of her mouth. “If he’s so hot, Lys, why aren’t you going over to meet him?” she inquired, turning back to her friend as she dropped a tiny little wink in Whitethorn’s direction. 

“Because he’s looking at you like he wants to rip that dress off, that’s why,” Lys snickered, sipping at her drink. 

“Lys!” If the lights were brighter, Lys would have seen her blushing. 

“What?” The brunette winked at her. “You don’t want to get laid?” 

Aelin snorted, taking a long draw of her drink and sliding off the stool, her purse in her hand. “I’ll venmo you for drinks,” she chirped, heading onto the small dancefloor, Lys’s rather rude comment following her. 

It took all of three minutes before she felt hands slide around her waist, a pine-scented cologne drifting into her nostrils. “Miss Galathynius,” Rowan Whitethorn purred. “Fancy meeting you here.” 

“Same to you, Dr. Whitethorn,” she returned, keeping her hips swaying to the music. 

“Rowan, please,” he murmured. “Doctor is my working name, and sometimes it’s good to get away from that.” 

“Rowan,” she agreed, turning to face him, her hands looping around his neck. “Then I’m Aelin.” 

“How’s the wrist, Aelin?” he asked. 

“Almost totally healed.” 

“Good.” His voice took on a hint of a drawl. “I like seeing my patients well taken care of.” 

“Then you’ll be glad to know you took very good care of me,” Aelin smirked. Two could play this game, oh yes they could. 

Rowan’s hand flexed against her waist. “Your friends are staring at me,” he murmured into her ear. “It’s throwing me off.” 

Aelin couldn’t contain her snicker. “Lys and Elide are extremely protective, as well as extremely meddlesome.” She grinned at him. “They’re probably just making sure you’re not as old as your hair suggests.” 

“I’m thirty-one,” he sighed, “not ancient.” 

“And I’m twenty-six,” she replied. 

He grinned at her. “Want to go somewhere without protective friends?” 

“And here I thought protection was everyone’s friend,” she mumbled. 

Rowan snorted, clamping his lips together to contain the laugh that threatened to erupt. “Gods, Aelin.” 

She just winked. “Yes, I’d love to.” 

He linked his hand with hers, pulling her out the doors and down the street to another bar, this one a little less crowded, and led her to a booth as he waved to the bartender. “Vaughan’s an old friend, he’ll bring us whatever we need.” 

“Okay.” Aelin slid into the worn, comfortable booth. “So tell me, Rowan Whitethorn, how much do you like this dress?” 

~

They stayed at that bar until almost one in the morning, sharing stories and jokes and a couple of drinks, talking and laughing until Rowan glanced at the clock and swore. Time to get home. Like the gentleman he was, he drove her home, since she’d carpooled with Lys, stopping at her apartment building to let her out. 

“Thanks for the night, Rowan,” she murmured, impulsively kissing his cheek as she reached for the door. 

He caught her before she could step out, cupping one hand around the side of her face and pressing a slightly hesitant kiss to her lips. She melted into his kiss, bracing one hand on his broad shoulder for balance. When they parted, both of them were grinning. 

“When can I take you out again?” Rowan asked, his soft voice stuffed full of boyish hope. 

“I’ll text you,” Aelin promised. “My schedule gets awful at this time of year, what with so many publishings and launches scheduled. But I’ll make time.” 

“Okay,” Rowan grinned, kissing her again. 

She blew him a kiss as she walked into her building, that golden dress clinging to every curve and line of her body. In the elevator to her floor, her phone pinged with a text from Rowan. 

>Can’t wait.

>And Aelin? 

<Yeah?

>Wear that dress again.

Her lips curled into a sly smirk. Wear that dress again. 

