#honestly what i liked the more about my first attempt at drawing them is killer's whole energy

[lil-tachyon]

For the last couple weeks I've been drawing logos / designs for local-ish (mostly NJ, some PA and NY) bands as warmups in the morning. Here's what I've come up with! Massive post below the break explaining each logo + where to find each band and listen to their music.

Teenage Halloween- a staple of New Jersey basements for probably about a decade now and finally getting wider recognition in the last couple years. Pop punk / power pop with a killer horn section. First time I saw them was in New Brunswick playing with Walter Etc. and Blowout. They played a killer cover "Build Me Up Buttercup" and my wife got a black eye in the pit. Recommended tracks: "Brain Song," "666," "Clarity." Their first EP is on a separate bandcamp page btw, check it out here it's great.

Sweet Pill - They will call themselves a Philly band but in my heart they'll always be from Glassboro. Definitely one of the more recognizable names on this list. Emo revival - early stuff is more twinkly, more recent stuff is heavier. All of it's great. Recommended tracks "Nephew," "High Hopes."

Shark Club - Central Jersey's finest. I'm very biased because I actually know these dudes and they did the music for my wedding. Some of the best pop punk you'll hear and the nicest people you'll meet. Recommended tracks: "Game Theory," "Bill Murray," "Heavens to Betsy."

Rest Ashore - My favorite band for the last (oh God I'm old now) eight years. From gut-wrenching emo ballads to virtuoso math-rock instrumentals they do it all. One time I got to sing vocals on "Lucy's Theme" at a house show- thank you Erica! Recommended tracks: "Hjarta," "Chinese Opera," "Devotion," "Soyuz Sweetheart." Too many bangers to name honestly, just deep dive their discography.

Morus Alba - First band I ever went to see at a house show and still one of my absolute favorites. Their music feels like the bridge between the best pitchfork, /mu/ alt rock bands and high energy basement emo. I mean that as a compliment and I hope it comes off as one lol. I should note that since 2019 Morus Alba has morphed from a band into an experimental hip-hop project so later releases sound radically different and basically disconnected from the earlier stuff. Also my favorite release from them, Live at Isabelle's, has been scrubbed from the internet but if you'd like the files just email me. Recommended tracks: "Skyscraper," "Human Resources," "The Goodnight Waltz."

Have a Good Season - another Jersey mainstay that's still going strong. Emo revival in their earlier releases, now with more 70s power pop influences in their newer stuff. See them live, they put on a fantastic show and usually play some great covers in addition to their original music. HaGS guys if you're reading this, please put your version of "Since You've Been Gone" online, I'm begging you. Recommended tracks: "Joseph / Shel Silverstein," (you have to listen to them together for the drop, so good) , "Gum, "Gleaux / Scab." Also, frontman Nic Palermo interviewed me once.

Elephant Jake - If you see any of these bands live make it EJ, they put on such a damn good show. Electrifying indie punk from the Empire State. Recommended tracks: "F.D.C." "Sarah Moyer," "Goodness to Honest," and of course you gotta learn "Sebastien Bauer" for the singalongs.

Blind Lion - Sadly one of the greats that we lost along the way. Defunct since about 2017. I only got to see them once but it was a great performance. Alongside their own stuff they played some killer covers of "Bad Moon Rising" and "Moonage Daydream." I had trouble doing a logo design for them because I actually really like the composition, if not the "Ed Hardy-ness," of their existing logo so what you see here are two separate attempts, neither of which feels entirely satisfying to me. Frontperson Larry Flately currently plays in Nematode and also handled production of Bradley Gardens joke hiphop group The Breakfast Boiz under the moniker "DJ Ova EZ." Recommended tracks: "Brumous," "Dinner."

Fighting Seasons - A band that I sadly found out about too late (via a sticker under the bridge in my town which has since been painted over). 2010s pop punk that packs a helluva punch, especially considering that I'm pretty sure the members were high schoolers for most of the band's existence. I think some members may have gone on to form Sawce (FFO Chon, Polyphia, that type of music) but I can't remember where I read/heard that so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Recommended tracks: "Fighting Seasons," "Oil on Canvas"

Milkmen- Another fallen giant, officially disbanded in 2019. Like Morus Alba, they played the very first house show I attended and their few releases remain on constant rotation in my home. Used to put on a great show and were one of the bands I always thought would make it big until suddenly they weren't around anymore. Frontman Ben Thieberger contributed guitar and vocals to Covid quarantine project Kin if you're looking for a bit of an extra fix but beyond that I don't know what these guys are up to these days, sadly. Recommended tracks: "Ramus," "Johnny Dangerously," "how sieves catch breeze," "K.O.T.H."

Stand and Wave - New York (now Philly) pop punkers delivering instant dopamine hits with every track. Another great live act, see them with EJ if you can! They often play shows together. Recommended tracks: "Convos," "Mrs. Dash," "Splashton Kutcher," "Michael Collins."

My Chemical Romance - You know who they are. While I was drawing all these other logos I ran a poll on Patreon to decide which famous New Jersey band should also be graced with a drawing from me. MCR won the poll by a hefty margin so unfortunately you won't get to see me do an illegible black metal take on Hoboken's Yo La Tengo. I ended up doing two versions: the one with the halo is the first, the one with the bats was the second. I tried to do something kind of thin and elegant with the first one and I don't think it's terrible but I also wasn't quite satisfied with it. For the 2nd attempt I tried to lean into the kind of pulpy, almost horror punk aesthetic of early MCR and I think that one looks better even if it's less original.

Anyway if you took the time to read through all this, thank you very much! And please support these bands! Also If any of the links aren't working please let me know.

-Logan

#emo #pop punk #new jersey #band logo #logo design #punk #my chemical romance #mcr #emo revival

[shirohige-pirates]

Just Like Fire

CisFem Reader x Portgas D. Ace

CW: angst, language, erotic, violence, serial killer, stalking, poisoning, over-bearing controlling parents, attempted forced marriage, possible dub-con, Munchausen by proxy (aka Factitious Disorder), wildly cute and fluffy despite the warnings. 18+ only

Summary: You're Sabo's biological sister in this AU. After college you moved in with your dear brother and his two sworn brothers in order to avoid going back home. You and Sabo despise your family equally.

Chapter 6: Hospitality

Sabo didn’t just get you the day off work. He made sure he was off work and even made sure Ace and Luffy were as well. Your visit to the hospital was becoming a Found Family affair.

You were alright with it. Whatever happened you were going to want support, and whatever happened Luffy and Ace would’ve been told about it anyway. You couldn’t imagine keeping anything from either of them, even after just a few weeks of time together.

Luffy didn’t know a stranger in the first place, and Ace was very friendly and easy to be around as well. It had only taken a couple of days before it had felt like you’d lived in that house for years. It was a warm and welcoming feeling, but it was also strangely terrifying.

You just weren’t sure why, or how to put it into words.

The four of you were in an office with Trafalgar Law and Tony Chopper. Law was a taller man with dark hair, bright golden eyes and dark circles under those eyes. He had tattoos pretty much everywhere, which was unusual for a surgeon, but you couldn’t imagine anyone was going to tell him he had to look a certain way, given his ability. Tony Chopper was, as far as you could tell, a very small mink. You hadn’t seen any minks before, but you had read about them and learned of their existence before now. Seeing one in person was an experience, and Chopper was quite cute.

He was also an incredibly skilled pharmacist.

After introductions and glowing praise from Luffy, you all got down to business.

“It’s going to be fairly simple.” Law begins to explain. “Chopper will take your medication and begin an analysis on it using the hospital’s facilities. In the meantime, we’ll get you settled into a room and I’ll begin the scanning process. Thanks to my curse it’s completely non-invasive, and you won’t even have to change into a hospital gown or anything like that.”

You nod in understanding. “If your scan doesn’t reveal anything, what do we do after that?” You question.

A small smile pulls at Law’s lips. “Most people don’t question the scan, but it does have some limitations. We’ll do blood draws and consider other options if the scanning process doesn’t reveal anything, but there’s not much that can hide from me.

“The most I can say right now, is that no matter what you’ll come out of this with a better understanding of whatever is ailing you, Miss (Y/N)-ya.” He says assuringly. “One of the caveats of my working for the city is that I cannot be forced or bought by even the Celestial Dragons. Your parents might not have even been aware that I was an available option.”

“Also, Trafalgar’s only been a surgeon for the city for the last few years, so he wouldn’t have been an option at all when we were children.” Sabo points out and you nod.

“Oh, yeah. I… I understand that. Honestly, I think I’m just more nervous than I thought I was.” You admit, looking down at your hands that were balled up in your lap.

Chopper comes over and puts a cloven hand over yours, looking up at you with a smile. “It’ll be okay, we’ll do our best. Even if it is something that’s truly impossible to cure, we can certainly make improvements to the medication. Luffy says it’s been the same since you were a child?”

You nod. “The pills have always been the same. If there were any changes or improvements over the last two decades, then I haven’t noticed.”

Chopper tucks the pill bottle into a pocket and begins to leave the room. “I’ll get started on it right away then, analysis may take a few hours, but we’ve made plans to keep you here for the day, so don’t worry about time.”

You smile kindly at him as he leaves. “A single day in the hospital is hardly any time at all, but thank you Dr. Chopper.”

You can see the embarrassment and joy in his expression as he leaves with a cute little laugh. If all minks were half as adorable as Chopper, you should like to meet more of them.

“Alright, let’s get you moved into the room, and we can begin.” Law offers, standing up and leading you and your little group through the hospital quietly.

The sights, sounds, and smells of a hospital seemed to be universal. Everything was the same from when you were child, several islands away from this one – the scents and sounds were hauntingly similar. It almost made your stomach knot a little, it had been a few years since you had last needed to be admitted into a hospital. For better or worse, your condition had effectively stabilized the last few years.

Law brings you into a nice private room and steps to the side as he motions for you to lay down on the bed provided. There are a few chairs available and Sabo and Ace step away and give you and the doctor a little space. Luffy sits on the window ledge and looks out for a few minutes, but being the ball of energy that he is, the two other brothers send him off to get snacks and drinks just so he doesn’t start pacing in the room.

“You shouldn’t feel anything during this,” Law begins to explain as you see the air around you shift like someone put blue-tinted glasses on you. “But if anything hurts or feels uncomfortable, speak up.”

You nod in understanding as he starts muttering under his breath, focusing on you as his hands move over you. He was several feet away from actually touching you, but the focus was more intense than you had expected, and you kept glancing over at Sabo and Ace. The two were watching you and the doctor and seemed to be almost as apprehensive as you felt.

You were able to relax a little when you realized their apprehension had nothing to do with the doctor himself. It was the tension of waiting that was getting to them.

You look back over at Law and feel your entire body tense.

“What’s wrong?” You question softly. You’re surprised the words even manage to leave your lips. The look on his face is so tense that you’re almost afraid to speak.

He lets out a quiet breath and the expression on his face softens. “You’ve been living with quite the ordeal for a long time.” He says, and you can see sweat slip down the side of his face. “Talk me through it. How long have you had symptoms? What are they, have they changed, and do you remember when they began?”

“I – sorry, why do you want to know what order things happened in?”

“If you can remember.” He jerks a thumb toward Sabo, but he doesn’t take his eyes off what he’s focused on. “Anything your brother can remember might be useful.”

You look over at Sabo, who’s already coming over closer to the bed.

“She’s been sick as long as I can remember.”

“From birth?” Law prompts.

“I would’ve been three.” Sabo admits, but he seems to be trying to remember regardless. “I don’t think she came home from the hospital sick. It was… It was at least a couple years. She was walking and beginning to talk… I think I was… I was eight when she fell sick the first time.”

“Wait,” Ace is up and out of his chair. “Is that when you ran into Me and Luff?”

Sabo nods. “I was getting underfoot according to my mother, and she sent me out of the house. I was so worried I ended up leaving the manor grounds entirely.”

“Did she get better?” Law asks.

Sabo considers for a moment and nods. “Yeah, we played together for a few months, I remember. Then she fell ill again. After that it seemed to be common enough that it was just… normal.”

“Tell me what a bad day is like, (Y/N)-ya.” Law prompts.

“Ah… It’s hard to get out of bed. The blankets feel heavy, and even if I feel alert mentally it’s like my limbs don’t want to move. Some days I can feel my bones move beneath my muscles, and some days everything aches when my heart beats.” You explain.

“Severe fatigue. Any burning sensations in your joints? Headaches? Nausea?” He questions.

“Yes. The burning sensation is constant. Headaches come and go, and I… I don’t really feel nauseous unless something else is affecting me.”

“Something else like what?”

“Um… stress, or exhaustion.” You admit. “I had a tense coffee date Saturday that roiled my stomach, but it’s been behaving itself for the most part.”

Law makes a noise of affirmation but doesn’t ask anything further. Sabo looks from you to him for a moment before he takes a step back. He doesn’t return to his original seat by Ace, but you can see the gears in his head turning.

Another few long minutes pass and the blue filter over your vision fades and Law puts his hands back down to his sides. All eyes are on him, but he doesn’t even seem to care that Sabo and Ace are there, as he looks down at you.

“I’m going to go confer with Dr. Chopper over a couple of things, and I think we’ll have some options we can offer going forward.” He says evenly. You can tell he’s choosing his words carefully, and as much as you want him to clarify you know that’s not going to happen yet. “Stay here, try to relax. You’re allowed to eat anything from the cafeteria that you want to.”

He turns toward Ace and Sabo, before pointing to a few things. “There’s an emergency call button if anything happens, and the nurses’ station is just down the hall, but I shouldn’t be too long.”

“Okay, thank you.” You say, staying laid down and trying to relax. You look over at Sabo as Law leaves and your brother is lost in his thoughts so much that Ace comes up and nudges him to get his attention.

He looks at Ace and then to you and puts on a smile. “I know we sent Luffy for snacks, but I think I’ll get you a proper meal since we’ll be waiting a while.” He leans down and kisses your forehead before leaving the room.

Ace pulls a chair over by the bedside and sits down with you. There’s a heavy silence between the two of you, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Anything on your mind?” He prompts after a minute.

You give him a weak chuckle. “A myriad of things, honestly.”

“Myriad, huh? A veritable cornucopia of thoughts.” He mimics Sabo’s tone when he’s making fun of the noble accent, and your face crinkles in a quiet laugh.

“Something like that.” You admit with a smile. “Too much to try and sort through, but also…”

“Yeah,” Ace agrees. “You don’t want to think yourself into a frenzy until the doctors come back and give you facts to work with.”

“Exactly.” You sigh a little. “Sabo’s already coming to his own conclusions, I can see it on his face.”

“I think we all are.” Ace admits. The sheepish smile he gives you is barely hiding the darker thoughts behind it.

“Yeah.”

“But hey, considering he wanted to talk to Chopper, I think that’s good news.” He says, his expression truly lighting up. “That means there’s a good chance they can fix things, or at least improve them, and even if it’s just a little bit, that’s still something.”

“It’s certainly not nothing.” You joke. “Ah… hey, thank you, by the way.”

Ace tilts his head and you can feel the heat coming into your face. “For… for coming here. For staying. I mean, you and Luffy both came, and I knew he was going to have to fidget and wander around, but I hadn’t expected Sabo would need to leave, and – I’m just glad I’m not in here by myself right now.”

Ace smiles, and it lights up his eyes despite all the heavy news. “It’s my pleasure. Ah, it’s the least a tyrant like me can do for a proper lady, after all.”

You almost snort trying not to laugh. “I thought you insisted you were a ruffian at worst.”

Ace starts to speak, and you can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks just from the almost shy look on his face. “I mean, for you I think I’d be okay being a he-.”

“Oi! Is this the right room?” Luffy’s voice trails into the room as he peers inside. “Yes! Finally!”

Ace sighs, looking back over to his younger brother. “Please tell me you didn’t get lost in a hospital, Lu. You weren’t bothering other patients, I hope.”

“Nah, I mean, yeah, I got turned around, but I knew the room number. I just ended up finding a few other things, and I got a little distracted, sorry.” He looks around. “Are we done?”

“Hah? No. Law went to go talk to Chopper, and Sabo went to go get (Y/N) a proper meal from the cafeteria.” Ace looks at Luffy again and is on his feet. “Oi, speaking of, you were supposed to get snacks for everyone. Why are your hands empty, Luffy?”

Luffy, you’ve learned, has a terrible poker face, and as his mouth scrunches up you already know he’s given himself away. “I got a little distracted.”

“You said you found things, and not that you ate all the snacks!” Ace nearly hisses grabbing Luffy by his shirt collar. “Did you empty all the vending machines and then eat it all?”

“I didn’t empty all the vending machines!” Luffy asserts angrily before he puts his hands over his mouth.

“You little glutton.” Ace sighs, shaking Luffy back and forth a little. “Sabo only went to get food for (Y/N), not the rest of us!”

“I can share.” You offer, trying not to laugh at the antics playing out in front of you. “Speaking of, can you help me raise this bed? I don’t want to try and eat laying down.”

“You’re not sharing, you need the food.” Ace insists, coming over and finding the controls for the bed as he helps you sit up while he adjusts it. “When Sabo comes back I’ll just drag Luffy with me to the cafeteria.”

You start to say something when two men and a bear walk into the room. One has strawberry blonde hair, the other short dark cropped hair, and the mink was white-furred. They all wore orderly uniforms and greeted you with a smile.

“Bepo!” Luffy exclaims, jumping up and giving the mink a hug.

“It’s always the big cuddly mink who gets all the attention.” The strawberry blonde says.

The other man comes to your bedside, pulling a cart up next to him. “My name’s Penguin, Miss (Y/N). Dr. Law asked us to draw some blood. Have you eaten yet today?”

“Sa-chan!” Luffy says, stretching over to pull the other man into the hug. You can’t help yourself as your jaw goes a little slack and you gasp. It’s the first time you’ve seen any indication of Luffy’s curse, and it’s caught you a little off-guard. You don’t notice Ace tense behind you as you shake your head and turn your attention back to Penguin.

“I haven’t eaten yet. My brother’s gone to get me lunch, should I hold off when he returns?”

“Not at all.” He replies with a smile. “I just wanted to be sure you were fasting for this before I labeled it.”

You roll up your sleeve and set it on the bar of the bed. “There’s usually a bit of a struggle to find a vein, but I did try to drink extra water today to help.”

You’re already turning your head away as Penguin replies. “Thank you for that, I’ll get this over with as quickly as I can.”

“Thank you.” You say, trying not to let your voice crack.

“Do you want a hug from Bepo?” Penguin asks as he ties the tourniquet into place.

“Ah, no, he’s… he’s a friend of Luffy’s, and I’ll be okay.” You insist, trying not to think about the inevitable.

You feel warmth over your hand and look down to see Ace’s hand over yours. He crouches down to be at eye level with you and you give him a weak smile.

“Little embarrassing.” You admit. “All those years in hospitals, you’d think I’d be used to this.”

Ace smiles. “I don’t like ‘em either. I always give Marco a headache when we’re getting boosters and such for the station.”

“Is… Is it rude to ask about Luffy?” You question softly, and Ace shakes his head. “Is he made of rubber, or am I hallucinating?”

Ace nearly laughs. “He is very rubbery.”

You smile. “It explains why he’s always bouncing off the walls.” You giggle at your own terrible joke and notice Ace’s entire body relax as he gives you an easy smile.

“I’m sure he’d be that way even if he wasn’t made of rubber.” Ace beams at you, laughing quietly.

“Oh, did Ace get a new girlfriend?” The strawberry blonde asks, and you feel Ace flinch before you both turn toward him.