Oh, she would.

~~~~

TAGS: please lmk if you want to be added/removed!

@charlizeed

@cretaceous-therapod

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@flora-shadowshine

@nerdperson524

@claralady

@fireheartwhitethorn4ever

@julialovebooks

@morganofthewildfire

@rowanaelinn

@wesupremeginger

@story-scribbler

@mackenzieclutt

@stardelamode

@gracie-rosee

@shanias-world

@mybloodrunsblue

@swankii-art-teacher

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@violet-mermaid7

@holdthefrickup

@goddess-aelin

@rowaelinismyotp

@dealfea

@irondork

@elentiyawhitethorn

@live-the-fangirl-life

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@chronicchthonic14

@whispers-in-the-darkest-heart

@sweet-but-stormy

@hanging-from-a-cliff

@jorjy-jo

@rowaelinrambling

@thegreyj

@silentquartz

@tomtenadia

@backtobl4ck

#my writing #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #tw: injury #doctor rowan #heeheeheehee #answered prompt

[totallysammie]

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 "𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃" ...

GENERAL

full name:  samantha jane simpson .

nicknames: sam ,  sammie .

age: twenty - six .

gender:  cis  female .

species:  human .

orientation:  bisexual , biromantic .

date of birth:  tbd .

place of birth:  beverly hills ,  california .

residence:  evermore .

occupation:  lab  technician @  evermore university .

RELATIONSHIPS

parents:  samuel simpson  ( father ) ,  gabriella simpson  ( mother ) .

sibilings:  n/a .

significant other(s):  n/a .

PHYSIQUE

faceclaim:  k.ennedy m.cmann .

eye color: green .

hair color:  red .

height: 5′5″

CHARACTER INSPO

barbara gordon (dc comics), katara (avatar: the last airbender), cherry valance (the outsiders), beth harmon (the queen's gambit), a nicer version of kat stratford (10 things i hate about you), the overachiever, the mom friend; a box filled with friendship bracelets and mementos; that feeling when you've successfully saved enough money to buy that cute outfit; threeway phone calls; a pile of annotated books; staying up late cramming for an exam you would have aced anyway; "i want to be great or nothing"; the goddamn duolingo owl.

... 𝐈'𝐌 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

HEADCANONS

samantha simpson was born to an average family in the late 90s, a family that consisted of just her and her parents. it really was average, painfully so, but she considered herself lucky. after all, sam wanted for nothing and all she had to do in return was be a good daughter, which came easily to her. she was polite, disciplined and always at the top of her class, a straight A student by all definitions. it never made her popular with the other kids, especially throughout her childhood.

though she was always happy to talk to other students and partake in group projects (that usually ended up with sam doing most of the work), she never really had any friends  —  until clover and alex came along. by the time high school came around, the three were as thick as thieves. they didn't always get along but no argument was so serious that it couldn't be fixed. so when sam realized she wasn't the only one who'd made it to evermore, her relief was immediate.

despite her strong moral compass and noble personality, sam can be a huge hypocrite at times. being the trio's mom friend, she likes to believe she knows better than clover and alex when it comes to virtually everything, even stuff outside of her realm of expertise. obviously that isn't always the case, yet she still struggles with admitting to being wrong at times. it's embarrassing to her, almost as embarrassing as blanking out during an exam.

while her wardrobe isn't as massive as clove's, it is pretty huge and mostly consists of greens, blues and floral prints. as a lover of fashion as a form of self expression and creative outlet, she's a huge advocate for making it sustainable and less harmful to the environment, and is very much against fast fashion brands and how quickly trends seem to change these days. she's much more into finding what you like and sticking with it.

probably has an entire library for brains. sam feels there's nothing more embarrassing than finding yourself in a conversation and having nothing to say about the topic, so she's made an effort to educate herself in basically everything from pop culture to niche things that somehow align with her personal interests. she's really always looking to talk about, well, anything.

thinks she's so above the girls (especially clover) for not putting her love life before all else but honestly, that isn't always the case. when she falls, she falls hard, but it hasn't really happened many times in sam's life and most recently, it hurt her pretty bad. she's much more career oriented, determined to be her own source of happiness but it does get a little lonely sometimes. it would be nice to have someone to grow old with who isn't alex or clover.