“(Y/N) is nakama.” Luffy answers, hanging upside down off Bepo’s arm. “She’s Sabo’s sister.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Sachi, she’s our newest housemate.” Ace says, but something in his tone makes you think he’s irritated.

You see Sachi grin, but he doesn’t say anything, at least not until Luffy bumps into him from swinging back and forth on Bepo’s arm. The two get into a little argument between themselves and you can hear Luffy apologizing half-heartedly.

You nearly look over at Penguin, but turn your gaze away before you see anything.

“Almost done.” He says kindly. “You’re doing great Miss (Y/N).”

“I’m doing little more than maintaining my composure.” You admit with a nervous tone.

“I stand by my statement.” Penguin asserts.

Penguin finishes up after another minute and the three of them leave the room. Luffy leaves with them, promising Ace he’ll bring back snacks. Ace starts after him, but you squeeze his hand on reflex and he stops.

You pull your hand back, a mortified look on your face. “I’m sorry, I – I didn’t mean to stop you.”

“… It’s okay.” Ace says, sitting down next to the bed again. “I did say earlier I would stay; I almost broke my word.”

You smile despite your embarrassment. “The word of a ruffian.” You tease.

“Tyrant.” Ace corrects with a cheeky grin and a wink.

#just like fire #portgas d ace #x reader #portgas d ace x reader #reader insert

[imsailorpluto]

Island - 아일랜드

thoughts pt xyz, pre-finale

It all started with a few cool gifs on suggested for you page. Then I found the show and watched the first part. Next thing you know, I was reading the old manhwa, it was like discovering oasis in the middle of a desert. At first I was ecstatic but then disappointment hit me and I tried to brush it off. I thought reading manhwa would give me some solid answers regarding drama. Despite the fact it didn't, reading this unfinished masterpiece was extremely enjoyable. There is a new remake of manhwa, which I'm not a big fan of and honestly doubt I'll be finishing it (but you never know, curiosity does wonders if applied constructively).

The thing is, I'm in love with the old graphics of Island. This is it for me. I don't want the reboot. I want the old manhwa to continue where it stopped. That's Island.

If you've meet Pan and Miho through manhwa, then watching the drama might be quite shocking. These two (four??) characters only resemble each other. As a matter of fact, atmospheres these two products bring are not comparable at all. The only consistency that keeps binding manhwa and drama seems to be Johan or John, whatever you want to call him, although even he was wrongfully neglected too many times. He isn't a weak boy who can easily be stopped by someone pulling on his hoodie, and although such depiction does contribute to his cute image, it also contributes to making him look weak. That, he most certainly is not, which is greatly covered by manhwa.

Liking Johan is as easy as breathing. He deserves the world. If that character came to life and asked for anything, my card would fall out of the wallet and start hitting the desk all by itself that instant. No questions asked. The end.

While this isn't an attempt to draw parallels between drama and manhwa, I can't help but think why the writers chose their approach of bringing many tremendous changes. There's so much potential in the story and character development, but that's all. It's just the potential. Miho is regressing as a character as drama continues in pt 2, and so is Pan. And all for the sake of recycling an overused love story.

Just don't mess with the original code if it works, ok?

I can't deal with this pairing. Yes, it was cute at first how Miho and Pan interacted in part 1. They made my heart flutter. It's something about Pan's lack of interest and Miho's character portrayal in part 1 along with her fascination with Pan in those very first episodes that made their dynamics charming. Their toxic interaction tickled my imagination, just like everyone else's. Anticipation of possible romance between these two fit in there perfectly. However, actually going a step further in a way it was executed (in ep 10) feels inconsistent with the previous events.

Can't we have yearning and bond as deep as the sea that isn't romantic? Because their bond was pretty special. She actually needed him to protect her from lust demons. She was desperate at this point. It was either she dies or she hires a "killer" to protect her.

What's wrong with "I'm a half-demon and would kill you but you pay me well so I'm not going to" or "I promised not to let those demons harm you and that alone is the reason I am there for you, don't be fooled". Can't we have a human falling for a half-demon who's been out of touch with his humanity for so long that he doesn't even take Miho's feelings (in development) seriously?

It didn't felt right when Pan pushed Miho's head into the desk in part 1, but something about Miho reaching out to him nonetheless makes all the difference here. That's the point. That's them.

Couldn't writers work more on that toxicity, since that's how their relationship started in the first place? Somehow we got damsel in distress and knight in a shining armor instead, even for a brief moment in ep 10. I love a good romance but the drastic shift from their original selves doesn't sit right with me. Characters went from 2.0 to beta-testing mode.

Appealing to the masses just doesn't seem like a suitable explanation anymore. Someone who is only getting familiar with Island through watching the drama will almost certainly get awfully confused before disappointment hits them, let's keep it real. Wrapping up is rather clumsy and episodes leave impression as if different crews worked separately on filming. Making one slow burner episode in a 12 episode challenge is something most would frown upon. Making more than one slow burner episode while not resolving so many important issues most definitely won't sit right with the audience. Well, it's done. Whether we like it or not.

Then there's Gungtan, a whole mess of a character. Beautiful. Tragic. Broken. Beyond repair. But only on the surface.

While the old manhwa has John in the position of writer's personal punching bag, in drama that special place is reserved for both Pan and Gungtan. Gungtan appears in the remake of manhwa for the first time and his purpose there is killing Pan, apparently. That's as far as I've got, which is really not even half-way through. In drama, however, writers put him through hell and back, for the sake of creating a generic super-villain. It's been implied that his purpose is killing Wonjeong/Miho, but something doesn't feel right about this. Again.

My what will be what now? Honey, can we talk about this? You know I want only what's best for you. Let's have some nice warm tea, I've even baked you your favourite cookies. Let's take a shower, put on some fresh clothes and then we can go to the park and have a little picnic out in the sun. Come on now.

Writers, why couldn't you make a choice on time and stick to it? Why would anyone appreciate this poor and hurried attempt of vilifying? Are we building a complex character who is also a villain? Are we adding some very realistic depths to his character and making him look more human? Or are we making a simple cold-blooded murderer without a proper backstory because there is simply no humanity in him to begin with and therefore this whole narration is useless? What the hell are we doing? We can't do both at once. Because I'm pretty sure accidentally turning him into an actual protagonist of the show in few easy steps cannot be "fixed" by a (useless/pointless) shocking mass murder, preceded by lovey-dovey fabrication pulled out of thin air. Only to bring him back to factory settings from part 1 all over again. I'm taking it as screenwriter's cry for help, nothing more and nothing less. Did that second mass murder even happen? Not in my head it didn't.

Fear of the audience favorizing Gungtan, murderer of the whole religious sect of child abusers, over a forced cliché beauty and a beast love story, between a damsel in distress and a morally enlightened demon-slayer who is half demon himself, is very real. God forbid that happens, of course. Well, it's happening anyways and no cheap trick will stop it. He stole the show, it's done.

We. Love. Gungtan.

May the babygirlification begin. Starting sequence in 3, 2, 1

Leaving manhwa aside, the series had a huge potential to go in so many different directions, without even following original plotline. That's exactly what happened, it went into too many different directions at the same time and ended up being a huge mess difficult to clean up and wrap up. The only thing that makes me cling to it is the genre it represents and what's left of main characters, as each of them has their own well distinguishable charm. I'm loving the series, despite what it turned into.

It's like putting on every piece of clothing you ever looked good in, all at once, at the same time, because, well, you think you'll look even better. And it doesn't work that way. Or buying all the finest ingredients you could find and thinking it will make the food taste heavenly but instead you've got served Rachel Green’s Thanksgiving Trifle, so what do we do now?

All in all, it's easy to conclude even writers got lost in redefining already well defined plotlines, so nobody truly knows what is going on and why. Formulas for success got mixed up pretty badly. Even without taking manhwa in consideration, there's that bitter-sweet taste. Nothing is clear and everything's been mushed. It takes some time for impressions to set, but as time goes by, the less I am happy with the final result.

It's gonna be better next time. Hwaiting!

Pluto's out

#island kdrama #island manhwa #island webtoon #island 2022 #island 2023 #kdrama #tving island #아일랜드

[inventors-fair]

Preferential Treatment: Partial Decree Commentary

Back again for the commentary! This week was such a blast, honestly. You all made killer designs, and while this is certainly not a contest I’ll run very often, it did give me lots of new ideas for other contests, so stay tuned. It is interesting that people heavily focused on the copying aspects, when I honestly wouldn’t even say that’s my absolute favorite part of magic. I’m curious to hear thought processes behind these designs, so if anyone wants to share how they came up with their idea, I would love to hear about it. Anyways, here’s Wonderwall.

The Tattered Timepiece by @dabudder

At first glance, this is an incredibly cool card. I love the idea of repeatedly taking extra turns but losing a bit of each one, essentially leaving you with nothing by the end of it. You have to use it very carefully, but the concept is cool. However... it runs into some logistical issues. First off, skipping your end phase also involves skipping your cleanup, which is not something black-border magic ever wants to get into, since “Until end of turn” effects would stick around, and damage wouldn’t be removed. In addition, There are cards that skip either untap, upkeep, or draw steps, but not all of them all at once. I think this design would be better serviced by looking at existing “skip step or phase” cards like Fatespinner, and picking some appropriate choices from among those. However, the logistics issues don’t detract from the fact that this is still as super cool card.

Absolute Decree by @nicolbolas96

One of our few non-blue cards this week (I was going to ask if I’m that easy to figure out, but I guess it is literally in my username). I do like flexibility with removal, and I do like political maneuvering, and this has a good amount of both of those! However, I just can’t see any situation in which your opponent ever lets you copy the spell. I understand that the intention was probably “Hey, if you let me copy it, I’ll blow up this other thing controlled by player 3”, but... I’m not sure there would be many people likely to agree with that when the original copy is pointing at one of their permanents. I’m not necessarily sure what the fix is, but this card relies on blowing up someone’s key piece, and then asking them nicely for a favor, which doesn’t seem like it will go the way you want it to 90% of the time.

Nadan, Dean of Imitation by @yd12k

Okay, so between the name, the art, and the flavor text, I’m a little confused. Is this supposed to be a different iteration of Naban, but was a typo? Is it Naban’s evil twin? A parody? I definitely appreciate the pandering to the judge, but I’m confused about who exactly this is supposed to represent. The ability is one that I’m honestly surprised we haven’t seen before, though it feels more at home on a mid-cost enchantment than a 2-mana legendary creature. There could still be lots of fun things to do with it, but I think the potential card advantage is way too much for this to be coming out of the command zone on turn two. However, bonus brownie points for playing to the audience.

Unseelie Meddling by @hiygamer

There’s a reason I have Mystic Reflection listed as my favorite blue card, and this plays in a lot of the same space. I do like the attempt to broaden it from just creatures, but as others have stated, this gets into some weirdness with auras that can make this “destroy target nonland permanent” in certain scenarios, which... yeah, that unfortunately needs some black to justify. Equally unfortunately, the workaround is clunky, so at least you stuck to your guns. Beyond that issue, I like this card, though I feel like 3 mana might be too expensive for something that doesn’t give you any nice ETB triggers, and only lasts for the turn. I think it could have either been cheaper or more permanent, though with the latter there’s obviously memory issues. Also, WOW that’s some dark art direction. I love it, reminds me of some of the older magic art.

Hysteric Laughter by @col-seaker-of-the-memiest-legion

It is interesting that we got so much Cipher this week, considering... I don’t actually care for it that much. Yes, I like instants and sorceries, and I love copying them, but Cipher always felt like there were too many moving parts for my liking. This one is pretty good at addressing some of my issues with it- it’s simple, effective, and easy to tack on to any creature without making them a huge magnet for removal. However, over time, that card advantage can really add up. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying this should cost 4 mana like Last Thoughts, but I’m not totally sure if 1 mana is the right place for this either, especially since an evasive one-drop into one of these is two cards right away, and that multiplies if you have more copies. Cipher as a Maestros mechanic is also interesting- obviously they like copying instants and sorceries, but it doesn’t seem to me that they would match with the skulking, cryptic flavor of Cipher. They seem pretty loud and proud. However, like I said before, you’ve done a good job of making me reconsider Cipher, so that in and of itself is a commendation.

Quell, the Living Storm by @helloijustreadyourpost

This card is a very interesting cross-section between Elemental tribal and spellslinger, which I don’t think is something we’ve seen before? The power buff not only makes it so that you can swing with these guys pretty hard, but also enables the casualty ability, which is some neat self-synergy. This guy clearly wants to be a commander, I’m just having a hard time picturing what you would want in the deck. Elementals obviously, but what kind of instants and sorceries? The red ones that make more temporary elementals, I guess? Don’t get me wrong, this is a cool card, and could definitely see print, but it’s a bit too linear for my tastes. There are some hints of Ball Lightning tribal in here, which could have been really cool if you doubled down on that a bit more? I dunno. However, big bonus points for being the first custom card designer ever to put “storm” in the name of a card that has nothing to do with Storm.

Mirageherd Matriarch by @pocketvikings

Noncreature/ small creature token payoff. Iiiiinteresting.... I like it. There’s some obvious parallels here between this and Poppet Stitcher/ Poppet Factory, but obviously it has a bit of a different intended use. I’m not totally sure I get the flavor of how an elephant turns Treasures and Clues into other elephants? Some flavor text definitely could have helped here. Also, the repeatable investigate does make for some nice creature sac fodder, but in a deck with literally any other token generation, it would never happen. Maybe it could be something like “if you didn’t create a token this turn”? Anyways, lots of cool shenanigans to be done with this, especially since there are some noncreature tokens you can make for pretty cheap rates, but I think it straddles the right power level.

Throk, Prismari Alumnus by @snugz

I had to do a double take at this card because I thought it was full hybrid for a second, which would have been a bit pie-breaky, but this is styled after the strixhaven cycle, so all good there. However, for future reference, those cards do use a gold frame to avoid confusion. Onto the mechanics- mass granting your spells Cipher for just 4 mana seems very very strong. Cipher cards, though a bit overly cautious, were costed as much more expensive than their non-Cipher counterparts, because you get to repeat them several times without having to spend cards each time. Add that to the natural evasion granted by ciphering cards, and you have one heck of a powerhouse for 4 mana. It’s still a really cool idea, but it needs some limits on it to make it work nicer. Maybe the first spell each turn has Cipher? Or you pay N as you cast it to gain Cipher? There’s options here, but I do think it needs to be toned down a bit.

Well of Discordance by @hypexion

This card went through some pretty major iterations in the Discord, and there were some solid ideas throughout the process. I do like where this card started. However, this would just be an absolute mess of triggers- essentially, untapping with this would turn a commander game into a 40+ minute game of solitaire as you debate whether or not you have enough mana to continue the cascade chain or not. My issue isn’t the power level, per se- I think as a 6-mana legendary artifact that costs an extra one per spell, it’s in a good spot. I just think there’s too much decision paralysis that comes along with it. Additionally, I can also see this confusing some players who think there’s a period between seeing what you get off the cascade trigger and casting it. That happens immediately, though, so you have to grant cascade blindly. All in all, it’s a neat card, but very complex and not fun to play against.

Gossamer Twin by @nine-effing-hells

“Clone with downside” is always a bit of a fun concept to play around with, though it’s hard to beat Phantasmal Image. Making it more vulnerable to damage but not necessarily to spot removal is a cool take on it, and I do like the flavor of some sort of miniature thread-like copy of something much larger. However, there’s not much to it beyond that. The card feels very plain, and not too exciting. Maybe if it overlaid flying in addition to the abilities of the copied creature? I think flavor text helps sell this too, since Gossamer twin is such a cool, evocative name that is begging for some contextualization. It’s a clever card, and definitely one that tickles my fancy, but I don’t see myself having fun playing this one.

The Bolstering Matrix by @dimestoretajic

That sure is an effect that’s a dream come true for anyone who likes cloning and copying. Obviously, I love this effect. It’s great, and I would love to build around it. However, it’s hard not to compare this to my main man Riku of Two Reflections. For the same mana value, you get the same effect- except you have to pay two mana every time you use it, and its stapled onto a fragile 2/2 instead of a harder-to-remove enchantment. This definitely needs to either be more expensive (in which case you’ll have likely played all your good creatures before this comes down) or have some sort of other limitation (creature type? Mana value? Paying mana like Riku?). The second ability is the cherry on top- I do like that one quite a bit better, and it’s a nice complement to the other one. However, the power level of this needs to be adjusted before I can truly love it.

Bankshot Technique by @deg99

You said “Hypothetical 2-headed Giant set on Strixhaven themed around Mage Tower”, and I fell in love. You went into my brain and pulled out a set that I literally want more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. And the card is neat! It’s just not the best proof-of-concept for this amazing set idea. Moving counters is solid- feels like a Quandrix-y thing to do, and it’s established as a possible UG hybrid effect (even though this is also a gold card like the Cipher legend above), and the team reference is neat. I do wonder if there’s a way to clean it up, but that’s not my main problem. I just don’t see demonstrate working in a 2HG set, since so many people would assume they can give their teammate a copy to get two copies themselves. It just works against the concept of 2HG, which is unfortunate, cause the concept is cool. Also, this seems like a rough card to have 3 copies on the stack of- counters would just get madly shuffled around and doubled like crazy, and math would be hard. The name even implies it wants to be an instant-speed combat trick, but that would make it even more painfully complex, so I don’t know what direction this card is pulling in.

Derivative Subversion by @reaperfromtheabyss

...How is this not a card again? Copying and countering spells are costed pretty much the same, and making it modal just makes sense. The entwine is a nice touch. I will say that, even though we can copy permanent spells now, not every copy spell has to be able to do that, and this card feels like it should just copy instants/sorceries. It would ruin the symmetry with the counter half, but still. Also, I’m not sure what the name is getting at? Like, those are just fancy words for “copy” and “interfere with”, so I get how they match up to the modes, but I don’t get what it means in-world. Flavor text? AD? Something to give more context, even if it’s “snarky blue mage quote”.

The Halls of Maurer Estate by @wolkemesser

So this card is cool, but... it’s red. Red red red, all the way. Attack trigger? Red. Temporary tokens? Red. I’m not feeling the esper here at all, except maybe from the name and art. Speaking of which- the “haunted mirror” thing is cool as hell, and I wish the card leaned into that more mechanically, because wow, that’s such a neat idea for a card. I do wonder though, was this card intended to copy *every* attacking creature? As is, you not only double your own board when you attack, but (apart from corner cases) you get a 1:1 copy to block every single creature coming at you. That makes this a HUGE value card for ETB/value decks, while also being a nigh-impassable pillowfort, unless the opponent has huge tramplers or straight unblockable stuff. I do like where you were going with this card, but the concept needed some adjustments.

Chiwit, the Living Leyline by @i-am-the-one-who-wololoes​

I’ll admit, this is definitely a different direction from most of the cards this week, and I like where it starts. Rewarding you for manipulating your mana generators to individually produce multiple mana would make for a super cool deck. However, I wish it had a more exciting reward than “draw a card”. Also, this gets really fuzzy when you look at the limitations. What counts as a single source? Is Dawn’s Reflection separate from the land it enchants? What is the “source” of mana? (Hint: it’s not the obvious answer)? What’s the difference between Nyxbloom Ancient and Caged Sun? These questions all have answers, but they aren’t exactly intuitive. I understand wanting to be inclusive of ritual spells, but there’s a reason most effects are phrased with regards to “tapping permanents for mana”. This is such a cool idea, too, it just lost some stuff on the execution.

That’s that for this week! Have fun with the current contest, and I’ll see you all again soon!

~judge @naban-dean-of-irritation​

#mtg #magic the gathering #custom Magic card #Inventor's Fair #partial decree #commentary

[lazyrabbit755]

Ok so I finished Wednesday...