she loves her job at the lab! literally the highlight of her days. deep down, sam is hoping to be the inventor of something that will change history someday, but for now she's pretty content with what she's got.

firm believer of the whole 'healthy body, healthy mind' thing. she exercises everyday whether by working out early in the morning or going for a run, it's her way of destressing and keeping herself sane other than cleaning. she's also very big on meditation and likes to listen to podcasts while running.

sam is a polyglot! she literally learns new languages for fun, it's a whole thing.

terrible with social media, hers is pretty much managed by the girls considering they're the ones who remind her to be active in it.

#intro.

[whumperstorm]

Conceal, Don't Feel

@whumptober 2023, day #15 - Suppressed Suffering

Contents: self hatred, depression, angst, suicidal thoughts (implied), magic

The door shut behind him with a click and Luke was finally alone. Alone in his garage, separated from the rest of his housemates. Maybe this was why they really put him out here. They claimed it was because of his alchemy. Which was fair, the toxins need open air to escape, but now his little setup seemed so isolating. With no one around to see, Luke let the tears that had been brewing all day finally fall.

Wryan wouldn’t even look at him, slipping out of the room whenever he entered. Enn would, but only with glares and barely held back disdain. Luke hurt his sister after all. The one thing he promised not to do. He let both of them down.

Luke wandered over to his chemistry station, clearing a space for a fresh bottle. He truly felt awful- sadness bubbling up in his chest just like the potions he made. Maybe he’d make one now, to take the edge off of his overwhelming emotions. He certainly had enough stored up depression to make a lethargy potion.

At least he’d seen the two siblings in passing. Gene was ghosting him in a literal sense. He’d disappeared with a snap of his suspenders the moment the truth had come out and hasn't shown himself since. Luke had no idea if Gene was visible when he wasn’t around. The guy was using his powers to avoid him and that stung particularly harshly.

Luke filled a beaker with a potion base and sat down on the stool. In his head, he once again thanked The Madam for teaching him how to do this. He may be an annoying, emotional wreck, but he could still be useful.

He’d tried to confide in Pandora about all this, but not even the drama queen wanted to get involved in the mess he’d made, and had shrugged him off. It seemed everyone had already decided that he was the bad guy. He supposed that was fair.

He dipped his fingers into the beaker.

It was his fault, after all. He deserved this. He was so afraid to disappoint anyone, that he’d disappointed everyone.

The liquid began to bubble under Luke’s hand.

He was alone. Ghosted. No one wanted anything to do with him. Who would want a friend that couldn’t even love them correctly?

Luke let out a sob. From his fingertips, a deep blue color seeped into the base like dye mixing into water.

His friends don’t deserve the hurt he causes. He… he’d be better off gone. They’d be happier without him. No one needs a fuck-up like him around.

As the awful thoughts poured out of him, the potion took its form. He let himself cry and cry until the liquid turned completely blue, saturated almost to black. He retracted his hands and wiped them on a towel, then poured the beaker into a bottle, sealing the top with a cork. He felt… better. But not by much. He prepped another beaker and repeated the process.

He always limited himself to two potions per emotional wave. Usually by then they were manageable, and he’d move on with his day more relaxed and clear-headed. This time however, as he placed the new bottles on their shelf, he faltered. This all was caused by his stupid emotions. If he’d just get over himself and act like a normal person, maybe he’d be better. Maybe he’d be worth keeping around. He certainly wouldn't keep hurting his friends if he could keep his goddamn feelings in check.

Besides, he didn’t deserve to feel guilty, or wallow in his misery for what he did. He brought in on himself.

He prepped another bottle.

---

By the end of the night, twenty new potions had been brewed and stored away. Most were the same dark, midnight blue, but some were red and green. A few yellows and pinks as well. All tucked away under his desk. Out of sight where they couldn’t do any more damage.

Luke didn't feel sad anymore. That was good. That was better for everyone.

In fact… He didn’t feel much of anything at all.

#whumptober 2023 #suppressed suffering #The Seven #Luke schneider #angst #emotional whump #suicidal thoughts #my writing #my posts #no. 15

[toastess-with-the-mostess]

Let's Rewind! Toast watches Voltron: Defender of The Universe (1984)

Season 1, Episode 7: The Lion Has New Claws

Did Zarkon's voice change? I feel like it changed

Who the fuck is rowing across the castle's moat when the damn bridge is down They are the ✨drama✨

A look into the teams rooms Only Lance and Keith wake up to the alarm while Pidge is sleeping through it Even cuter, he fell asleep with his glasses on

Hunk decides it's a false alarm that he would fix later in the morning, I think this is our first indication that Hunk knows what he's doing with wires

Goddamn it not her GO OFF PIDGE, PROBABLY SHOULDN'T HAVE HIT HER SO EARLY BUT SHE DESERVES IT LATER

"Well I thought she was the witch" SHE IS ONE YOURE STILL RIGHT PIDGE

It's probably my bias against her, but man is Nanny just annoying sdionv

Allura being a girl boss already, sneaking into blue lion to train herself how to pilot it

IT'S LESS FUNNY WITHOUT THE SOUND BUT I LAUGHED WAY TOO HARD AT THIS EXCHANGE

"Now Pidge, I don't want you flying off the handle-" Keith there's a spear being pointed at the three of you because that decrepit woman doesn't know how to get things done without violence, that is more than enough reason to fly off the handle

CORAN WHY WOULD YOU FUCK THEM OVER LIKE THAT LMAOO THEY MAKE PAPER TUBE SOUNDS WHEN THEY FALL TOO OH MY GOD

Off to save the princess from herself because her babysitter threatened them!

Good for Allura, she learned to land the lion safely She fainted on the dash though

I had to skip through that spanking scene that Nanny put Allura through, especially because the boys were laughing it her while they watched That definitely didn't age well, and I'm sure there's people who didn't like seeing that even when it was first airing

There's a scene with Hunk stretching and his pants falling down?? Like ok I guess it's connected to Nanny telling Pidge he needs to be neater but,,, weird

Kova or Koba? I know later we get another character with the same name which is a big fucking mistake to do in story telling so I gotta be sure on the spelling

Oh so we're watching literal mass murder ok A robeast got to Arus again and is LITERALLY STOMPING ON EVERY BUILDING IT SEES

Not Coran literally tying Allura up I can't say I don't understand where he's coming from, especially because she's the last known living royal but c'mon you could've locked her in her room instead of tying her to a CHAIR

Animation error again, green lion had a red colored torso lol

"Piggy-back attack" what a cute name for an attack, it's just one of the lions using another as a boost to hit the robeast

I forgot to describe the robeast last episode so i'll do both now! The one that totally did not kill Sven was called the Exospike robeast and weighed at 3750 short tons! His weapons were twin forward stab spears, bone blades, fan blasters, and had an organic carbon steel exoskeleton This episode's robeast is called the Blue Fiend, not as creative, and weight 4150 short tons. The weapons are shoulder-harness XEnergy beams, king's crown spikes and horns, robust battle fists, and has dual-layer organic armor

We get a superfast cut of the mice trying to chew Allura free of the ropes and then not even a second later we're back to Keith almost getting torn apart LMAO oh nvm it just keeps going like that, really quick back and forth between Allura's escape and Keith getting manhandled

She's loose and ready to rumble! Not even 5 seconds on site, and she's already forming Voltron, good for her

Looks like we're getting closer to the final preamble before formation

Nanny why would you try to guilt-trip Allura into not flying by mentioning her dead dad, not like it worked but still that's a low blow and the only reason you're alive right now is because of her >:/

The guys are tossing her up while cheering a sweet moment only made weird by the fact that she looks so lifeless while she's being tossed LMAO

Episode end! I'm not looking forward to seeing more of nanny, she's a gross addition But we've got Allura in blue now with a pink uniform! I wonder why they gave her pink in this show, I mean other than her being a Girl™️

#voltron #voltron defender of the universe #voltron dotu #80s voltron #toast talks #Let's Rewind! #I had to do a fire alarm drill today so I might not be able to put out another #mostly because I have homework lol

[extraneousdominomask]

more like super smash SISTERS.

happy non-denominational winter holiday season, you animals