So first of all I wanna start by saying I really liked the series. I'm gonna go into detail about what I liked and didn't like and what I want to see improved in later seasons (assuming there are any). But overall no matter my criticisms overall I really liked the show as a whole! You might be asking yourself why I'm not just writing a review on IMDB or something? To which my reasoning is that this is my little blog and I am going to exercise my right to rant about my stupid little obsessions on the internet as much as I want!

Just a heads up I am going to go into spoilers so I would highly encourage you to watch the show first and come to your own decisions before reading what some rando on the internet has to say about it. Now with that out of the way, let's get into it...

The Good:

Obviously the art direction is great, I mean it's Tim Burton directing an Addams Family reboot, that's a match made in heaven! The characters were wonderful, I honestly think they carried the show imo. Eugene and Thing were some standouts to me although of course Bianca, Enid and Wednesday were my favorites. I just really feel like Eugene was like the MVP and like was consistently one of the nicest characters both to Wednesday and the other characters (although the scene where he barfs all over the pilgrim bullies was kinda dated, really felt like I was watching an early 2000s movie making fat jokes in poor taste) The music score was lovely it really sold the whole "Goth Girl Hogwarts" vibe which I don't mean as a jab towards Goths cause I'm obviously here for that or I wouldn't be writing about this show.

The not so good:

Tbh the whole teen romance subplot wasn't doing it for me. I mean I get why they wrote it in but it felt kinda forced at times ngl. Like having Wednesday go back and forth between Tyler and Xavier, (the two most boring "straight guy" names of all time btw) after a while it felt like writers ran out of excuses on why Wednesday would be leaving one of the boys hanging while pursuing the other. Yes a lot of people have complained about how boring in general Xavier and Tyler were as characters and I agree! You had on one had an artsy loner boyfriend who has psychic abilities and the power to LITERALLY MAKE HIS DRAWINGS COME TO LIFE and they managed to make him uninteresting and kinda unlikable (that last one being more subjective to myself but you get the point). And on the other hand a literal serial killer boyfriend who turns into a 10ft tall monster with a mommy kink. And like just saying the whole idea that Laurel controls Tyler because she told him the truth about his mother also being a Hyde was kinda weak. Like just say the kid has mommy issues!

In all honesty the main gripe that I have with the show is actually about Wednesday herself. She didn't really get that much character development throughout the season. YES her relationship with Enid was very cute and I love Enid...BUT...the show even acknowledges that Wednesday is kinda a jerk to her friends. Enid straight up tells her to her face that she doesn't like the way she treats her, bringing her along to dangerous investigations and tricking her with the promise of a girls night out. And before we knew that Tyler was the real killer he was in the same boat. I mean she leads him on prioritizing herself first and her investigation and uses him to get what she wants. Same with Xavier who REALLY got the short end of the stick getting PUT IN FUCKING JAIL (even if it was only for a night or so). It felt like towards the second half of the season that Wednesday was going through a series of selfish decisions and having characters highlight them to her face so that she could reflect on her bad actions and grow as a character. But instead of giving us that payoff she literally doesn't grow OR APOLOGIZE to basically anyone! And when she does apologize it's weak as hell! Instead most of the characters she treats like crap come to her and apologize or attempt to rekindle their relationship. I MEAN FOR GOD'S SAKE Enid literally tells Wednesday TO HER FACE, that she is the one making most of the effort in their friendship and instead of apologizing, Wednesday just tells her she doesn't need friends and that she's a gigachad alpha. And Enid just comes back like an episode later and has a change of heart. And her "apology" to Xavier was just pathetic. He just sorta forgave her for everything after being justifiably pissed the fuck off at her for ruining his life and then suddenly forgives her for everything because she took an arrow to the shoulder for him.

Like it feels like the writers ran out of time or something, like they wanted her relationship with Enid and the other characters to have more depth. Like most of the other side characters have at least decent character development arcs, like Enid and Bianca standing up to their Mothers. The thing is I like Wednesday as a character, contrary to what you might have just read I want to root for her! But the writers made it a bit hard towards the end. I know they wanted to sell the whole Goth girl, raven from teen titans, attitude but it's ok guys you can make her a little more likable.

Conclusions:

You may think that I have been a bit harsh or nitpicky about the show. Or perhaps you're thinking "Why the hell did this loser nobody write several paragraphs about some dumb teen drama Netflix show" to which my response is why are you still reading? YES I'm probably a bit harsh on this series or nitpicky but that's because I like it so much! When something that you enjoy is so close to being "perfect" (or at least really well done) it's all the more disappointing when it just barely falls short. If your favorite sports team loses by one point right before the final whistle you're even more crushed that you would've been if they had lost by 8 points.

To conclude despite the cheesy teen romance plot lines and boring ass love interests, I enjoyed my time with this show and if there are more seasons to come (which it's looking like there will be considering the success of the show) I want to see the show do better and improve upon it's previous seasons.

If you read all that borderline incomprehensible word vomit here's a gold star 🌟 you deserve it. 👍 And hey, Thanks for stopping by! I hope you have a great rest of your day/night and if you watched the show lemme know if you agreed with some stuff I said or you think I'm fucking insane for caring so much and writing all this. Either way it's just a show at the end of the day. :)

#wednesday #wednesday spoilers #wednesday series #netflix wednesday #enid sinclair #wednesday addams #the addams family #netflix series #netflix original

[fyrefrostanimus]

Nightmare'd Evans

Even if these designs are nowhere near done (the only two designs of ANY of the Nightmares I have completely sketched are Nightmare Fredbear and Nightmare himself) I might as well post what I have as of Halloween!

So I always thought that Evan (or Chris, as he was known as for the longest time) ended up trapped in nightmare purgatory for some reason. Only when GoldenDuo came along did I really change my mind, but I still really like the idea even though he's my favorite character in FNaF. I guess that if I love a character, I make their life hell.

I already had a self-indulgent AU where the Nightmares stopped messing with him after a while (he no longer had a heartbeat, and that's what mostly got their attention). But I never really considered what would have happened in that context if he'd managed to get close to one of them. Really the little sketch I did of Nightmarionne Evan made me think about that and I decided to at least do the rest of the Nightmares (maybe the Jack-O's in November? still pumpkin pie season then) with that idea with some trivia about each one because I overthink this stuff a lot.

Should be very obvious that these aren't meant as canon. They're goofy little sketches that may end up as part of an AU. Who knows honestly.

There's going to be exposed bone/muscle in some of these and a fair bit of body horror at the end, but I'll put those under a cut since it's a minority compared to the rest.

Nightmare Chica'd Evan

Since I wanted to base Nightmare Chica in general on a velociraptor/vaguely raptor-like dinosaur, I could go absolutely nuts with this design. The main decision for Evan's design based on her was "does he have full hands connected to his arm wings or does he just have a widdle thumb that can't do much or anything?". I ended up settling for the latter because it's just funny to me.

Trivia

Evan can't fly but he sure thought he could at first. He's kinda peeved that he lost access to his fingers but isn't able to fly but he's at least figured out how to pick up a crayon and draw.

Those sharp claws on his feets can do serious damage so don't piss him off or scare him. Luckily he's more apt to bite.

Bouncing off that last point, being like this (like a lot of the other Nightmare'd designs) affects his fight-or-flight response. Here, Evan's more likely to defend himself with a bite before recoiling and asking himself what he just did.

Nightmare Bonnie'd Evan

I've always been iffy on the basic design for Nightmare Bonnie in general, since unlike the others there's no real inspiration you can draw from. There's Monty Python and the Holy Grail's killer rabbit, but he already has the personality and I wanted to keep the canon color scheme. The problem wasn't Evan's design but just Bonnie's.

Trivia

Evan can jump pretty high/far with the rabbit legs, so he can get around fast. You'd lose track of him easy and that's how he'll manage to spook you.

He will hear you coming. Don't even attempt to sneak up behind him because those radar dishes on his head will pick up on where you are and he'll look.

He has funny little fangies that often stick out of the corners of his mouth since they're too big to hide completely while also being comfortable for him.

Evan's much more likely to kick. With how strong his legs are it could break a bone if it hits the right spot. (He's basically a kangaroo)

Nightmare Freddy'd Evan

Not much to say here except that this would probably be the 2nd/3rd most easy Nightmare'd version for Evan to access. If he cuddles up with the Freddles enough he's pretty much just another of them.

Trivia

The tiny bear poof tail Evan has does wag when he's happy but you can only see it from behind.

Evan's main response to fear remains to curl up into a ball and cry. The difference is that you now have to deal with the papa bear.

Nightmare Fredbear'd Evan

The first complete sketch of the group! Another that would be pretty easy for Evan to access (mainly because these two are pretty closely connected with Nightmare Fredbear coming from Evan's fear of Fredbear). I kept Nightmare Fredbear's design close to canon, since I really liked most of the elements of his design and thought they made sense.

Trivia

Evan is really uncomfortable the mouth on his stomach. It doesn't do much, but he probably finds some way to tape it shut so he doesn't have to think about it.

His neck fluff is nice and warm, at least that's a plus.

Evan doesn't really have much of a fear response like this. He may jump a bit, but it's not something big like the other Nightmare'ds.

Nightmare'd Evan

How would Evan even get to this point, to be honest? Design-wise, I decided that Nightmare as a representation of death from the Bite of '83 was a good basis, but I'm not much of a fan of the semi-transparency with a brain inside. It's a cool detail but it's not my cup of tea. But since I can make my own design, I went for a tooth-centric idea. Unlike Nightmare Fredbear, Nightmare doesn't have an extra mouth: he just has a lot of teeth growing out of him like horns, spikes, or sometimes even armor. The head teeth specifically resemble a crown for the heck of it.

Trivia

Evan's little tooth crown is made up of basically baby teeth! If he were still aging they would probably fall out and grow bigger full-size ones, but that's not happening. Only the canines are actually long enough to show through his fluffy hair.

He has longer claws than the other Nightmare'ds, not counting Foxy's hook-claws.

He has two rows of teeth. It's definitely hard to see but they're there and they're still pretty sharp despite being smaller.

Evan defaults to intimidation in this design. He's a little to small to accomplish that, but he tries and that's what matters.

And now we're onto the one with exposed muscle/bone and body horror. The body horror is lower down, but both have the formerly mentioned anatomical attributes.

Nightmare Foxy'd Evan

You know how Nightmare Freddy and Nightmare Fredbear are tied/undecided on 2nd/3rd place? First place of easiest to access actually goes to Nightmare Foxy. Headcanon in this case is that so much of Nightmare Foxy's behavior comes from being jumpscared by an actual person that he feels compassion to a degree, so there's your explanation. Only other addition is that Nm. Foxy's eye covering is torn bedsheets.

Trivia

Evan has slightly longer claws on the hand where Nightmare Foxy's hook is than on the other hand.

He has catlike pupils that contract into slits when you shine a light into them suddenly. He hates sudden bright flashes since it screws up his vision for a bit afterwards.

The lack of skin around his mouth and only having the muscles needed to open and close his jaws makes him really bad at showing facial expressions (His remaining eye can still squint/close). Just look at the ears and tail to tell: he's like a dog.

He got the long tongue and has managed to stick it in his nose hole once. He hasn't done that since getting weird looks from everyone around him.

Evan's more likely to run like this. It's in Foxy's general nature to run around, so he probably has high energy (he'd love playing tag if anyone would end up visiting).

Nightmare Mangle'd Evan

It's body horror time again, folks! I guess getting bold for day 27 of Apoctober and attempting three heads paid off, since it makes drawing two easier. I knew I wanted Nightmare Mangle's design in general to look plain wrong. Mangle got screwed up in Kid's Cove, so why would the nightmare realistic version look any sort of normal? The heads aren't "one fox and one endo" but I thought the funhouse mirror/old circus freakshow idea fit the rather bright white-and-pink color better than anything else here.

Trivia

Evan definitely hates this Nightmare'd version the most. Sure, he doesn't like having a mouth on his stomach when he's Nightmare Fredbear'd, but a mouth that doesn't really do anything is way better than a whole other head that's essentially a younger brother attached to his body (on other terms, he's starting to understand why Michael didn't like being stuck watching him all day every day). And we haven't talked about the awkward way one of his legs splits at the knee (at least I think it's the knee but it's digitigrade legs and I can't quite tell), resulting in two other legs: one under his control, and the other under control of his other head. Plus the third arm pokes him in the face a lot and he can't actually stop it from trying.

His shirt actually rips when he ends up in this form, although if he were to switch to any other form somehow it would mend (ghost logic).

If you thought Nightmare Foxy'd Evan was bad at facial expressions, now he can't even blink so you have to rely on just body language to tell how he's feeling if he doesn't tell you.

If scared, Evan will just freeze and shiver like a chihuahua. He can't run as well, so maybe you won't see him if he doesn't move?

TL;DR please help him he wants some cuddles

If you have any questions about these, please ask. I'd love to talk about them or put them in silly situations (or just draw them in general).

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #evan afton #tw body horror #tw bones #halloween #if you have a question about these guys please ask i'm going to feel a deep internal urge to draw all of them #plus i wanna see if i can draw based off of prompts so if you've got something go ahead #might color these later once they're finalized #nightmare'd evan

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

Yuri!! The drawing of Nightmare in maid dress is so good! (≧▽≦) and I think all three of them suits this song XD

How's your day going? Hope you have a wonderful day (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

aahh- thank u so much solia! it means a lot x)

also

i don’t know what’s worse, the fact that the song absolutely fits them ((especially killer)) or that this is what you thought about when you saw the three gremlins

tagging the simps @help-im-a-gay-fish @jann-the-bean because we gotta admit he is self aware

the pose took so long but hey, made my day better ;D

thanks again solia! the compliments mean a lot<3

#ask #my art #art #fluffynightkiller #killer #killer sans #killer!sans #maid dress #did i draw killer because he's the cockiest of them all? yes #did i also forget about night's design and was too lazy to check? yes #did i purposefully avoid ccino because his maid design is complicated as hell? yes #do i just simp for killer more? obviously a YES #honestly what i liked the more about my first attempt at drawing them is killer's whole energy #a small cute confident gremlin #i should try making him cuter rather than what i've been...trying to do? #anyways #i didn't want to bother people with tagging but maybe #should i tag zu? i dunno #all that i know is that i need to sleep 'cuz it's one am rn i'm tired #thank uuu<3

[malarki]

Harry Potter FanFiction I greatly enjoy (it’s just tomarry and sevitus)

Fair warning, I’m not good at describing stuff, and most of these are not complete (yet) but if you have similar tastes as I do then you’ll definitely like these stories.

Meddling of a Mischief Maker - by Athy

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5380535/chapters/12427268

I enjoy this fic because it shows a more human Voldemort with him still being an asshole as per usual. They do a good job of having Voldemort believably change into a not crazy murderous bastard haha. It also has Sirius interacting with Voldemort and for some reason I find those scenes hilarious in any fic I read.

“Harry's being a horcrux is a bit reworked here in this AU Story set during the summer after 5th year. A Mischief Maker intervenes in the Ministry during Voldemort and Dumbledore's duel, changing the course history. MorallyGrey!Dumbledore, Sirius, Restored Souls, HP/TR”

Draw Me After You (Let Us Run) - by ToAStranger @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22327684/chapters/53334382

This story is a delight, it’s tone is very good and they do a great job of writing in the characters ‘voices’ for their pov’s. I especially like the posh way Voldemort talks and acts. This story is also hilarious on top of just being a very good slowburn, AND it has Sirius, which as you might have guessed, I love dearly. They also don’t bash any of the characters, and instead make them well rounded but flawed individuals, which I really appreciate.

“Harry Potter,” comes the soft, sibilant hiss of a voice he has heard in his dreams, in his nightmares, in his waking hours for years.

Slowly, carefully, Harry twists over and pushes up onto his hands and knees. He stays there, short breath fogging in front of his face, and his pursuer lets him. Harry has no doubt of that; he’s being allowed this respite. This small moment to catch his bearings, heart pounding in his ears, blood singing.

“It seems I have finally caught you.”

Consuming Shadows - by Child_OTKW @childotkw

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7040089/chapters/16011331

I’ve read two of childOTKW’s fics and both of them are fantastically written and attention grabbing stories. This one was the first one I read, and it has a very interesting take on lily Potter (one which I really enjoy) and the plot can leave you on the edge of your seat at times. The characterization is great, and the process of Harry and Tom getting to know each other is done very well.

“His attention skipped passed the students and moved to the politicians’ pavilion. His gaze locked with crimson, and he nearly faltered under the sheer hunger in those eyes.

It unnerved him how fixated the man was on his dirtied, exhausted figure.

But what troubled him more was the slight smirk he could make out on the man’s lips. It was almost pleased.

On the night of the attack, Lily managed to escape with her infant son, but at the cost of her husband’s life. Distraught and distrusting of her friends, she fled to France with Harry, to raise him away from the corruption in Britain and the rising influence of the Dark Lord. She trains him to the best of her abilities, shaping him into a dangerous, intelligent and powerful wizard.

But when Britain re-establishes the Triwizard Tournament, and Harry is forced to return to his once-home, he finds himself questioning whether he really wants to kill the Dark Lord. Voldemort finds an unexpected challenge in the child, and as his intrigue and amusement grows, so too does the desire to possess the spark in those defiant green eyes.”

A story that is kind of similar but not really: The Train to Nowhere

You Belong To Me (I Belong To You) - by child_OTKW

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11270490/chapters/25203408

This is a story inspired by the manwha ‘At The End Of The Road’ by Haribo. A comic I read before reading this, which is very good I recommend it. They do not take the exact plot from the comic though, obviously changing significant details for it to work properly as a Tomarry Fic, but one main thing stays the same, which is that this is a body swap. Honestly I really enjoy childOTKW’s works, and this is no exception. The characterization is wonderful as always, and Harry is Fantastic. Plus I’ve always been a fan of time travel fics. (Fair warning this is another slow burn and Harry centric)

“What I find absolutely fascinating,” Riddle said, stalking closer, “is you.” He marched forward, backing Harry up until he was pinned to the cool wall of the common room. “Do you know why?”

“No. And I’ll be honest here, Riddle, I don’t particularly care.”

The taller boy grinned at him, small yet infinitely pleased. “That. Right there.” One hand rose and brushed some of Harry’s fringe from his face. “Nathan Ciro was a spineless little boy too afraid of his own shadow to dare even glance in my direction. But you…”

He leaned closer, “You look at me like you want to stab me.”

“After an accident, Auror Harry Potter wakes up in the body of fourteen year old Nathan Ciro, a tormented Slytherin who recently tried to end his own life. Seeking answers to his strange predicament, Harry returns to Hogwarts, and causes quite the stir through staff and students - especially when they come to realise he is not the same boy as before.

He tries to avoid suspicion, but as his quest for the truth draws more and more attention to him, Harry begins to think that he might not like what he will discover.”

Some Bonus AU tomarry

A Thousand Paths Among The Stars - by Haplessshippo @haplesshippo

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12015060/chapters/27191238

This is a star trek au and it’s honestly my favorite tomarry au fic. Granted, I am a huge sci-fi fan. There’s also a bit of a twist at the end, or at least it surprised me, due to the way we usually expect tomarry plots to go.

“Harry Potter, newly appointed Captain of the Marauder and son of the famous Captain James Potter, was falling apart at the seams. His crew didn’t respect him, he was lost in the empty expanse of space, nightmares plagued his sleep, and his Commander deserved the Captain position more than he did. Good thing multiple attempts on his life and a vicious warlord after his head was all it took to turn it all around.