Ten years ago, I wrote and published my first long-form crossover fanfiction. It was intended to function as an advent calendar, with 23 individual chapters to be read once a day in December, with a finale on Christmas Eve. In practice, two chapters were cut when the finale ballooned in scope; the standard format ends on Day 21 so the final three days can be devoted to wrap-up.

What was the standard format, you may ask? Well, the story grew from something unbelievably Autistic(tm) I had done in previous years, where I poured out a bunch of blorbos on the floor and arranged them into small piles. Continuing this trend, each chapter featured three characters, all from different things, fighting a villain from a fourth thing in a location from a fifth thing.

Yes, it was bad.

But as I forced myself to reread it for its ten-year anniversary, I noticed something deeply unnerving. I noted, with some amusement, that while Marvel Comics was easily the most widely represented pool of characters (thanks in part to, say, RDJ's charismatic Tony Stark registering as a fundamentally different entity than his milquetoast comics version; conversely, favourites like Deadpool, She-Hulk and Doctor Doom had no cromulent adaptations at that juncture), the same was very much not true of DC. There are exactly four DC characters - specifically the Batman: The Brave and the Bold version of Aquaman, Red Tornado(???), mark hamill's...... the JOKER, and Green Lantern. All of them die immediately. Lol.

But then I had to ask myself: wait. Where's Catwoman?

And that led to the much more dangerous question: where's ANY woman

21 times four is 84. Eighty-four characters. Of these, seventy are he/him, thirteen are she/her, and one is Pyro Teamfortress2. (Sloppily referred to in narration alternately as 'he' and 'it'.) Day 12 features two female characters, and then there is an eight-day gap where every single chapter is male-only until motherfuggin Day 20

Don't worry, it gets worse. By and large there was a less-than-50% survival rate. Of the 84 characters, 34 make it to the end; 30 men and four women. Of the starting 13, six die immediately (as the DC characters and Pyro do) and three die subsequently. One of the four survivors contributes nothing to the final battle other than having her throat slit (non-fatally...?) in front of a male friend as motivation.

Now, is this is the worst thing about the story? Lord, no. There are plenty of other places to start. But in my modern capacity as the women-respectin' ThievesInTime-hatin' male feminist I am, it's something that embarrasses me. A different, more bearable embarrassment than the one arising from the presence of internet reviewers in this story, but embarrassment nontheless.

To! That! End! I have wrung one last category five autism incident out of this adolescent enterprise, by assembling a new, modern roster of 84 goddamn characters. I only allowed myself 13 he/him characters, and only in the exact same weird pacing of the original story. I was a little looser with the non-binary characters, who I upped by 500% - a 'they', a 'they/it', a 's/he' [sic], a fucked up evil dark fantasy 'it', and someone who used to alternate between 'he' and 'she' mid-sentence before settling on 'they'. Also I didn't bother with locations because I barely found that fun the first time

Full list under the cut, because this has gone on long enough and I doubt anybody read this far anyway. Okay!

1: Carmelita, Catwoman, Valkyrie vs Victor von Doom (Sly Cooper, DC Comics, Skulduggery Pleasant, Marvel Comics)

2: Judy, Freya, Static vs Princess Azula (Zootopia, Final Fantasy IX, DC/Milestone, Avatar the Last Airbender)

3: Mae, Toph, Taako vs Maleficent (Night in the Woods, A:tLA, The Adventure Zone, Sleeping Beauty)

4: Carolina, Radical Edward, Reigen vs Xanatos (Red vs Blue, Cowboy Bebop, Mob Psycho 100, Gargoyles)

5: Blake, Gwen, Luz vs Nye (RWBY, Into the Spider-verse/Marvel, The Owl House, SP)

6: Junahi, Krystal, Crusch Lulu vs Zaheer (Knights of the Old Republic, StarFox, Overlord, The Legend of Korra)

7: Peridot, Quina, Holtzmann vs Neyla (Steven Universe, FFIX, Ghostbusters, SC)

8: Jadzia Dax, Garrus, Rivet vs Wolf (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Mass Effect, Ratchet & Clank, StarFox)

9: Diane Foxington, Kay Faraday, Parker vs Carmen Sandiego (The Bad Guys, Ace Attorney, Leverage, C... carmen sandiego.)

10: Penelope, Rikku, Tali vs Entrapta (SC, Final Fantasy X, ME, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

11: Tanith, Katara, Alex Vega vs Queen (SP, A:tLA, Deus Ex Mankind Divided, Deltarune)

12: Nick, Legoshi, Webs vs Liv (Zootopia, Beastars, The Bad Guys, Into the Spider-verse)

13: Lulu, Eda, Never vs Mz. Ruby (FFX, TOH, SP, SC)

14: Riza Hawkeye, Legion, Ruby vs Sniper Wolf (FullMetal Alchemist, ME, RWBY, Metal Gear Solid)

15: Kat, Michiru, Maya vs Catra (Gravity Rush/Daze, Brand New Animal, Ace Attorney, S:POP)

16: Amelia, Tigress, Ty Lee vs Risky Boots (Treasure Planet, Kung Fu Panda, A:tLA, Shantae)

17: Yang, Susie, Tex vs Spinel (RWBY, Deltarune, RvB, SU)

18: Hawkgirl, Undyne, Marceline vs Demona (DCAU, Undertale, Adventure Time, Gargoyles)

19: Bismuth, Aisha ClanClan, She-Hulk vs Augustine (SU, Outlaw Star, Marvel Comics, inFAMOUS Second Son)

20: Blacksad, Sophie Devereaux, Mz. Pauling vs Double Trouble (Blacksad, Leverage, Team Fortress 2, S:POP)

21: Mission, Grif, Data, vs GLADoS (KotOR, RvB, Star Trek The Next Generation, Portal)

#this was. hard #SO many stories have a small number of thinly-written female characters

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Rpg Anon: So yeah I said I'd like to make some changes to the Hajime's Shiva Persona design thoughts I said. First things first, I based my thoughts on Shiva from actual Hindu depictions, Smite, Record of Ragnarok, and SMTV/Persona. Now for some new ideas plus some changes:

First of all, I changed my mind slightly on the two floating mechanical arms. They'll still be mechanical somewhat, but I want them basically attached to his back now. Kinda like he's got a cybernetic backpack with arms that serve as his upper extra pair. Take a look at this image below (I got it from Smite itself; do i still need to credit it?)

This is Smite Shiva concept art. You see how his two upper arms come from behind him and behind his other arms specifically? That's kinda what I think would be better now. Except again, mechanical appendages. Basically he's truly got the normal two arms human anatomy but he's bringing cybernetic enhancements (doesn't necessarily mean it has to be fused into his skin and body tho). I don't want his upper mech arms to be overly giant tho. I prefer the same size as his real arms.

Now I can get into the smaller but finer details. First, I don't intend on him being full mechanical. I kinda intend a Shiva Persona to still be the classic and traditional design (refer to SMT/Persona design and definitely again to the Smite design; theyre downright correct and accurate to what Shiva looks like). In other words, he'd definitely be more flesh than cybernetic. So yes, he'd still have the basically shirtless muscular warrior look with the tiger pelt/loincloth, the snake around his neck (mod, you can modify this part so it matches up with the Hajime themes and mecha themes if you want, however you want. Just makes sure it's still wrapped around his neck), and etc. That said, I wouldn't mind him wearing awesome metal/cybernetic gauntlets on all four arms.

Side note: Definitely blue skin. This Shiva Persona design for Hajime has to have it no matter what cuz it's goddamn Shiva.

Next, he has Izuru hair. Gotta cram in some Hajime stuff and you can kinda believe Shiva would have such long hair if he untied it.

Next, he has a face mask similar to Izanagi's. Also, he's got the green and red eye color Hajime's got. Straight up fanservice here.

Next, his third eye is going to be one hell of a sci-fi fantasy shit. You ever seen Raiden from Metal Gear Revengeance? You seen how he has that black face mask? Yep, I want this Shiva to have something similar where some mechanical pieces from the side come to together to form the traditional Shiva Third Eye design over his face. And then yes, the design then glows and shoots motherfucking flaming laser beams of death. Look up pictures online of Shiva killing Kama; you'll see what it looks like.

Now for some slight animation changes. For any physical move, I don't want him to still be in his idle/summoned pose of him meditating and levitating when doing it anymore. So now, he starts out the meditating and levitating pose but leaves out of it when doing the lunging stab or slash. The jojo style rapid fire punching is the same with him leaving the pose to do his thing. He only stays in the stance when doing his offensive or support magic spells. The Tandava unique skill is the only exception cuz I need him to start dancing.

(Omfg I just realize I have literally recreated Mecha Shiva. Kill me now.)

I probably forgot some other changes I wanted to say but i think I'm good for now. So yes, these are some details to Hajime's Shiva Persona in my vision. What do you think?

//Cool.

//Like, that's literally all I have to say. That's a cool idea.

//Also, this might be the most obnoxiously long ask anyone has ever sent on this blog, lol.

-Mod

#mod

[smokeybrandreviews]

Objection!!