Alternatively, that space fic in which Harry Potter almost dies too many times, Tom Riddle slowly becomes the most smitten fool on the ship, and the rest of the crew are all just a bunch of assholes with popcorn watching the show. And exploding ships, don't forget the exploding ships.”

The Matchmaker - by TanninTele

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16507676/chapters/38664089

I am ALSO a huge true crime fan, and this story has a criminal that kinda reminds me of one that might appear in Hannibal (but with less murder). I enjoy the characterization, though tom is pretty tame in this compared to more cannon fics, considering he’s not the criminal and instead an investigator. Harry is also different from how people usually portray him, but I still like it.

“'The Matchmaker' is a serial abductor whose modus operandi consists of pairing two same-sex individuals together in a coffin, six feet underground - buried alive. He isn't a killer. He's a kidnapper with morals, and Detective Chief Inspector Tom Riddle finds himself obsessed with solving the case.

Unfortunately for Tom, the Matchmaker is just as intent on knowing him.”

And on to the Sevitus Stories

Far Beyond A Promise Kept - by oliversnape

https://archiveofourown.org/works/547431/chapters/974693

A classic, Harry stays with snape and unintentionally proves all his assumptions wrong and makes snape care about him. Both the stories have this aspect, but this one has snape a bit nicer from the get go. Probably because it takes place during the third book, so they’ve only known each other two years. It’s quite wholesome though, and I rather enjoy the progression of their relationship.

“Snape never wanted anyone to know of his promise to Dumbledore, but has realised that he can protect Potter much better by taking a less passive role in the boy's training. Actually liking Harry Potter has never been part of his plan. mentor/guardian.”

Crime And Punishment - by melolcatsi

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102232/chapters/58018174

Snape and Harry have way more of a rocky start in this one, and Snape having to pick Harry up from the police station Really Doesn’t Help Snape’s opinion of him. This story very realistically shows the progression of their relationship, going from enemies to family, and near the ‘end’ (it’s not finished) it becomes very wholesome with Snape trying to help Harry with his mental and physical health after years of abuse/ neglect.

“Harry is accused of burglary. The Dursleys leave him to rot. Dumbledore sends Snape to remedy the situation. Harry finds himself in the care of an irate Snape. Not slash, gen-fic w/ focus on Sevitus relationship. Angst galore. Warnings: coarse and suggestive language, mentions of abuse/neglect. Un-betaed and un-Britpicked.”

#tomarry #tom riddle #harry potter #sevitus #severus snape #fanfic #fanfic reccomendation #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #tom riddle x harry potter

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 16 - Bloody City [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.

Word Count: 3000

Summary: Threats come closer. 

The room was so silent that you could swear even your heartbeat was audible. You tried to think through the panic running through your veins, but it was nearly impossible.

He wasn’t supposed to find out about that.  

You weren’t a profiler, but you didn’t need to be one to understand how betrayed he felt at the moment. He looked completely frozen, his sharp glare giving you goosebumps.

He had never looked at you like that before, and the anger in his eyes was more than enough to pin you to your spot.

“Spencer,” you managed you say, your voice way too weak, “I can explain.”

Silence.

“I didn’t—“ you stammered, “I didn’t read it. I would never.”

He just kept his gaze on you, raising his brows as if he didn’t believe a word you said and you wetted your lips.

“Where did you find it?”

That managed to draw a reaction from him, at least. He scoffed a dry laugh, shaking his head.

“That’s what you’re asking me right now?” he asked, “It was under the magazines on the coffee table, I thought it was one of mine.”

You cursed under your breath, closing your eyes for a moment. Of course your mother would put it there for you to take a look at it in case you wanted to.

“So?” he said, nodding at the folder lying on the kitchen island, “Do you want to tell me why you have a file on me?”

“It’s not mine.”

The bitter smile on his face was almost amused at your pathetic attempt, and it hit you right at that moment, there was no way you could talk your way out of this. This was what he did for a living, and he could tear your whole list of excuses apart, picking holes in it one by one.

“Try again.”

So people felt exactly like this when he was interrogating them. It was like his whole personality had just changed right in front of your eyes, and you weren’t even sure that you knew this person standing in front of you.

“I mean,” you swallowed thickly, “Okay, it’s technically mine. But I can explain why I have it.”

“You can?”

You pushed your hair behind your ear, your hands restless for some reason.

“The other day,” you started, “After we…. Well, when you were in Ohio, my mom dropped by. She already has a key and well, you’ve met her, she comes and goes as she pleases. I told her not to numerous times, but—“

“That’s not what I asked.”

You nodded, clearing your throat.

“Right, yeah,” you said, wringing your hands, “Um, she has this P.I.”

“You mean your family has a P.I.?” he corrected you, “Philip, you said? It’s not just your mother who uses him, you told me so yourself.”

You cussed at yourself in your head and bit on your lip, “Yeah. Yeah but he—he usually works for my mother. She’s overprotective, especially after my dad she became quite paranoid with the type of people me and Mina date. Anyways, she came here that morning, and she had this file but I didn’t read it,” you shook your head fervently, “I would never.”

He tilted his head, humoring you, “Oh you didn’t read it?”

“No, of course not—“

“Why did you keep it then?”

“I didn’t keep it,” you said, “I had to leave in a hurry so I left my mom here and I swear to you I told her to throw it away. I thought she did, I didn’t see it before just now. I wouldn’t keep it if I knew—“

“Did you know she was going to do it?” he cut you off as if he wasn’t in the mood to listen to your excuses, “Put a P.I. on me?”

You opened your mouth to say no, then the memory of her saying that at the brunch flashed in your mind, making you shut your eyes for a second before looking up at him.

That was enough of an answer for him.

“You knew?” he asked, barely controlling the fury in his voice, “You knew but you didn’t tell me?”

“She mentioned it in passing but I didn’t take her seriously,” you said quickly, “I didn’t think she would actually do it, that’s why I didn’t tell you!”

He let out a humorless laugh and walked to grab his satchel while you stood there, unable to even breathe right as your heart pounded in your ears.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” he said curtly, “I’ll break your heart if I stay here any longer.”

“Spencer please, we need to talk about it—”

“Talk about it?” he repeated, “Why? So that you can give me more bullshit excuses?”

To that, you honestly had nothing to say.

“I would’ve told you whatever you wanted to know about me,” he said through his teeth, his eyes narrowed, “Because I trust you. That’s the difference between you and me.”

You blinked back the tears, digging your fingernails into your clenched fists.

“Have fun reading that,” he motioned at the file in front of you, then walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Your hand shot up to wipe at your eyes and tugged at the roots of your hair as you slouched against the kitchen island.

“Fuck.”

                                                         ***

The next three days were an absolute disaster. You couldn’t focus on anything, you checked your phone every minute to see whether he had texted you or called you, but there was nothing. You had no idea what you could do to explain yourself, or at least convince him to hear you out, but you decided to wait until he wasn’t as angry. Maybe then, he would be more willing to listen to you and you would have gathered your thoughts together.

That was the logical thing to do and you knew that, but it didn’t help with the situation at all. You had already missed him way too much and the guilt was basically eating you alive.

You should’ve been more careful. You should’ve checked everywhere, you should’ve at least called your mother to make sure if she had thrown it away but you had done none of that because of multiple distractions. Spencer had a point, you knew it was possible, you even knew your mother had done the same thing with Kenzie and yet you had told him nothing about that.

Until it blew up on your face.

There was absolutely no way he would ever trust you again, and you had no one to blame but yourself.

Your fingers were itching to text him, but you every time the urge hit you, you tried to do anything else but that. You concentrated on work, you accepted a new client, you did anything and everything that could stop yourself from thinking about him, but all of that was in vain.

Mina and Kenzie had invited you for dinner and you had accepted it just so that you could distract yourself and feel less terrible. Around nine, Lily had insisted you to be the one to read her a bedtime story, and that kid could ask for a freaking castle and you would get her that, so of course you had said yes.

“And they lived happily ever after,” you finished the story and pressed a kiss into her hair as she snuggled closer to you. “Time to sleep, bug.”

“I have a question.”

“Hm?” you asked, “What is it?”

“Will we all live happily ever after?”

“Oh yeah,” you nodded, “Certainly.”

“Here?”

You tilted your head, “Here? What does that mean?”

“I heard mommy talking to grandma on the phone about you moving to—“ she scrunched up her nose, trying to find the right word, “Ven…?”

“Venice?” you asked and shook your head, “No sweetheart, I’m not moving anywhere.”

“It’s just that,” she looked up at you, “In the stories, they go away sometimes right? I thought since you found your prince—“

“You don’t need someone to live happily ever after Lily,” you said, “And in this case, I don’t need to move somewhere else to live happily ever after. Besides, things are complicated with my prince nowadays.”

“So you’re not moving away?”

“I’m not.”

She gave you a toothless smile, “Yay!” she said, “I would miss you.”

“I’d miss you too bug,” you kissed her hair, “So much. But now that we both know I’m staying here, you need to go to sleep, we had a deal.”

“Fine, fine…” she heaved a dramatic sight and you turned off the lamp by her bed, getting up from the bed. “Good night!”

“Sweet dreams, bug,” you closed the door behind you and made your way to the living room where Mina and Kenzie were still sitting by the table, drinking wine.

“Thank you so much,” Kenzie said and you waved a hand in the air as you sat down.

“Of course,” you said, grabbing your wine glass, “Mina, she asked me if I was moving to Venice.”

Mina frowned, “What?”

“Yeah, she heard you talk to mom on the phone,” you muttered, “Is that still going on? I thought we put that behind us, I’m not leaving.”

She heaved a sigh, “You know how mom gets, she’s just worried.”

“Have you talked to Spencer yet?” Kenzie asked and you took a huge sip of your wine, shrugging your shoulders.

“He knows where I am.”

“I take that as a no.” Kenzie said and you scoffed a bitter laugh.

“If he wants to break up with me, he can pick the time.”

Mina’s head shot up, “Y/N…”

“Come on,” you forced yourself to say and downed your wine before tilting your glass towards Kenzie, “You guys know how it goes. Experience talking.”

Kenzie filled your glass, “Listen, I can tell you right now that finding that out was a shock, yes. I felt betrayed, also yes. But after a couple of days, the anger subsided. When we broke up, it was— it was just my anger calling the shots.”

Mina nodded slowly, “Yeah, and then we talked and solved it.”

“Exactly!” Kenzie snapped her fingers, “Besides, after the first argument… I went to my apartment and after I calmed down I had to question whether I wanted to lose Mina over that.”

You shook your head, “It’s different.”

“How?”

“You weren’t there,” you lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke, “You didn’t see the way how he looked at me after that. Something inside him shifted and I don’t know how to change that, or fix that.”

Mina and Kenzie exchanged glances.

“I don’t think he will ever trust me again,” you managed to say, turning the cigarette between your fingers, “That is if he talks to me again. I think he might just call it quits over the phone to be honest. He doesn’t owe me anything after this point, after what happened.”

“Y/N, I saw you two together even before you started dating,” Mina said, “This is not the end. It’s just some stupid obstacle in the way, that’s it.”

You could feel the tears burning your eyes but you blinked them back.

“I’ve never-” you trailed off, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone, you know? And if I lose this, lose him, I don’t know…” your voice cracked but you cleared your throat and took a sip of your wine again, “I have no idea what to do.”

Kenzie nibbled on her lip,

“You won’t have to, just—“ she started but was cut off when your phone started vibrating on the table. You lowered your glances to check the caller I.D flashing on the screen, then gasped, jumping on your feet.

Spencer.

“Excuse me,” you said and snatched the phone off the table to walk to Mina’s study, your heart slamming against your ribcage. You hoped that it was a good sign that he was calling you, instead of just ending your relationship via text and you closed the door behind you, then answered the phone.

“Hi,” your voice sounded way too squeaky even to your own ears and you shut your eyes for a moment, making a face.

“Hey,” he greeted you and you bit down on your lip, pushing your hair behind your ear as you walked in the study.

“How—um, how are you?”

“I’m good,” he said slowly, “How about you?”

“About the same,” you answered, “I was just thinking about you actually. I wanted to call you, but…”

“But you didn’t?” he asked and you shrugged your shoulders,

“I figured you might need some time away from,” you thought for a moment, trying to smile, “Well, away from me, I guess.”

He fell silent for a moment before he cleared his throat,

“Listen,” he said, “I just called to let you know that we— the team and I, I mean, we’re flying to Illinois in fifteen.”

Your head shot up, “Oh? There’s a new case?”

“Might be related to this one, we will see when we get there,” he said, “I just figured you’d…I don’t know, you’d want to know where I was.”

Even when you were quite possibly in the worst terms, he still wanted to make sure you knew about what was happening and that thought alone was enough to make you smile.

“Yeah absolutely,” you said, “That’s very thoughtful of you. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Sure thing.”

There was a pause before he took a deep breath.

“Anyway, yeah. That’s why I called. I’ll see you later—“

“Spencer,” you interrupted him, “Before you hang up, I want to say that I get why you’re upset, I really do. You have every right to be, but I was hoping…” you bit at your fingernail, “Maybe we can talk after you come back? Would that be possible?”

“Yeah,” he said after a beat, “Sure, that sounds good.”

“Yeah?” you let out a relieved breath, “Okay, great. Be careful out there, please?”

You could almost hear his small smile, “You too,” he said and hung up, making you let out a squeal and you sat down on the couch, pressing a hand over your chest.

You didn’t know it back then, but the next time you would see Spencer, it would be under very, very different circumstances.

And it definitely would not look like what you hoped it would.

                                              ***

Even though Mina and Kenzie insisted you to stay over for the night, you told them you had an important appointment the next morning. It wasn’t a lie either, you had been handling Vincent’s wedding’s possible venues since last week and finally you had narrowed it down to three, so you would be visiting those venues with him and his husband.

But that whole morning started very strange.

For starters, you hadn’t even heard your alarm go off, which was unusual, because that had never happened to you before. By the time you woke up, you had a terrible headache as if someone had hit your head with a baseball bat but you hadn’t even drunk that much last night. It felt way too difficult to even open your eyes, and your limbs felt like they were made of jelly as you forced yourself to sit up in the bed.

Where was your phone?

The wind coming from the open window moved the curtain and you frowned, trying to remember when you had opened the window before a shudder ran down your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck rising.

Spencer would’ve had some scientific explanation for it you were sure, but for you, it went deeper than that. It was your instincts, warning you that something was wrong.

Something in here didn’t feel right.

And every single cell in your body made sure you knew that.

Trying to make as little noise as you could, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, blinking to get rid of the blurriness in your sight and looked around in the room for any potential weapons, then grabbed the nail file on the vanity before you opened the door. You peeked around the hall, but as soon as your gaze fell on the front door, you felt the goosebumps rising on your arms.

The front door wasn’t closed properly, and you were sure that you had closed it last night.

Your heart started pounding in your head but you stepped out of your room, still holding the nail file tightly just in case there was a sudden movement. You took another step, trying to fix your breathing but you happened to inhale deeply for a second, and that’s when you took the scent.

You smelt it before you could even see it, the bile climbing up your throat almost automatically.

Metallic and sweet.

Blood and jasmines.

You slowly lowered your glances to the floor connecting the hall to the living room to follow the small flowers of jasmines soaked in the red river of blood, leading behind the kitchen island. There were sirens going off in your head, screaming at you to run away but you took a deep breath, your whole body shaking as you stepped around the kitchen island, the warm blood soaking your feet before your eyes found the body lying completely still on the floor.

The nail file slipped from your closed fist as you stared at your ex-boyfriend Anthony, his eyes wide open and fixed on the ceiling, his hair and clothes drenched in his own blood.

The shock only lasted for one second.

Then a scream ripped itself from your throat.

Chapter 17

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer imagine #spencer imagines #spencer #reid #reid imagine #reid x you #dr spencer reid #reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #twisted

[centralsaints]

mcl headcanon masterpost pt.1 - armin

let's start this off with my long term favourites; the twins. this is armin's part, and alexy is next!

will start this with his full name being armin frederic lemaire

if you name a joint, he has probably dislocated it at least once in his life. he’s always been hypermobile, having chronic pain (mistaken as growing pains) and fatigue, being prone to dislocation. that later becomes a diagnosis of hypermobile ehlers-danlos syndrome.

that makes him also prone to getting migraines and headaches regularly, explaining the whole hating bright lights thing

he has had an eating disorder on and off since he was about 15; partly diagnosed, he meets the criteria for OSFED, so his ed is a bit. weird and all over the place. it’s mostly periods of restriction with a fear/disgust of food, followed by periods of binging and eating more or less normally. he’s closer to atypical bulimia, in terms of specifics, because the binge/purge episodes aren’t that frequent. he went inpatient once, and still jokes about how he was the only guy there. only his family knows about his eating issues as of now.

another thing about the ed is that it was already kind of in the making when alexy had his unaliving attempt, but that was really what kickstarted it all.

around UL, with nathaniel going absolutely off the fucking rails, armin and amber struck an odd friendship. they both could clock the other on their fucked up eating issues, but neither said anything for a long time, until amber did. they agreed to try and recover together.

his favourite pokemon type is ghost (thank you anon, idk anything about pokemon but i wanted to include this)

he plays animal crossing with kentin (who doesn’t like admitting that he plays it because it’s very relaxing for him) and jade.

he’s a gemini sun, cancer rising, libra moon, same as alexy.

he has add (adhd inattentive type) and his most common stims are bouncing his leg and chewing his pens. his object permanence is also absolute shit, if its out of sight, it doesn’t exist.

he doesn’t untie his shoes when taking them off or putting them on, and has ruined many perfectly good pairs of shoes that way.

he has made tik toks starring rocket the ferret

his playlists are lo-fi music, video games and movie soundtracks, and like. twenty one pilot.

his nose is crooked from when he broke it around 11 years old

he also bruises really easily (mostly due to his EDS) and his legs are always covered in various bruises. he’s also very clumsy, which doesn’t help

he doesn’t like alcohol; he doesn’t like the taste, the way it makes him feel and the aftermath; it doesn’t take much to affect him and he’ll sleep for an entire day. but he’ll sometimes drink in social situation just to not feel left out.

he’s bisexual. the less obvious stuff; what’s his type?? I know having a “type” isn't really a thing and u like who u like. with that said i think hed like slightly androgynous looking girls (soft spot for shaved heads. its soft;;), girls who are very very feminine but in an out of the ordinary way (think lolita, hyper pop fem vibe, goth girls in corsets, etc), guys who work out (he has a weakness for back muscles), in general people who stand out in a crowd be it with their appearance, style or their attitude

no i still have absolutely no idea how he would come out. i think he probably didn’t. he just started talking about it naturally, because it wasn’t a big deal. i think one day, either his mom or alexy made jokes about oh, when would he finally take this one cute girl on a date, and he just said, or maybe it’ll be a boy. it just happened like that

ref post for his fashion sense

he can do a killer winged liner. look, man’s into cosplay, of course he can.

he’s played mystic messenger ironically at first and then ended up actually liking it

he actually can draw, because he spent all middle school drawing anime characters in all his notebooks

he always sits kind of awkwardly (proof is the episode 12 illustration lmao) because 1. bi people can’t sit right (source: me) and 2. he’s just. really lanky and has long limbs and doesn’t really know what to do with all of it

this one is from an anon last year: “I have this weird hc about the twins. Alexy sleeps with like a million pillows and blankets , while Armin tries to sleep with pillows but throws it out every time even though he's asleep.” and i love it. he also probably sleep in very weird positions which leads to him waking up hurting a lot of the time

he also has a weighted blanket that he and alexy kind of just. get turns using when they both still live at their parents house. it helps armin’s pain, and alexy’s overstimulation issues. when they leave, armin gets the weighted blanket

armin has a dimple on his right cheek when he smiles

he helped alexy dye his hair until they moved out and started living separately

he has his driving license, but alexy doesn’t

he’s scared of dogs (he probably met demon at one point bc i like him and cas being friends, and he was so nervous about it, poor boy

he likes taking ice cold shower in the evening because the cold water and then sinking in a warm bed make him sleepy and actually helps him fall asleep

he probably played dnd at one point

he smokes ouid occasionally, at first it was recreational, but it kind of helped with his joint pain so

i think this is all of them? i might be missing a few ones i never wrote out or that are buried in my files but i honestly don't feel like going through the dozen unfinished fics and compilation documents that mention armin in my drive or i would still be here next year

#my candy love #mcl #mcl armin #long post #mcl headcanon

[waragainstyourfaith]

Thank you to @broughtmeyourlove for listening to the beginnings of this (aka when I first got my thoughts down) and thank you to me for saying all this in the shower but most importantly thank you @hannibalhadalittlelamb whose art got me to finally think deeper about the nature of Hannibal’s trial. Let’s begin.

Hannibal’s trial isn’t something I usually see discussed within the fandom space. And why would it be? We know the final verdict and we know that besides that everything works out in the end anyway. It’s an afterthought. So who would care? That’s like reading the first few chapters of a book to skip to the final one. Characters change and so does the story as a whole.

On @/hannibalhadalittlelamb’s post (here), their tags read that their depiction of Hannibal is leaning into OOC (out of character) territory. I disagree.

During Hannibal’s trial, we have to think about how it would have gone down. Actually. There was no possible way for Will to miss or be exempt from this trial. His coworkers and boss knew his strong relation to Hannibal and how their professional relationship had definitely, at some point or another, turned personal. The mutual attempts of murder had not been lost on anyone, but, of course, that made Will all the more personal a witness.

However, Will wants nothing to do with Hannibal.

I understand there is a popular theory going around that Will and Hannibal were in a sort of understanding during the trial, but, honestly? We see Will desperately wanting to remain kept away from Hannibal, to live a normal life with a wife and son. Hannibal throws a wrench into this whole ordeal and this trial, after what conspired between them overseas, leaves Will in the headspace and with the opportunity to quite literally never see Hannibal again in his life.

And after everything and with what Will thinks he wants, how could he deny that? Helping Hannibal rule into the insanity plea was not an act of mercy but an act of protection. Will more than anyone knows Hannibal should be kept under 24/7 surveillance and away from every person he could ever harm. Being ruled out of given the death penalty was the underlying bonus his conscience wouldn’t let him think too deeply about.

In court, you are sworn in on the bible, on God, to tell “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth [...] So help you God.”. Both Will and Hannibal were undoubtedly sworn in, but considering the argument Hannibal’s legal team was using, would you trust a man under the insanity plea or his victim who is an FBI agent more? Right.

So, Will is given free rein in this courtroom to spin the story of him and Hannibal whichever way he pleases. Seeing what I mentioned before, Will is going to remove himself as far away from Hannibal as he can while still being able to confidentially and securely reveal everything without getting his hands dirty nor embarrassing himself. Hannibal does not get this luxury.

Hannibal is a man of his privacy. As many analyses have written and as many real psychologists have said while dissecting the headspace of Hannibal, his need to eat people is his need to control. The trauma Hannibal went through with Mischa, whether you know the depth of it or just the surface, is enough context to explain what happens next. Hannibal eats them. Attitude is Hannibal’s one basis of morals and consensus. “One should always eat the rude”.

To determine their fate and to consume them is him “playing God”, but at its core, it is Hannibal needing to be in control. We see the severity of his true, underlying, desperation come to light at a first glimpse with the gruesome death of Beverly Katz. Undoubtedly, this is one of his most haunting scenes and we see the insides(dissection) of Beverly as she had attempted to find in Hannibal by going through his home. By sneaking a glance under the person suit. His inner monster comes out in a rage during this murder. He is private and anything that anyone knows about Hannibal is what he has allowed them to live to be able to say so. Look at Will’s position once more.

What no one seems to realize is that, during this trial, Hannibal is not in control. Will is the spinster of their life, a life Hannibal used his truest of colors to paint, and ultimately watched it becomes torn to shreds in front of him. Remember, Will is sworn in during this trial. This does not necessarily mean he is telling the truth, but it means everyone thinks he is. It’s a play of tragedy and Hannibal and Will are the two lead star-crossed lovers.

The entirely of Hannibal and the world he has handed to Will on a sparkling platter is being dissected and shown to everyone. The story of the Chesapeake Ripper was undoubtedly massive. A criminal having not been caught for years that everyone seemed to know nothing about revealed to be one of the closest, inside links with the FBI themselves? Tale of the decade.

The spotlight is on Hannibal, but he is being puppeteered by Will without a say in it for himself.

Hannibal cracks as he’s poked and prodded and bare for the media to do as they like and Will sits by and says what he likes. Here is where we would see a sliver of what lays beneath their person suits. Hannibal’s impulsivity and monstrousness under his charming exterior and Will’s manipulative, isolatedness under his empathetic cloak.

We look at Hannibal. He would be torn to shreds from this. The porcelain pot that contains his beast has broken and shattered by the swatting hand of Will, someone he trusted and loved. The intruding eyes of the jury stay on him as he is diagnosed as insane while he considers himself to be in the best possible headspace he ever could be. Everything he told Will and what he considered truth from Will’s mouth was dismissed and disputed under oath.

Hannibal is embarrassed. People call him insane and lock him away at dig through his mind and his things without his permission with protruding needles and telescopes. Hannibal has to play nice to simply be allowed a working toilet and the books that he has collected himself. Anything and everything he writes and draws that he wants to send out is dissected and analyzed. He has no privacy. He is not allowed a toe out of line.

Looking back at Hannibal from season one, episode seven is a good one to compare from, and when we see him first after year years in isolation, we see plain as day these are not the same men. In season one, Hannibal is handsome and cunning enough so that he wiggles his way into the deepest, most protected parts of the FBI as one of the highest-ranked killers on their watch list. He is polite enough to even invite them to dinner and feed them the organs of his victims.

He’s slick and intelligent and Hannibal is the idea of a lifetime.

And then we come to the second half of season three.

Hannibal, at this point, has been isolated for three years and has been under painful scrutiny even longer. During this time, he’s had all the space he could get to rebuild the person suit, but the pieces won’t fit. It’s jaggedly put together and no matter how long he spends trying to perfect its construction to what it used to be, it isn’t what it used to be. Will had done that to him. Will had effectively broken Hannibal.

I see often the running gag that season three is immensely funnier and leaning much more into the comedy aspect of Hannibal during his interactions with Will and Alana and even jack to an extent. But this is not him being funny; this is Hannibal pushing limits.

Looking back to paragraph eleven [“To determine their fate and consume them…”] we come back to Hannibal’s need to control. Remember, in this space, Hannibal is shoved into line. He’s snappy and cynical here. This is Hannibal exercising his limits and testing patience. His acting out and making snide comments is nothing he can be punished for, but it clearly agitates them. Hannibal teeters just enough on the edge of annoyance so that his jabs still hit, but his privileges still remain.

This is his monster leaking through the cracks. Hannibal is desperate. He is grasping for a hold over these people he had looked down upon from his throne in the sky as God for so long. He is rude. This is both his shield and deception. It leaves Hannibal with the idea that he is effectively feeding them out of his hand, that he has them right where he wants them. When Hannibal does this, it is his last line of defense to keep himself from blowing up. Ruining it all.

Season three is not season one. He is gasping and hurt and that is what makes the Dolarhyde kill all the more powerful. The whiplash and bounce back with his and Will’s relationship is powerful and dangerous.

Will watching Hannibal with his dead stare, person suit thrown off the moment he decided to go with Hannibal into that car, as he is shot is groundbreaking. Hannibal can see Will. they have effectively switched positions. As though he were God, Will looks down on Hannibal’s suffering. When Will decides to fight Dolarhyde in retaliation,  this is the point it all cuts lose.

At that moment, Will has freed the beast. Hannibal has finally someone to take the reins of his monster whom he trusts. Because Hannibal never blamed Will, even during that time in his isolation, he was waiting. Waiting for Will because despite the betrayal and despite the hurt he loved him. All that time he loved him.

The Dolarhyde kill is the messiest one of the show, which makes it all the more powerful. Hannibal has--I don’t want to say “lost composure”--but he definitely has dropped the act of his togetherness. In this, Hannibal is free. So long he has spent trying to hold himself together, to fool those around him and take care of everyone and himself. 

It’s a common misconception that a person in a position of power, such as a CEO, would want to be in this position all of the time. In fact, it’s been shown that the human mind needs a healthy balance. A person who is pushed around on a day-to-day basis and has no control over their life would most likely enjoy having control over a person and vice versa.

God must be tired. Hannibal was. Wearing his person suit for years and years, with only a dangerous outlet to relieve the built-up tension of his monster. To place the control into Will’s hands is inevitable and the best relief for both of them. Hannibal in killing and Will in power.

In that final scene, Hannibal has surrendered control to Will while barring the entirety of what lay within and Will has a high enough apathy for this to no longer have any hold over him. They have switched their roles. Now, Will is the one pulling the strings and Hannibal is the one letting himself be maneuvered.

This trial was the turn of the tables. It was the biggest part of their character and the biggest foreshadowing for the finale.

In Florence, Hannibal has the hold over Will. In season two, Will has the hold over Hannibal. In season one, Hannibal has the hold over Will. This trial that has been left out was the missing piece to even their stance and to level their playing field, making it easiest for the two to blur.

The trial is effectively and consequently one of if not the most important scene that was missing from the show.

#takes a deep breath of relief #working on this all day in bits and pieces #hannibal nbc #text #hannibal lecter #this is 2k words long have fun yall i did not reread this #gro.dy

[welllpthisishappening]

It all kind of happens in slow motion.

One second, Emma hears the crack of the bat and the requisite roar of the crowd, and the next her eyes have widened to a size most scientists would likely advise against. Because, standing at home plate, that same home plate multiple baseball players are sprinting toward, is her kid. More or less waiting to be run over. That is, of course, until Killian Jones.

———

Word Count: 4.1K Rating: Flufffy fluff fluff of the fluffiest variety AN: Writing has been something of a legitimate challenge for me in the last few weeks, but earlier this week @ohmightydevviepuu sent a link to this tweet, tagged me, and said what I basically took as an unspoken prompt. Like, you’re going to send me video of a bat boy getting scooped up at home by a player in the middle of the game and then think I won’t write about it? Not possible. Even with the aforementioned writing challenges. Nothing stands a chance against my love of baseball. Here’s hoping the Yankees turn it around in the second half. Neither Aaron Judge or I deserve the season we’ve had so far.

———

Biologically speaking, Emma Swan is perfectly aware that the current positioning of her heart is more or less impossible. 

Stuck somewhere between the back of her throat and the pit of her stomach, it makes her all too aware of the now-empty chasm in her chest, stretching out toward her arms and threatening the structural integrity of her lungs, neither of which appear all that intent on working properly. Oxygen is a luxury not currently afforded to her capillaries. Instead, nerves mix with anxiety and the telltale flush of adrenaline that probably also makes her look relatively crazy because her pupils are definitely dilated and she does not know nearly enough about science to be making any of these claims. 

Whatever, really. 

It feels like that ooze from that movie. FernGully, Emma thinks. With the fairies. She thinks they were fairies. She’s not entirely certain they were fairies. 

And the ooze was definitely oil, obviously. There was a message involved in that movie. Not one that she appreciated when she was seven and Tim Curry’s animated-oil voice sort of freaked her out. But, like, she gets it now. The environment, and everything. With or without fairies. With Robin Williams, though. 

She’s positive about that, at least. 

Robin Williams was definitely in that movie. 

Less positive about the ability of her heart to actually split itself in half, as it seems wont to do at the moment. So, as to make it easier when it inevitably soars out of her mouth and falls onto the scuffed-up clubhouse floor beneath her feet. Naturally, this will happen simultaneously. For maximum effect. 

Much like the fireworks currently exploding over the left-field bleachers. 

She’s not sure if fireworks do explode, actually. That seems dangerous. Likely to lead to injuries and sounds that don’t resemble the  oohs and ahhs a ballpark generally inspires. Explode probably isn’t the right word. Maybe something more like…detonate. 

No, that’s worse. Way worse. She’s got to learn more words. Find a thesaurus or a dictionary or—a fireworks expert would be ideal, honestly.

Someone who could give her a detailed description of the inner-workings of a Yankee Stadium pyrotechnics display on a Tuesday in July, enough words that Emma’s mind would still for a few moments, allowing her to catch her breath and reestablish a consistent heart rate, and both of those problems could also likely be solved by sitting down, but the chair to her left looks a little wobbly, and her legs appear to have minds of their own because science is rather quickly becoming a lie and—

“Is he alright?” She spins. Nearly falls over. Her knees are also awfully wobbly, that’s why. 

Despite all of that, and the overall circumference of her pupils, the voice doesn’t retreat. Doesn’t even flinch. Shows absolutely no signs of imminent stumbling. And that’s probably because the voice is a man, one who is in possession of world-class instinctual reactions, and his hair is still damp from his post-game shower and it absolutely makes her something of an atrocious mother to acknowledge that last thing as quickly as she does. 

His shirt sleeves are noticeably sticking to his biceps, so that helps too. 

Opening her mouth, Emma is going to say words that are both vaguely intelligent and passably accurate, absolving this Major League Baseball player of any of the guilt he so obviously feels. Which is just patently stupid, really. None of this was his fault. None of it was anyone’s fault, really. 

Except maybe the idiot who left his bat at that particular angle across home plate, but Emma’s an adrenaline expert these days and walk-offs are understandably exciting. First walk-offs more so. 

She’s happy for Scarlet, really. 

They won the game. 

Everything is fine. Great, even. She nearly jumps twenty-six feet in the air at the next boom of fireworks. 

The pinch between the Major League Baseball player’s eyebrows gets—

Pinchier. 

The little roll of skin draws Emma’s attention, effectively robbing her of the ability to respond like an almost-sane person, but she’s also still trying to rationalize why she can remember the words to several FernGully songs while also being unable to recall what flavor PopTart she had for breakfast earlier this week and she figures watching her kid nearly get run over by professional athletes approximately forty-two minutes before gives her a fairly reasonable excuse. 

For opening and closing her mouth no less than eight consecutive times. 

Like a goddamn fish. There were no fish in FernGully. Least not so far as she remembers. 

It’s entirely possible she squeaks on attempt number five. 

The Major League Baseball player’s eyebrows do not move. It’s equal parts frustrating and incredible to behold. 

“I should probably thank you, right?” Emma asks, not quite regretting the words immediately, but it’s awfully close. That gets her some movement. Of the eyebrow variety. One eyebrow, specifically. Arching up, it somehow still manages to pull her attention directly toward eyes that should be the star of their own marketing campaign. Not quite Yankee blue, but distractingly blue, and it takes everything in her not to huff as dramatically as she wants to. Once the athletic trainer is done with Henry, Emma is going to make him examine her lungs. Rationality rules the day. 

Major League Baseball player shakes his head. It’s dumb to call him that. She knows his name. Knows at least some of his history. Is still staring obnoxiously at his freakishly attractive face. 

Freakishly is kind of mean, too. As far as descriptions go. 

“Unnecessary,” he says, an undercurrent of worry still clear in the letters. Ducking his head, he takes a cautious step forward, almost as if he’s wary of what Emma will do, and she supposes that’s fair. What with the impressive vertical she’s in possession of these days. “Anyone would do that.” “I’m not sure they could, actually.”

At some point in this otherwise shitty experience of a night, Emma is vaguely confident something will go the way she wants it to. Aside from winning. She’s glad they won. Seriously. 

“No?” “No,” she echoes, and it’s not like she can feel him. A few feet of space separates them, so whatever heat appears to be wafting off the Major League Baseball player in front of her, with his damp hair, and stupid, stupid, stupid eyes is as impossible as any of the various impossibilities currently taking place within her person. 

And yet. 

He sticks his hand out. 

It’s disarmingly earnest. 

“Killian Jones,” he says, confidence replacing the nerves, and Emma begins to see why there are so many stories. And Twitter threads. Regarding his face and the potential for that face to date a variety of other attractive faces across at least four of the five boroughs. Somehow Emma doesn’t think Killian Jones, New York Yankees third baseman, is schlepping out to Staten Island for a date. 

Nor does she believe that Killian Jones, New York Yankees third baseman, has ever once let the word schlep pass through his conscious mind. 

She takes his hand. 

It is—

Surprisingly warm. And...not quite soft, that’d be impossible with the job he performs almost nightly. But the calluses on the pads of his fingers aren’t as rough as Emma expects, which also suggests she’s managed to ponder the overall texture of Killian Jones’s fingers in the last twelve point six seconds, and that’s not entirely true. What is true is that Ruby thinks Killian Jones is real good-looking and has determined that the phrase quite a catch is the pinnacle of humor, so, sure, Emma has possibly considered the possibility of paths crossing and intersecting, and her hand looks minuscule wrapped up in his. So, that’s something to think about later. 

Their arms move. Bob up and down as society dictates they should, and he’s smiling at her, and she’s trying not to look like a serial killer, straining to hear the voices behind the door, and it does not work. 

“Why do you think people are so consistently fascinated by fireworks?” If he’s surprised by her absolutely inane question, he doesn’t show it. That’s points. For what, Emma hasn’t totally decided yet, but it’s something, and it’s probably good, and they’re going to play that clip on loop for weeks. Longer, probably. 

Every goddamn day if the Yankees make the postseason. 

When the Yankees make the postseason. 

Her dad wouldn’t appreciate the buffer. Leaves room for loss, and that is not the Nolan way. Not when there are championships to win, and this was supposed to be the best possible time. Smack dab in the middle of the season, with the All-Star break looming, Henry would get to suit up as batboy for one game that didn’t mean much and wouldn’t draw too strong of a spotlight, no murmurs about nepotism by internet trolls who couldn’t possibly define the word with any sort of accuracy, but also like to shout about canceling and culture with an almost alarming sense of self-righteousness, so, of course, the whole thing was now blowing up in their face. 

Much like the goddamn fireworks. 

It wasn’t Will Scarlet’s fault. 

Wasn’t Henry’s fault, either. 

His job was to get the bats out of the field of play. Doing it while the field of play was still active was a mistake any kid could have made. Just so happens that it’s Emma’s kid, and the grandkid of the Yankees’ hitting coach, and that means something to the New York media and the New York fans, and if Killian Jones, New York Yankees third baseman with an arm that can make cross-field throws with ease, wasn’t also so quick-thinking and sure-footed, scooping Henry up as he crossed home plate and avoiding the ensuing swarm of players at home plate, all intent on celebrating Will Scarlet’s first-ever career walk-off, Emma can only imagine what would have happened. 

Trampled. Stepped on. Broken bones. Concussions. 

They’re checking Henry for a concussion now. He absolutely does not have a concussion. He was laughing while he was carried off the field. Like he hit the walk-off. 

Front office is absolutely petrified she’s going to sue them. 

The thought hadn’t even once crossed Emma’s mind. Plus, she’s sort of busy. Holding Killian Jones’s hand. His stupid, warm hand. 

“Bright colors,” he says, responding to a question Emma’s nearly forgotten about. Jumping is more challenging when his fingers tighten ever so slightly. “Flash, boom. Taps into baser instincts, I think.” “You think people’s base instinct is to enjoy explosions.” “Phrasing that as a statement makes me think you don’t agree with me.” “You didn’t want me to thank you,” Emma points out.