She-Hulk ended today and i was pleasantly surprised. These last two episodes are some of the best MCU TV has had to offer, which is a shame because the entirety of the show is aggressively mid. Overall, it’s probably the weakest of the entries but that’s not saying much because none of them have been really completely “good.” Well, that’s kind of a misnomer because both Loki and WandaVision were excellent, most of the time. WandaVision fumbled the bag at the goal and Loki was just all over the place in term of tone but generally good the whole way through. It also had the benefit of being THE entry that moved the overall Phase needle forward with them solid f*cking Variant shenanigans. She-Hulk, by comparison, felt like filler. Entertaining filler but filler, nonetheless. I know that seems like I'm rather apathetic toward the show but, truthfully? I had a pretty good time with it. There are some great aspects about this show. Not enough to distract from some atrocious writing, but enough for me to want to binge it all over again.

Obviously the best episode of this show was the one with Daredevil. Feige had blue-balled us enough and we got some solid Matt Murdock action that felt earnest, respectful of his brilliant Netflix adventures (which are technically canon because of the multiverse so good job, Sylvie!), and really introduced the character with aplomb. I Loved the Yellow/Red suit and the fact that Matt was still very much Matt, thanks to Charlie Cox just breathing that character. I absolutely adored the chemistry he had with Tatiana Maslany (who is the very best thing about this show, even when it’s trudging through the mire of mediocrity) and i genuinely hope we get more of that in the future. Other stuff i enjoyed were the many, many, Easter eggs and D-list villains that sprinkled throughout this ridiculous farce of a show. Sh*t should have been called She-Hulk: Eater Egg Vehicle because these callbacks were a plenty. Obviously, i loved Wongers and his new bestie, Madisynn. Blonksy was a surprise, genuinely thought this change to his character was brilliant. Kind of hoped they would have went farther with it but i can see the potential. And that’s where the disconnect is with me; This should never really capitalized on that ridiculous potential.

The execution of this show was VERY bad. Like, some of the worst I've seen in the entirety of the MCU.  I would verge to say it WAS the e worst, but Thor: The Dark World exists. That steaming pile throws the curve but i digress. The writing in She-Hulk does not even come close to what this show wants to explore. It’s all superficial virtue signaling and that sucks because the messages this show wanted to champion, are very real. The reasoning behind Jen CAN control her rage much better than Bruce, makes sense to me. She’s never shown to be “better”  her cousin, just different. Jen is shown to be strong, sure, but nowhere near as powerful as the Hulk. She is, however, far more agile and quick on her feet, just like in the comic. I loved the commentary about Intelligencia and the trolls and all that sh*t because it is very relevant in this age of revenge porn, incel rage, and anonymous doxxing. This stuff makes sense and it’s wildly intriguing, specially framed around the strongest female hero in the MCU’s pantheon. Like, individually, all of this stuff works. Jen struggling to come to terms with being She-Hulk. The existential crisis of people wanted the giant green mommy and not scrawny, human, Jen. Her struggle to find love in a world of seemingly endless inferior men. I get that. I’d watch that. I did watch that. I just wish it was better and this sentiment can be attribution to all of the MCU TV outings.

I love the idea of long form storytelling for the MCU. I would love to see an hours long character study of Dr. Doom, interwoven with political intrigue or follow a Shana the She-devil serial as she survives in the goddamn Savage Land. But the Frank Cho one, with the secret Nazi Super-Soldier cloning origin. That sh*t was dope. The problem is that Feige hasn’t cracked this nut just yet. Similar to how She-Hulk was solid on paper but poor in execution, the MCU hasn’t figured out how to actually make compelling TV yet. It’s there, i can see it with stuff like Falcon and Bucky or Moon Knight but it’s not quite ready to BE MCU, you know what i mean? Like, this is Phase Four and, in a lot of ways, it feels as clumsy as Phase One, which makes sense. The Infinity saga was eleven years of coherent, canonical, storytelling but it ended with Endgame. What we have now is another start to, hopefully, a decade’s long journey culminating in  something just as exceptional but it has to start somewhere. And it’s starting just like the entire MCU did: Stumbling out the gate. She-Hulk: Attorney at Law was fun. It’s not great but it’s nowhere near as bad as certain, very vocal branches of the fandom, would want you to believe. You can have a great time if you go in with the understanding this ain’t Phase Three Marvel. It’s closer to Phase One and a half. But that can be said about all of the other shows, too so, you know, pick your poison i guess?

#She-Hulk: Attorney at Law #She-Hulk #MCU #Marvel