“Well, no,” he says, and the precise way his eyes drop does something specific to all of her instincts. Leaves her flush with a heat that reminds her of Fourth of July sparklers rather than any sort of massive explosion, and that’s not bad, per se, although it’s admittedly a little surprising. As is the slight uptick of precisely one side of his mouth. It takes her a moment to realize he’s smirking at her. And another for her subconscious to admit that it’s working as intended. Her shoulders drop half an inch. While Emma pulls her hand back to her side. “Thanking me suggests I did anything to warrant the thanks.” “Big words.” “For a dumb athlete, you mean.” “That wasn’t a question, either.” “No,” Killian repeats, “it wasn’t.” “I’d really like to thank you. I—Dad told him when to come out of the dugout, so he definitely knew the rules, but I think he was super worried about you tripping over the bat.”

The smirk becomes a full-blown smile. Which is no less than forty-seven thousand times more powerful. Equivalent to staring directly into a solar eclipse or gazing upon the dark side of the moon, and Emma should at least do some research before coming up with these internal examples. Basic Google searches would provide her with the necessary information. 

“That’s more or less what he told me, yeah.” Emma’s nose creases. “Talked your ear off after your daring rescue, huh?” “Keep complimenting me like this, and my ego won’t know what to do with it.”

She hopes she’s not blushing as much as it feels like she is. The state of Killian’s eyebrows and the precise curl of his lips make that seem unlikely. “Your reflexes are unparalleled.” “Something about big bucks and why I get paid them.” “Oh,” Emma laughs, unable to stop herself, and she doesn’t remember deciding to stop pacing, only that her knees appreciate it once she has, “you think you’re real funny, don’t you?” “I think I’m moderately funny, not the hero you’re suggesting I am—” “Oh, I never used the word hero.” “—And you never actually told me your name.”

“Because you don’t know who I am.” It’s not a question, either. Neither one of them mention that. 

“I do,” Killian concedes, “Henry was also fairly quick to mention exactly who he was and where his mother was sitting.” Emma’s nose is going to freeze in this position. “But I gave you my name, which makes it only fair that we’re all square and whatnot.” “Whatnot, huh?” “Yup.” He pops his lips on the letter. Which is also unfair. In, like, the grand scheme of the world. The black ooze that is not actually oil when used in this particular metaphor recedes. Leaves Emma with a chest cavity that is partially full of butterfly wings and the growing sense of anticipation that isn’t quite as nerve-wracking as it should be. Like she’s about to step into the batter’s box with two outs and runners in scoring position. She’s totally going to hit against the shift. Fluttering her fingers at her side, Emma doesn’t lift her hand. It doesn’t matter. 

Killian’s eyes drop. To the movement. And her. And part of her shies away from that because part of her has spent a lifetime tucked into a shadow that didn’t belong to her and doesn’t belong to Henry, but now there’s some joke about Peter Pan to be made because they live in an internet-age and Killian Jones has a very good face. So. Viral video, enter stage right. Starring Henry Swan, Killian Jones, and the inevitably uneven pitter-patter of Emma’s traitorous heart. 

“Emma Swan.” “I think you should sit down.”

“Why is that, exactly?” “I’m worried about your legs.”

Whatever noise she makes can’t quite be classified as a scoff. It hurts her throat too much. And it’s not a laugh, either. Even as the butterflies threaten to rise up in mutiny of Emma’s more rational feelings, and she gets the distinct impression that Killian is reading her mind. Trying very hard, at least. 

“Sounds like a line.” “Might be a line,” he admits, which draws another wholly inhuman sound out of Emma’s barely-functioning lungs. 

“Did he kick you on the lift?” Killian hums. “You’d kick too if you were just hauled off your feet, so I understand the reaction. What I’m more worried about is the inevitable bruise on my foot from the bat landing there.” “Ah shit, really?” “I’ve had worse.” “But not in 4K video that people will play on loop for the rest of the news cycle. If not longer.” Narrowing his eyes, Killian doesn’t immediately respond. Mind reading requires a modicum of focus, Emma assumes. Instead, he rests a hand on her shoulder, directing her toward the chair and ignoring the soft crack her left knee as it bends. “That’s what you’re worried about.” “Stop sounding so confident.” “I can only sound how I am, Swan.” “Oh, I’m not sure we’ve reached nickname status yet,” she mumbles, pushing down the soft rush of metaphorical insects doing their beset to soar out of her barely-parted lips. “But, yeah, I—I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was totally terrified in the moment.”

“Understandable. Grown men barrelling down the third-base line at your kid are a lot to take in.” She snorts. It’s not cute. Not dignified. Killian smirks. “Should you be concerned that the Scarlet was making such solid headway behind you? Are you exceedingly slow?” “I am league average.” “How fast can you get out of the box to first?” “I’ve never timed it.” “Liar, liar.” “Please don’t make a crack about my pants,” Killian says, “I won’t be able to cope.”

“Oh God, you think you’re charming, too.” “I’ve had no complaints.” “To your face, at least.”

Throwing his head back, the laugh that erupts out of him is not of volcano proportions. Of which there was also one in FernGully if Emma’s memory is to be trusted.  An arm circles his middle, stretching muscle and ensuring that Emma notices just how corded that same muscle is, the slight bend of his wrist leaving her off-kilter. When he meets her gaze, she swears his eyes are brighter. “Yeah, yeah, that’s true,” Killian concedes, “no one has flat out told me I was lacking charm to my face.” “This thanking you thing is going great.” “And I continue to not need thanks. Why are you worried about the video getting out there? Filmed in 4K like you suggest, at least we’ll all look great. Sharp pixels and whatnot.” “What do you know about pixels?” “You basically heard the extent just now.”

She’s getting better at laughing. The ooze has almost all but disappeared, Emma twirling a strand of hair around fingers that are intent on moving, and it’s an old habit. One Killian’s gaze catches on. Immediately. Quickly. Seriously, Emma needs a thesaurus. “Baseball’s always been my dad,” she says. “And that’s—well, we’ve lived this game, me and my mom, weekend series and West Coast swings, waiting up for him to get home because the flight got delayed, but Henry’s just a kid, getting thrown into this world because of his last name and who his family is? That sucks. Nothing was supposed to happen tonight.” “Nothing did happen.” “Because of you.” “I’d like to believe Scarlet, ridiculously fast as he might be, would not run over a small child,” Killian says. “And, uh, for the record and all that, I got a bad jump off first because I didn’t know if they were going to catch it in left. No one wants to get caught on the base paths.” “Yeah, that’d be embarrassing.”

He must hear the hitch in her voice because the next thing Emma realizes, her fingers are twisted back up in Killian’s, and she’s warm and falling and flying, and it’s good and weird, and the door swings open. 

They both jump.

So, that’s something. 

Rushing out quickly enough that he nearly trips over his own feet, Henry’s head leads the way and finds Emma’s stomach, a tangle of limbs, and overly-excited words, all of which rival the now-finished fireworks display in volume. 

It takes Henry about five and a half run-on sentences to notice Killian standing there. 

His eyes widen. His mouth drops. Killian grins. Emma tries very hard not to die. It only sort of works. 

She blames the faulty body parts she’s in possession of. 

“Killian,” Henry exclaims, clamoring back to his feet and nearly falling again in the process. Hands that belong to both Emma and Killian dart out, steadying Henry while their eyes meet over the top of his head. Killian winks. He tries. It’s more like a blink than anything. “Hi, hi! You did so good tonight! And we won, and I got to go on the field and—and, it was so,” Henry heaves a deep breath, “we were so good.”

Collective pronouns do something to Emma’s entire state of being. 

Flips it on an axis she hadn’t been aware previously existed until it almost feels as if this was the path they’d been directing themselves toward from the start. Her eyes flit toward Killian. Who is already watching her. 

“We did,” he nods, “maybe next time, though, you wait one extra second to grab Scarlet’s bat, ok?” Seeing her own nose scrunch reflected back on her kid is not the worst thing that’s ever happened to Emma. The vibrating phone in her back pocket, might be. 

It’s one-hundred percent, Ruby. 

“That’s what grandpa said too,” Henry grumbles, digging a toe of the cleats Emma’s mother bought him last week into the ground, “but I wanted to make sure you didn’t fall.”

Definitely dying, then. A systematic shut down of all necessary internal organs. It’s not as bad as Emma would have expected. 

Neither one of Killian’s knees crack when he bends. That seems heavy-handed. 

“And I don’t want you to fall either,” he says, “so we agree, right here, right now, not to let the other one fall, huh?” Emma holds her breath. Ignores the pinch in her lungs and the clearly unstable nature of both her mind and her heart, digging her nails into her palms. To ensure she isn’t tempted to haul Henry back toward her. Or push that one strand of hair away from Killian’s forehead. 

Henry nods. “Deal.”

They hook their pinkies together. 

It’s adorable and as endearingly charming as everything else Killian Jones, New York Yankees third baseman, has done since he walked into that hallway. Less so when her dad emerges from the office, the athletic trainer on his heels to not-so-quietly inform Killian that he can’t just blow off post-game like that, and the second wink is as bad as the first. 

She does her very best to memorize the movement. 

And the joy on Henry’s face the next morning when a box arrives on their doorstep, a genuine, game-worn Killian Jones jersey inside. She doesn’t notice the note at first, tucked between the cardboard and the tissue paper someone must have bought for him. He can’t have bought that tissue paper himself. He just—it’s unfathomable. 

Emma knows he bought the tissue paper himself. 

As clearly as she knows that those numbers in that particular order will lead to Killian Jones answering his phone and that her voice likely won’t shake when she replies to the question written in surprisingly loopy script. Which is why, Emma will argue, she does reply. In the affirmative. To several questions over the course of the remaining season, and they don’t star in any more viral videos, but there are a few pictures once they clinch the division. 

Drops of champagne cling to the tips of Emma’s eyelashes and the ends of Killian’s hair, hands on her waist that blaze a quick path up her back and around her middle, and she has to tilt her head up to get the right angles. Of lips. While they kiss in the middle of the clubhouse, the hat someone forced onto Emma’s head falling and it’s impossible to hear over the sound of celebratory fireworks, but she can somehow still hear Henry’s laugh ringing out from the general area near Scarlet’s locker, and his jersey collection is growing at an impressive rate. 

No one can withstand the overall cuteness of him. 

Emma included. Emma, especially. 

Sometimes she worries she’s so happy she’ll burst, unable to contain the sort of emotion her body is still acclimating itself to. But then she realizes just how dumb that is and happiness cannot possibly be quantified, and her head is buzzing enough from champagne that she nearly misses Killian when he says, “people love the bright spots, Swan.” It’s not the most romantic thing he’s told her. Doesn’t crack the top five, quite frankly. She swoons all the same. With her kid laughing and her team winning and that’s about all the sentiment she’s willing to acknowledge before her tongue is in Killian’s mouth. He groans. She grins. 

And he’d been right about the video. It wasn’t the embarrassment Emma worried it could be. Was mostly relegated to the corners of the internet set aside for formerly popular content as soon as the season ended, spoken about only in fond recollection as the other seasons went on and the wins kept coming and all three of them stand on a parade float with the World Series trophy a few dozen feet away, several Novembers after that first game. 

It’s a Thursday afternoon, then. 

And yet Emma never entirely forgets. What the video meant and what it did and she’s not remotely surprised when it finds its way back to the forefront of the sports zeitgeist on a Wednesday in July. Most mentions come with similar taglines and messages. Something about feeling our age and wanna feel old because that bot boy, David Nolan’s grandson, Killian Jones’s stepson, he’s getting drafted now. 

Got drafted, technically. 

Third round, video of the soon-to-be third baseman for the San Diego Padres makes the internet circuits and garners plenty of interest. It’s not the most exciting video, though. Henry just hugs his family. Who hug tightly back. 

What is more exciting is the box that arrives on Emma and Killian’s doorstep. With a note that eventually earns a frame next to the last one and a wholly official, game-worn jersey that has a noticeable streak of dirt across the left sleeve. From sliding head-first into home plate.  

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #do not ask me why this is so full of ferngully references #i do not have an answer for you #the google doc title for this was: BaseballCuresWritersBlock #thanks baseball

[yungbud]

Hi my love! When you have time could you write an fluffy & smutty imagine where the reader gets insecure & worries or compares themselves to Ashley? (Halsey) & Dom finds out & shows the reader how much they mean to him & how much he loves them daddy kink in there with the smut please & a lot of praise & saying "I'll take care of you pretty girl" 🥺

Word count:4.1k

TW?: mostly angst and fluff, but mentions of daddy kink and adult themes obviously its smut.

A/n: anything for you my lil nugget 🥺 Smut is at the bottom you horny cunts. I hope it was everything you wanted and more <33

*rewrite

You knew better. Unfortunately, you were self destructive and couldn't help yourself. It was 3AM and Dom was fast asleep beside you, and had been for hours. You, however, had chosen to watch a video before bed. It was titled “Yungblud being cute for 6 minutes straight.”, but of course one video turned to five or six more, until eventually you came along another video. This one was called “Halsey and yungblud cute moments.” and the cover photo was of them in onesies, one of Dom's arms wrapped around her and the other holding the camera. You could feel the pit begin to grow in your stomach. Glancing over at Dom to check he was still asleep, you pressed play on the video, flipping over so you were facing him, so that if he did wake up he wouldn’t see what was on the screen.

It was ridiculous, honestly. How could you be jealous of her when you were the one laying right next to him. It broke your heart the way he looked at her, you couldn’t help but wonder... is that how he looks at you? Why would he? She’s so beautiful, look at jawline, look at those eyes and her voice. Oh god... her voice, she's a musician. You loved music, but you had never been musically inclined and at best you could go hard on the triangle. But her, she understood it all, down to the tour life. When he was overwhelmed with work or couldn’t find a melody, she could help, when he didn’t know how to deal with all the attention, she could help. She was like the perfect mentor/ girlfriend combo. She connected with him in ways you would never be able to. She got it.

Your finger hovered over part 2 of the video, a moment of hesitation before pressing it. You tapped twice more to skip past the person's intro, wasting no time in getting to the painful stuff. 

One of the first clips was Halsey talking about the night they met. You knew it was unhealthy, but you couldn’t look away. She described it so beautifully, taking a moment to mention that of course she would because she's a writer and that's how she saw the world, her world was so beautiful. Dom deserved to live in her world. 

She went on to say that they had met up in a bar to chat, to which you remembered why. It wasn’t a coincidence, Dom liked her music. He looked up to her. Just another way you could never be who he needed. 

You couldn’t help it. He’d made the trade down of the century and everyone knew it. You paused the video momentarily, subduing the verbal attack on your ears and laying your phone down on your chest. Heavy breaths slid past your lips as you tried to calm yourself from a full blown breakdown.

 You glanced once more over at Dom, ensuring he was asleep before letting a single tear slip down your face. You used the blanket to wipe it away, basking in the shitty feeling you had created for yourself. You decided that was enough of that, shutting off your phone and plugging it up for the night. After laying there silently for a moment you scooted a bit away from Dom. 

You didn’t really feel like being held by him tonight.

----

The first thought in your head the next morning was of the events of last night, the same shitty feeling digging itself into the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck.” You sighed

“Sorry, I was borrowing one of Dom’s shirts. I didn’t mean to wake you.”  You turned your head to acknowledge the presence in the room. It was Tom, bent over and digging through a pile of Dom’s clothes.

“All good.” You murmured, flipping onto your stomach and burying your face in the pillow. It smelled like Dom.

Soon after you heard the door shut behind Tom as he left, your head lifting from the pillow. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t really feel like being around Dom today. You couldn’t get past the feeling that he was ultimately worse off with you, that he had settled for less.

You hated the way you felt, your face drooping back into the pillow in an attempt to hide and ended up dozing off, the late night pity marathon catching up with you.

About an hour later you were awoken to Dom’s lips on your forehead. Your eyes met momentarily as you blinked the sleep out of them, reaching upwards in a stretch.

“ ‘ello sleepy head.” Dom says, planting another kiss, this time to your nose. You roll over, replanting your face in the pillow once again, “Are you going back to sleep?” He asks

“Tired.” You mumble back, voice muffled by the pillow.

“It’s 1pm.” no response “How late did you stay up last night?” He asks, laying his head on the pillow next to yours. You shrugged.

“Are you feeling alright, love?” You shifted your head so that you were looking at him, cheek still pressed softly against your pillow “Are you feeling a bit sick? Is it cramps? I can make you a cup of tea and get you some pain killers.” He continued, offering to help you in any way he could. He just wanted to know what was wrong with you, so he could help you. He hated the idea of you up in bed all alone feeling ill. He considered skipping the studio today, he was already cutting it close on time.

“No, I feel fine. Just need a nap. I must’ve stayed up later than I realized, s’all.” You knew you needed to tell him. Every silent moment was filled with you trying to convince yourself to just say something to him. Just talk about it. Just let him in.

“Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll be out of the house at the studio, but Tom and Adam are here if you need them. I’ll tell them to be quiet so you can get some rest.” You smiled in response, your eyes closing as he rubbed his thumb lovingly against your cheek “Hey, I love you.” he says, your eyes opening as you mumbled back an I love you of your own, your lips meeting in a chaste kiss before he stood back up and slipped out the door.

As much as you would’ve loved to, you didn’t sleep at all after he left. Tom and Adam had made good on their promise to stay quiet, but it didn’t make much of a difference when that little voice in your head wouldn’t shut up. You opted for distracting yourself with your phone, scrolling through instagram and hoping the memes would brighten your mood. For the most part they did, acting as a simple distraction. 

Once you felt a bit better, you decided part of the reason you felt so bad today and last night was partially due to the fact that you hadn’t had anything to eat. You went to the kitchen to prepare yourself lunch, hearing Tom and Adam talking quietly in the other room.

While you were preparing your food you accidentally bumped into a stack of dirty dishes that had built up in the kitchen. You didn’t see what happened and when you turned to check nothing looked broken, but it was loud.

“Y/n?” Tom asks, tilting his head to get a better look into the kitchen.

“Hm?” You respond after a few moments of quiet deliberation. You weren’t exactly ready to be observed as awake, but you didn’t have any other choice, besides blaming it on an intruder who broke in with the intent of stealing the beloved orange tree outside, but when they arrived in the kitchen and were met with such a disgraceful mess decided they had no choice but to clean up after us. Of course, that might have stirred up a bit of a panic. They loved that orange tree, after all.

“Oh you’re finally up. Are you feeling alright? Dom said he thought you maybe came down with something.” Adam says

“I’m alright, thanks for asking. I’m just making myself lunch.”

“Come sit with us while you eat. We’re playing uno.” Tom invites. When you’re done making yourself food, you decide maybe it would be best to join them. It’s not good for your mental health to be stuffed up in your room pitying yourself all day.

You sat with your food in front of you, watching silently as they played.

“You wanna be dealt in the next round? It’s more fun with three players.” Tom offers, you give him a nod in response as your mouth is full of food. As you nod, Adam plays a red six, which ultimately leads to his demise as Tom then plays three red draw 2’s, stopping Adams hand as he goes to pick up and continuing to lay a red skip, then a yellow one, changes the color back to red and ends on his own red 3. You all laughed as Adam was absolutely massacred, almost choking on your lunch.

“There ain’t no coming back from that. Just tap out man.” You say through your laughter, reaching over to place a comforting hand on Adam. You all had small conversation as you finished your lunch, but soon you were done and the cards were passed out.

After a game or two, the round was paused as Adam stood up to get himself a glass of water, Tom and you shouting out your own drink orders from your place in the living room. By the time Adam was back at the table the running conversation had died down a bit. You began to think about why you’d been in bed all day, and the fact that Dom still attributed it to a small sickness. You felt the insecurity growing inside you once again, and you finally decided to talk about it.

“Did you guys like Ashley?” You ask, as inconspicuously as you could manage.  You watch as they glance at each other, taking a sip of your drink to occupy your mouth.

“Yeah, she was cool,” Tom says, Adam nodding in confirmation “Why?”

“Just curious, I guess. Did you guys ever hang out?” You tried to play it off as casual conversation, but you got the feeling they were picking up on the fact that there was something more under the surface.

“Not really. Not without Dom, even then it was rare. Who’s turn was it?” Tom continued, feeding into your curiosity while trying to maintain the card game.

“Yours, I think.” You paused for a moment, thinking of your next question “Do you think she was better for him than I am?” Your eyes met with Tom’s as the words left your mouth. He stayed silent for a moment and you couldn’t tell what the emotion on his face was. It felt weird, confiding in your boyfriend’s friends. Usually you could tell what your friends were thinking, or have an idea about what they might say, but you didn’t know these two like that.

“Like how?” He asked, nodding towards you to silently mention it was your turn.

“I dunno, they have the same career.” they let out a small laugh at that.

“She knows how to play a guitar so she loves him more?” Adam says

“Well, no, but…” you tried to remember what you were anxious about “she gets it. She knows what it's like to be on the road all the time and not see your family, she knows about the mental toll being in the public eye has and how to deal with it, she knows how to help if he’s nervous about performing.”

“What makes you assume that?” Tom asks

“She’s been doing it so long.”

“Well, yeah, but knowing how to do that isn’t a part of the job description. It’s less about knowing how to be famous and more about knowing the person you’re with. If it was about that, most people in Dom’s life don't get it. But we get Dom, and that’s what he cares about. You get him, so you have nothing to worry about.” Tom says softly. He made a surprisingly good therapist. 

You nodded, picking up 4 cards and sorting through them in your hand.

“But that doesn't mean you get to hide in your room cause you’re insecure. Just cause we’re talking about it doesn’t mean you don’t still need to tell him.” Tom continues, his chin resting in his hand as he looks at you.

“Yeah, of course.” You agree

~~~

You could hear Dom the second he walked in the house, engaging in a small conversation with the boys before making his way up the stairs. You heard his footsteps trail down the hallway and eventually meet your bedroom door, your eyes closing as you listened to it creak open.

“Love? Are you up?” Dom whispered, shutting the door softly behind him. You remained silent, trying to regulate your breathing like that of someone who’s asleep. He sighed, which made your heart crumple a bit. You wondered if you should respond, he might’ve had a hard day, but the nerves took over and you remained silent. 

“You’re still sleeping?” He asked, partially to himself, before exiting the room once more. You could hear him talking with Tom from outside the door.

“Has Y/N been asleep all day?”

“Uh, no. She came out and ate lunch and played uno with us around 2. Is she asleep now?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

You planned on talking it out with him, and up until he walked into the house you were, but you were suddenly overcome with intense nerves and all you wanted to do was hide.  You figured you would get a good night's rest and talk it out with him in the morning, that way if it went badly he would be out for most of the day at the studio and you wouldn’t have to sit in awkward silence as you tried to sleep.

He entered the room once again, stripping himself of his clothes as he preferred to sleep half naked, before joining you in bed. You felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you into him and wrapping you both in the blankets. Flipping over to face him, you nuzzled closer into his arms.

“Y/N?” He asks again, shifting to see if you’re awake. You hum in response this time, curious as to what he might have to say.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks, his hand returning to your cheek as it was this morning. You nod, letting out a small, genuine yawn as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

“How was your day?” You ask, shifting the conversation. 

“It was good. We finally got that song done, I think i’m gonna play with it a bit more tomorrow though. It’s good but I think it could be better.”

“You always think it can be better.”

“It always can.” He states simply, making you smile. You loved that about him, his pure determination and dedication to his craft. It can always be better.

“How was your day? Tom said you guys played a bit of uno, who won?”

“It was alright. Yeah, him and Adam were playing when I came down so I decided to join them. I think overall it was probably Tom though, I think he was cheating.” Dom laughed a little at the claim, brushing his fingers through your mess of a hair.

“So...” You began, needing to get a word out so you wouldn’t bail on talking about this. God, you hated confrontation. Especially when it was about something you were feeling. 

Dom hummed in response, the gentle reminder to continue breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I wasn’t sick today.”

“No?” He encouraged

“No. I was a bit tired though. But, that wasn’t the problem. I was watching youtube last night and I came across a video someone made. It was, like, a compilation of cute moments or whatever so I watched it cause it was cute. Then I watched another, and a few more, and eventually I came across a video that was called ‘Halsey and YUNGBLUD being soulmates for 3 minutes’... and I watched it.” He lets out a small, quiet snort, not entirely catching onto  the vibe of the conversation.

“Jeez, how do they come up with this shit.” He remarked lovingly

“Heh, yeah. It’s just… I watched it and I saw the way you talked about and looked at her… It just got me thinking, yenno?”

“I don’t. What’d it get you thinkin’ about, beautiful?”

“I just felt like maybe you regretted being with me. Maybe you’re still bummed that you guys broke up and you ended up with me. Like maybe you still miss her.” You admit. It’s silent for a moment as he takes it all in, you almost expect him to confirm your suspicions.

“I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I made you feel like that.” He took a moment to think carefully about his next words “I know it must be hard to hear me talk about someone else like that, you can’t really escape my past relationships because of who I am. I honestly never thought of that. I love you, okay? Not anybody else. Obviously she and I had something, but it’s completely in the past and I don’t regret a thing because it led me to you, and I love you so much. You’re my fookin soulmate, I mean it. I’m not gonna let that slip out of your head ever again.” He said, punctuating it with a passionate kiss.

You expected the kiss to end rather quickly, but it didn’t. It kept going, building in intensity as you scooted closer to one another. 

“I love you.” You whisper, breaking the kiss momentarily

“I love you so much, pretty girl” He responds, his hand coming up to hold your jaw.

“Hmm, show me.” You whisper, pulling him closer. His hand slides down your side and onto your thigh as your lips meet again, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling away lightly before indulging in the kiss once again.

Dom’s hands didn’t stay in one place for long, moving about your body as you made out, pausing his actions for a moment to take your shirt off, placing a kiss to each of your breasts before moving his lips up to your neck, leaving little marks for you to find in the morning. A chill ran down your back as he bit down on your ear, his hands massaging your breasts before reaching behind you and unbuckling your bra, throwing it off to the side and shifting his attention to your nipple. Taking it into his mouth, he presses his tongue flat against it as you lie down to give him a better angle.

His tongue flicking against your nipple while his hand plays with your other nipple. He swapped between which he used his mouth on and which he used his hand, making sure to give them both equal attention,  your hands tangling themself into his hair while he did so. When he was satisfied he pulled away, causing you to let out a small whimper as you felt his lips leave you, making their way down your stomach in a series of wet, open mouthed kisses.

When he made it to your underwear he licked a single stripe, taking his his sweet, sweet time. First, kissing his way up one thigh, then back down and ghosting his lips over the area you needed him both, taking a moment to inhale your scent before kissing his way back up the other leg, and right back down. 

“Please.” You whine

“Shh, I’m gonna take care of you, pretty girl.” He hushed, pulling your panties down your legs and glancing up at you as he did so, mimicking your pout before placing a chaste kiss on your clit. You leant your head back, closing your eyes as you waited patiently for him to begin. 

He started off slowly, licking up your slit as he took his time with you. Dom loved to use his tongue anytime he could, you loved it too. When he ate you out, it wasn’t just tongue, he made sure to pay attention to your clit and use his fingers when needed but on nights like tonight, where he really wanted to drive you crazy, he made sure to use a lot of tongue.

“You taste so good, pretty girl.” He whispers, his breath fanning against you, his hands wrapped around your thighs as he lost himself in you, holding you like if he didn’t you would take his meal away. You tried your best to suppress the moans he was pulling out of you, knowing Adam and Tom were just rooms away. The way he was working you left you wishing you had come to him with this sooner. Your hips came up to meet his actions, your hand placed firmly on the back of his head, pushing him as far into you as he could go, eager to meet your release. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, ride daddy’s face. Let daddy show you how much you mean to him.” He hums, taking a moment to catch his breath. You do as you’re told, the request putting you in anything but a bratty mood. You let out a small moan as he continues his actions, your hips setting the pace.

Once again, it started off slow, until you began to work yourself up. Your hand reached down, tangling itself in his hair once again, tugging as you tried to push yourself further down, your hips speeding up while you bite your tongue to keep down the moans that clawed their way up your throat.

You could feel the pressure building up in your stomach, squeaking out to Dom that you were gonna cum before releasing on his tongue. He let you remain there for a minute, riding out your high while he massaged and kissed your thighs. When you had fully come down you move yourself off his face, making your way down to his bulge where you began to unbutton his pants. His hand quickly came down to stop you.

“Tonight’s supposed to be about you.”

“I wanna make you feel good too.” You say, giving him a small pout. He stops to think for a moment before taking off his pants pulling you over him, giving himself a few painfully slow strokes before slipping himself inside of you. Your hips rocked carefully against him, still sensitive from your last orgasm. His hands continued to massage your hips as you found your pace, finding it harder and harder to remain silent.

“You’re so beautiful, pretty girl. Daddy loves to watch you bounce on his cock.” Dom growls, his hips coming up to meet yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, you give up on holding back your moans at this point as it’s already very obvious to anyone in the house what's happening upstairs. 

The bed was creaking, your skin  slapping together as he thrust into you, unable to cease the  loud moans falling past your lips. Your legs began to shake as you approached your second release. Dom pulls you close, holding you, the gentle gesture in sharp contrast with the way he’s pounding away at you.

“Please can I cum.” You whimper

“One moment,” he interrupted himself with a groan “I wanna cum with ya, love.”

You held on as best you could, melting into his grasp as he worked towards finishing himself off. Soon after he growled a barely audible “Cum.” signifying his release. You moaned against each other, Dom pulling you closer as close wasn’t close enough. He maintained his actions, riding through your orgasm with one hand in your hair and the other lovingly stroking your thigh.

“Daddy’s got you babygirl.” He whispers into your ear, hushing you as you come down from your high.

When you finally felt well enough to sit up, your muscles hurt from the strain so you and Dom decided to have a bath.

He got up to run the bath water just the way you liked it and insisted on carrying you there, because ‘You’re hurtin’ so you can’t walk.’

You didn’t mind, though, laying your head on his shoulder as he carried you princess style into the bathroom. Luckily, the boys were in their rooms with the doors closed, presumably to suppress some of the noise.

The warm watered soothed your aching as you sat with Dom behind you, his wet hands stroking your arms with his head buried in your neck while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

After that night, you didn’t think you’d ever question your relationship with Dom again.

#yungblud #yungblud smut #yungblud fic #yungblud fanfic #yungblud fanfiction #yungblud x reader #dominic harrison #dominic harrison smut #dominic harrison fic #dominic harrison fanfic #dominic harrison fanfiction #dominic harrison x reader #dominic harrison fluff #yungblud fluff #yungblud angst #dominic harrison angst #yungblud aftercare #dominic harrison aftercare

[naancypants]

maybe this is perfect

Alright here is my finalized repost of the fic I accidentally published yesterday, LOL. If you enjoy, I'd love some support on Ao3 (work link is below)! I wrote this after 2x12 (+ updated to reflect news about 2x13 & 2x15, hehe) as a sort of speculative, "personal ideal" confession scene for the finale episode.

Ao3 | 2,051 words

--------------------------

"Hey," Nancy says from behind, twisting both hands around the strap of her messenger bag. "Can we talk?"

At the sound of her voice, Ace straightens from in front of his locker. He lets out a close-mouthed sigh as the question sinks into his stomach, and when he turns towards her, the discomfort she's feeling becomes evident in her body language.

"Yeah."

A beat passes where neither makes a move.

Nancy, however, is the first to take a step, drawing in a shuddering breath. "You've been avoiding me... for a while now. Ever since the whole life-and-death thing with Daniel West. And I'm sorry that I was willing to let people die to save you. I thought you would understand, that you would've done the same thing-"

"It's not about the list," Ace cuts in with a shake of his head, "That was a long time ago."

In reality it had only been a few weeks since Nancy and Grant traded a hit list to a professional killer to spare Ace's life, but time seems to move inordinately slow in Horseshoe Bay.

"I know. But that was also the same time I called in for a favor with Celia Hudson..." she allows her sentence to drift off there, urging Ace to connect the unspoken dots.

He hadn't tried to hide his feelings on the whole Celia situation, especially whenever he and Nancy talked one-on-one; yet still, her ability to pinpoint the root of behaviors she already notices in him never fails to surprise.

"I just... wish you would have consulted me before you made a deal with the devil."

Nancy recalls a talk during which she was alone with Ace, where he'd briefly confessed his dismay at her recent dealings with the Hudson matriarch.

A string of monotone words all run together as she attempts to explain, "We already went over this, Ace. I-I-I had to figure out how to save you, there was no time to consider my options."

"Maybe it wasn't worth it."

Within a second, revulsion twists every feature on Nancy's face.

"I'm sorry, what?" she demands.

Ace doesn't elaborate. Instead he lifts his raincoat from its hook and shuts the door to his locker, staring down at the garment in his hands with a shamed expression. It isn't long before Nancy has his elbow in a firm grip.

"Hey," she convinces him to whirl around and face her. "You're worth it to me."

You're always worth it to me. You're worth everything to me. A thousand times over, she wants to say. But she doesn't.

"I guess that's my problem."

"Your problem is that I care about you?"

"I don't want to be the reason you sell your soul to the Hudsons."

Nancy blinks, her ferocity weakening as she pulls away. "Aren't I allowed to make my own choices?"

"Of course. But... that doesn't mean I have to like them."

The way he says it is so casual, so lacking in venom that it makes her stomach wrench. He doesn't realize that the only approval Nancy craves is his; she is willing to stand up against even the closest of people in her life - Nick, George, her own father - but not Ace. His opinion of her serves as a compass whenever Nancy is too tired or worn down to trust her own judgment. His opinion is the one that matters most.

"Then what do you want from me? Tell me what I can do to make it better."

It's the most fragile, the most desperate she thinks she's heard herself. Nancy Drew is independent and decisive and strong. So whose voice is it that wobbles in fear, laying down her pride in the hands of another?

If there's anything Nancy can't stand, it's being clouded over with emotion, but the tightness in her throat only warns of an oncoming flood.

"Honestly, Nancy, I don't know right now. Maybe just... help me understand why before you make these kinds of decisions. I don't want you to get hurt."

Their eyes linger for what feels like an eternity, distanced by walls that neither of them know how to tear down.

When Ace moves, he turns decisively away.

Panic beginning to swell in her chest, Nancy pushes past all the other emotions running through her mind - fear, guilt, uncertainty - and takes one last step into the room before he has the chance to get away.

"I did it because I love you."

If anything could stop him cold in his tracks, it's that particular confession. His eyes meet the floor in front of him, speechless and calculating, each second ticking by in tense silence. He turns to face her once more.

There in the center of the room she stands, the bold and courageous girl detective herself, looking smaller than ever. Her voice is barely above a whisper now, eyes in danger of spilling over, "Ace... I think I might be in love with you."

Ace stands motionless in awe, save for a swallow and quick shift of his weight.

When Nancy gets nervous she often rambles to relieve some of her tension. "I didn't know how to say it before, and I- have never actually been in love so maybe I didn't even know what I was feeling until recently, but, you were with Amanda Bobbsey and not in love with me and it's all... very confusing..."

Breath leaves her lungs as quickly as words leave her tongue, anxiety shaking her down to the core. She blinks when the self-awareness sets in; lowers her gaze to the floor for a length of awkward silence.

"Nancy."

Eventually she looks back up to find him just a few feet away now, having crossed the room sometime after she finished prattling on about nothing. His raincoat hits the bench.

"There are.. a lot of reasons why I can't do this right now." He indicates himself with a curved hand to his chest.

Though her heart sinks, Nancy's eyelids still flutter. "But you- you would? Hypothetically?"

His mouth flattens into something that's not quite a smile, eyes as earnest as ever. "It's just that... y'know, Amanda's only been gone for a week. And I don't want to lose what we have - what all of us have."

"You won't," Nancy states with a furrowed brow, "Why do you think you would lose us?"

He bobs his head a bit. "Things could get complicated between us. Especially considering... things."

"What do you mean? What kind of things?"

"Well, I'm not trying to point fingers, but... there is your track record. With relationships."

It doesn't escape her attention that he refuses to make eye contact when he says the last part. She tenses up and repeats, "My track record?"

Ace opens his mouth to soften the words, but the look on his face is enough to suffice as an apology. Nancy retreats on her own as three particular guys - Ned Nickerson, Owen Marvin and Gil Bobbsey - flash through her mind's eye. Guys she had used as a distraction, a rebound, and a means of sexual gratification, all of which Ace witnessed firsthand from the sidelines.

"Yeah I deserve that, don't I," she says quietly.

"No, you don't. That part's fine. It's about everything else."

"Everything else being the Hudsons, Amanda, and losing what we have."

He offers only a nod. Draws in a breath. "Nancy, I want to love you too. And I'm not saying that I don't, but..." his voice breaks, just a bit, but enough for Nancy to notice.

"...It's not the right time," she finishes for him with a resigned nod; "yeah," under her breath.

This time it's Nancy who won't meet Ace's eyes. She darts them all across the room in avoidance, lips pursing together. "I'm- I'm sorry. This is.. not really who I am and I probably shouldn't have said anything to begin with, but-"

"No - no, don't apologize," Ace says with the usual gentle firmness and a slight tilt of his head. "I'm glad you said something. Really glad. In fact, um, if you're not opposed... there is something I wouldn't mind trying before you go off to Columbia."

"Ha. Who says I'm getting into Columbia?" she asks sardonically, crossing her arms.

Ace gives a subtle grin of support. "You'll get into Columbia."

She stops to consider his words, but then emits a soft chuckle, smiling gratefully at her best friend as though there were no mistakes, no confession of feelings, no heartbreak to contend with.

Time drags on as his vague statement from before remains unaccounted for, though almost as if pulled by gravity, there's a mutual instinct that draws them closer together.

Along with instinct, however, is hesitation - a slowness in the way they line themselves up, a caution in the way they read each others' eyes. Gradually his hands find their way to her jawline and before she knows it, in stark contrast to their prior pace, her back is up against metal with the most satisfying warmth she's ever known on her lips.

Nancy's entire body lights on fire, so much that it takes a dazed moment before she is able to react. Her eyebrows lift as she takes full advantage of the moment, kissing him back with the fervor of months worth of pent-up feelings all finally coming to surface; hands crawl upwards from his arms, to his shoulders, and eventually land on either side of his neck.

For a few rapturous seconds, they allow themselves to melt entirely into each other with the realization that things won't be like this again for a while; not until they're able to overcome the doubts, the obstacles, the emotional walls that they both know would cause more harm than good if they were to pursue this now.

Maybe this is perfect. Maybe one kiss - one blissful, ravenous taste of just what it is they're missing out on is enough to satiate their appetites for the time being and prepare them for what's to come.

With one last surge forward, hands sliding down his chest, Nancy realizes that kissing Ace never felt this good in her dreams.

Then, sooner rather than later, it's over.

Though their lips disconnect, everything else remains. A breathless minute comes and goes before either have any words to speak.

"Are you- are you sure you don't want to change your mind?" Nancy finally asks through her teeth, eyes drifting down to his mouth more than once.

A smirk tugs at his face as he steps back, hands remaining on Nancy's forearms for perhaps a touch longer than necessary. "Few more of those and I might."

Nancy gives a wistful giggle, using her shoulders to launch herself away from the lockers right when her phone buzzes.

Ace watches with curiosity as she opens her latest text notification, but waits silently to be filled in.

"It's George. She says they're waiting for us at their place," Nancy murmurs with her brow lowered, looking at Ace for a potential answer to her confusion.

Rarely one to disappoint, Ace nods in recognition. "Oh yeah, they took it upon themselves to reschedule game night. I was supposed to tell you."

Nancy raises her eyebrows in good spirit. "Ah. Well, I'm sure glad you told me in plenty of time."

"Come to think of it, Bess pretty much insisted I be the one to tell you. The whole thing must've been a ruse."

Nancy shrugs. "Eh, you know what they say. What's done is done." she waits a beat before thumbing towards the back door over her shoulder. "Join me?"

"Yeah," Ace agrees as he grabs his raincoat and the pair start walking out. "Yeah but I have to warn you, none of what just transpired is going to have any affect on how badly I demolish you in Absurd Code Word."

"Wow, Ace, I think you're underestimating my game night abilities. Have you ever seen me in Absurd Code Word?"

"Don't need to."

"I see. Is it because I'm a girl?"

"C'mon, Nancy. You know me better than that."

The ease with which they're able to shift gears serves as a delicate reminder of how intrinsically they are connected; of the level of comfort and stability within their potential when the time is right.

Whenever that may be.

#nace #nancy x ace #ace x nancy #nancy drew cw #cw nancy drew #nancy drew #cwnd #cwnd spoilers #my writing

[ka-writes]

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Notes: First of all... thank you so much for the support!!

Second, space vocab: starling: young unidentified species ISF: intergalactic safety force

Anyways, take care of yourself <3!

——————

Warning: flashbacks to abuse, if needed skip past any italicized words, mentions of child labor exploitation (Someone forces Tommy to steal), attempting to drug character, cussing, kidnapping, fear.

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Incase you missed:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 5:

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

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Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33147661/chapters/82290709

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Chapter 6: Causing Chaos

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Planet Amari was their next stop. It would take only four hours to get there and usually this would be no problem if they weren’t harboring a human. Let alone the human that had just escaped the Dream Team Ship.

Phil shook his head and focused on the increased security around the boarding docks.

Amair is a planet whose only purpose is to entertain, meaning they already have some of the best security in this part of the galaxy. The added security came directly from the ISF and were now searching suspicious ships.

“Check check, one two.” The microphone turned green, “As your captain it is my duty to warn you about extra security measures. The ISF is boarding ships and checking for abnormalities. Please complete protocol 35.0.” Phil spoke into the mic and waited for everyone’s confirmation.

He got up and started the process of taking maps and blueprints that were not available to the public along with future plans and hid them in a document compartment behind one of his shelves. He then changed his normal illusion monitor and changed it to the default screen.

He stepped out of the cabin and cleaned the surrounding area, while also checking for anything that could be confiscated.

“Tommy. In order to go onto the planet I need you to wear this.”Wilbur confronted.

“No! It looks like one of those serial killer masks!! My face is too beautiful to be hidden.” Tommy scoffed.

“Tommy if you don’t wear it willingly, I will tell Ranboo about-“ Wilbur was cut off by a series of curses and Tommy fiddling the mask around his face. “Good. Put this on too.” Wilbur handed the blonde a bundle of clothes and made his way to the lab. Phil chuckled at the brotherly bond that was already forming.

He made his way down to the lab checking for abnormalities before seeping back to the holding cell. The human was pulling at his clothes while packing things back into the shelf.

“Hello mate! Whatcha doing there?” Phil asked, casually. What he didn’t expect was the human to practically jump out of his clothes in the captain’s presence.

“W-who are you?” Tommy stammered, Phil had completely forgotten he had never introduced himself before.

“Oh! I forgot we haven’t formally met. My name is Captain Philza Mine Craft, but you can call me Phil or Philza, whichever you prefer. I use he/him pronouns and am the legal captain of the SBI Craft.” Phil finished his introduction with an easy confidence, even with the face mask you could easily see the kid’s wonder, “We are currently waiting for a formal check from the ISF.” The human tensed at that, “So if you would please follow me to the common room, so I may hide the holding cell.” The human nodded vigorously.

Once Phil had dropped Tommy off in the common room he made his way to the holding cell. With a few clicks and checks the holding cell made a perfect illusion wall, which molded it into the wall not to be seen by any inspectors or gadgets they may have.

Once he had gotten confirmations from all crew members, he made his way back to the pilot’s cabin. If they were even a minute slower with preparations, security would have deemed the ship suspicious.

They settled the ship at the checkpoint and waited for a security officer to signal them.

——————

Wilbur’s leg bounced anxiously as he wore his disguise. He had finished briefing Tommy about the plan. They would lie about their origins, Wilbur doing the talking, and would get what they needed and get out.

The only thing anyone was waiting on was the guard.

Almost on queue the door began to open and a young starling stood at the door. He seemed to be genetically engineered and had wires attached to his head and 3D glasses.

“Hello everyone! My name is Jack Manifold, and I will be checking your ship!” The starling chirped, “I hope you have both we have to confiscate, because everyone here seems like lovely people. I have to ask where is your captain?”

“Right here mate.” Philza said, stepping out of the pilot cabin. “I am Captain Philza Mine Craft, of the SBI Craft. Feel free to look around.” Phil said with a hint of impatience. Jack didn’t seem to notice and made his way around the Craft.

Everyone sitting in the common room shared a few nervous glances. The only one who seemed oddly comfortable was Tubbo.. Wilbur took note of the behavior and tried to busy himself with the magazine he was holding...

When did he get a magazine?

He was immersed in an article about room design when Jack returned.

“Everything seems to be in order! The only thing I ask is that everyone introduces themselves.” His tone turned serious as he looked at the crew.

“My name is Technoblade. I am the security officer on this ship and second in command.” Techno said without faltering in tone.

“I am Ranboo. I am Technoblade’s hired assistant and do most chores around the ship.” Ranboo said clearly anxious with the attention on them.

“Tubbo, I am a hired gardener and take care of food supplies and medical ingredients.” There was a coldness to Tubbo’s voice as he finished his introduction.

“Dr. Craft, I am a toxicologist. This is my medical student, Tommy, he doesn’t talk much.” There was a suspicious glint in Jack’s eye as Wilbur continued, “We have been working for this crew for two months, before that we were traveling on our own licensed craft.” Jack accepted the answer and finished checking his notepad off.

“Alright, that will be all then! Welcome to Amari! Once I give this report to my manager, you should be able to enter the atmosphere!” With that the cheery starling left the ship and Phil closed the door before disappearing into the pilots cabin.

To say Wilbur was relieved was an understatement.

——————

Things were falling into place.

Once they were on the planet all Tubbo would have to do is add the substance to one of Tommy’s drinks and he would be acting out in no time!

But is it worth it?

He pushed the thought out of his head and finished packing the small packet in his bag before getting off the ship with the rest of the crew.

“Before we head to the shopping center, why don’t we stop by Las Nevada’s? I mean it’s Tommy’s first time on Amari after all.” Tubbo said. Las Nevada’s is the most well known restaurant and casino in Amari. It was the perfect place for Tubbo to start his plan.

“I don’t see why not. Just stay in the restaurant bit, we don’t want to draw any more attention to ourselves.” Phil answered.

With that the group walked into one of the best and worst places in the city, though no one knew of the worst bit yet…

——————

They sat around a booth compartment. It had soft red padding and purple looking palm trees, without the coconuts.

It reminded Tommy of a stereotypical mafia restaurant. Something Tommy never got the privilege of seeing.

It made him very uncomfortable, especially when the waitress gave them drinks in glass cups. He felt like whatever he touched would instantly shatter into a billion pieces.

Techno was taking Ranboo to the bathroom and Phil and Will were talking to a waitress leaving only Tommy and the scary bee boy . alone.

“I told you I was done Miranda!!” A man shouted from a nearby table causing Tommy’s attention to be focused on the couple fighting.

“You had one job. And you failed it boy.” A man slapped his face.

He was in his third foster home again. They had asked him to get at least $50 from people on the subway, he had only managed to score $20, and the man was furious.

“You’re lucky I see potential, otherwise you’d be back in that goddamn group home.” Tommy’s eyes dropped yo the floor, another slap and a hand grabbing his chin to look at the man, “PAY ATTENTION TO ME BOY. I saved you from that hell hole and I can take you back.” The man sneered. Honestly Tommy would rather be there than here.

“Hey!” Wilbur snapped in front of his face, “You with us?” Tommy nodded. The couple was gone and everyone returned. Now Ranboo and Wilbur were sitting next to him and Tubbo was sitting next to Ranboo. Did bee-boy always look so guilty?

After a minute of awkward silence, Phil and Techno started talking, their voices drowned out by the surrounding noise. Wilbur had turned his attention to his menu and Ranboo was writing in his book again.

Tommy reached for his water and Tubbo turned his attention to the human. The mask he was wearing had a flap so he could easily breathe, eat, and drink. He took a sip of water….. was water supposed to be this sweet?

“Why the fuck would someone put sugar in water as a prank?” Tommy mumbled, everyone’s attention was on the human again, “What?” He asked defensively.

“Did you say sugar?” Wilbur asked as if it was the craziest thing he had ever heard.

“Umm… yea?” Tommy said. We’re these people pulling a prank on him? Why was everyone looking at him like that?

“Tommy, can you give me your water?” Wilbur asked, he was genuinely confused by the reactions. After a few seconds he gave his water to Wilbur who immediately took a sip and spit it out.

“What the fuck?!” Tommy asked as Wilbur gave him the water back.

“That is definitely sugar.. Tommy do you feel weird at all?” He asked.

“Erm no?” This was getting stranger and stranger.

“So humans are immune to sugar…” Will said as if it was a scientific breakthrough.

“Yea? Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Well for one, most species go absolutely crazy after eating sugar, for some it could lead to death.” Tubbo informed. He looked even more confused than Tommy felt.

“So like, aliens go psycho when they eat sugar? That’s lame.” Tommy laughed out the last line. Everyone looked at him with concerned glances, “I don’t think I am gonna go psycho after drinking a small bit of sugar water, I mean most people have been eating sugar their entire lives, me being one of ‘em.” Tommy finished and the underlying tension died down. Well except Tubbo’s which felt more like an angry glare meant to affect him in some way.

When the waitress came everyone gave their orders, Wilbur supplying Tommy’s. The rest of the meal was comfortable, with Phil telling stories and the rest supplying jokes and chatter, along with the occasional glare from Tubbo.

To be honest Tommy had never felt so comfortable around anyone before, he wanted so badly to let down his wall around these people. Still there was that annoying voice that told him not to trust them. For once he didn’t listen to it.

I mean what could go wrong?

——————

The plan failed. Shit.

Tubbo was mad. Not just mad, furious.

The others were having fun with the human, yet again. Tubbo had wandered off, he wanted to destroy everything, and yet he simply walked off without a second glance. He could feel the tears streaming down his face.

“Hello bee-boy!” The human scared the droneling, his ears falling flat against his head.

“I am not in the mood to talk.” Tubbo sniffed.

“Oh..” The human’s tone dropped, it was almost as if it was hurt by Tubbo’s words. “That’s alright big-man! We don’t have to talk.” The human settled with that response, with that the pair walked through the busy street in silence. Tubbo tried to throw the human off his trail but gave up after a few minutes.

After fifteen minutes of them wandering around Tubbo spotted a shop and made his way over to the electronic shop. The human followed him into the small store.

It was a small shop with tight isles and jazz music filling the silence. At the register a tall creeper hybrid fiddled with a redstone contraption. Tubbo paid no mind to him and turned his attention to some of the smaller devices scattered throughout the shop. The human shifted nervously behind him.

Once Tubbo found what he was looking for he took it over to the register. Another man stood behind it along with the original one. His eyes shifted to Tommy.

“Are you sure that’s him?” The original man asked, his name tag reading Sam.

“Yes, positive. Dream will be happy with this.” The other man replied, he stretched one of his fingerless black gloves and turned towards the pair. “Hi. I am assuming you have my boss’s patient?” The black hair man asked. He was a blazeling and had a cruel glint to his eye.

Without warning another man came up behind them and slapped a cloth over both of their faces. Within seconds the pair was out and everything went black.

He woke up in a cage.

——————

Chapter 6- End

Words: 2206

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Notes: The next bit will be hard to write ;-; but then we get to the fluffy-angst :D

Also this was harder to write... motivation went poof, but I won’t quit on you!!

<3

——————

Tubbo: *tries to cause chaos—fails

Tubbo: *wanders into a random shop—causes chaos

Tubbo: .-. Wtf

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Chapter 7:

#dream smp fanfiction #my fanfic tag #my writing #tommy mcyt #wilbur soot #philza #ranboo #reblog #sbi au #space au #tubbo #techno #chaos #;-; #humans are space orcs

[ladyinbooks]

So on ao3 juiceboxoverlord mentioned ‘ And the way Hess is so enamoured with Dan's emotions and ideology like I bet that if they had never met Hess would still fall in love with Dan on the battlefield probably.’

We all know I have an absolute, terrible weakness for this kind of thing, so I really, really couldn’t resist.

So have a mini AU.

Title: Such Violent Delights Pairing: Hess/Daniel Summary: The Antichrist and the Righteous Man meet on a battlefield. Warning: Some minor descriptions of violence/death; dub-con kissing (I mean, it’s Hess...); Hess POV

These violent delights have violent ends.

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder.

Which, as they kiss, consume.

- 'Romeo and Juliet', William Shakespeare

Hess should have seen the ambush coming.

They have been doing so well recently, in their push against Heaven. More territory has fallen to them, more people persuaded by their promises, their ideas.

He should have known it would be too good to last.

The sharp crack as he twists his hand and snaps three necks, reminds him of nothing so much as the splintering of wet wood. Around him the sounds of the dead and the dying are a cacophony, topped by Abaddon's voice bellowing orders.

The bone-white of her hair is visible at the edge of his eyeline. In her suit she is still immaculate, barking at Raum and Asmodeus as she directs his troops like the General she is.

It makes him smile – makes him bare his teeth at the next angel that tries to rush him, as he extends a hand.

That terrible, tearing sensation down his arm; a light so bright that even he almost shields his eyes. He gets a hand on the angel's wrist and pulls.

There is the searing crackle of holy flesh; the unholy sound of an angelic voice raised in a scream. The noise is enough to make the humans around him flinch back, pressing hands to their ears, in a desperate attempt to block out the death of a small piece of the fabric of the universe.

Hess ignores the shriek, and the white hot pain cracking through his finger bones. He smiles, bloodied teeth and wicked intent, and drops the carcass to the floor.

He’s distracted, unfocused, and so it is instinct that saves him, nothing more.

The sharp prickle of intent at the nape of his neck, and he sidesteps just in time to avoid a blade to the back.

He pivots; lashes out and catches the next down-swing with a scrap of shadow.

For a moment, all he can focus on is the sharp steel of the blade centimetres from his throat. The line of it is bright, burning; the runes inscribed on it are holy enough they almost make his eyes water.

A blessed blade.

He only knows one person who would carry such a thing.

He sidesteps again in time to avoid the second blade aiming to bury itself in his gut. One, two, three heartbeats, and he draws in a deep breath.

Enough, he thinks, and the word is broadcast out.

Everything shudders to a halt.

Painfully, grinding and unnatural, the world stills around him.

He doesn't often do this – doesn't often have the inclination or the energy – but sometimes there is a need for it. An itch, just to walk in a frozen reality where there are no demands on him. No threats.

“Let me go,” someone says, harsh, and Hess smiles.

He knows who the Righteous Man is, of course. He's seen Daniel Waters in reports and later – when Heaven sank their perfect claws into him – on screen and in newspapers. Images of him plastered everywhere: saviour, hero, madman.

“A little lost lamb,” he says, and hears the sharp intake of breath.

When he turns to look, Daniel Waters is still too. He's not frozen though – not like every other wretched creature in this blood-soaked field. He's bound, arms strung out by Hess's power.

And in spite of that, he's still fighting.

Tall, strong; a sharp jawline and an undeniable presence. Eyes filled with the burning silver fire of heaven, smoking with purity and determination as he wades against Hess's darkness. A battered leather jacket and scuffed up jeans. Mankind's saviour.

Daniel manages a step, then another, muscles straining as he claws his way forward. His teeth are bared as he snarls, and for one moment Hess honestly wonders if he's about to break free.

“Let me go,” he repeats, and his voice is firm and clear.

It makes Hess want to ruin him.

Blood-soaked and perfect, this creature – this man – is the image of bitter triumph; a holy sacrament, born to suffer at the hands of those who would use him. Made to fight anyway, because he's good. Because he cares.

“Why should I?” he asks, and watches the way Daniel doesn't falter.

“So I can kill you.”

And it's –

Delightful. Wonderful. It makes Hess's heartbeat skip in a way it hasn't for a long, long time.

“Well aren't you a sweet thing,” he says, just to watch the way those eyes flare brighter.

It makes him smile; makes him lick the blood from his teeth as he thinks of war and ruination, and all he could wreak on this perfect, violent creature.

Another painful step, the footfall as heavy as the centre of the earth. Daniel is closer now, arms still bound, but near enough that Hess can see the scattered imperfections of him.

A small nick at the corner of his jaw, long since scarred. The tendons of his neck as he strains, desperate, against the ropes Hess has bound him with. Blond hair, so dark it's almost brown, cropped short enough that Hess probably couldn't get a good grip of it. A perfect, snarling mouth, and a dusting of days-old stubble.

For a moment Hess wonders what colour his eyes were, before he became this pawn. This holy weapon. Were they brown, or green, or blue? Would they look at him in the same way?

Movement, and Daniel's foot lashes out. The heel of it manages to catch Hess's shin. It hits hard enough to hurt, and for a moment he falters.

Nothing has come close enough to injure him since the Before, and his concentration shatters.

The roar Daniel lets loose is triumphant as he breaks free. He lunges forward, slamming into Hess. His swords clatter to the grass, but his momentum doesn't stop.

They fall to the ground in a tangle of limbs, calloused fingers wrapping hard around Hess's throat, squeezing.

The weight of him is perfect; the heat and strength of his body a paradise Hess hasn't felt in a long, long time.

It makes him laugh, breathless, and for a moment the grip of those hands on his neck fails.

He moves - fast and terrible enough that Daniel's lip is splitting under his knuckles before he can recover from the shock. The force of it snaps Daniel's head back, and the impact shudders up Hess's arm.

He twists and they roll, scrabbling against one another until Daniel is flat on his back, Hess gripping his wrists, pressing them above his head into the mud. His fingernails are digging in, and he watches the way something flares and dies in Daniel's eyes; in the way he tries to bring a leg up, to fight against the weight of Hess across his thighs.

“Stay still, sweet thing,” Hess says, and can't help the way he leans down, leans closer. “You don't want to make me angry.”

Daniel growls beneath him, dangerous and not at all subdued. “I don't give a fuck about making you angry.”

“You should.”

The softness of Daniel's lips is a shock; the sharp inhalation of his breath a symphony. The warmth of his mouth is a victory. The taste of his blood lingers on the back of Hess's tongue, as he smiles against the Righteous Man's mouth.

He wants this, and he wants this, and he wants this.

The perfect way to get back at Heaven. To tear them down, one sanctimonious, inane figurehead at a time.

Except –

Except –

A pulse, against the pad of his thumb, thundering in time with his own heartbeat. The sharp, vicious sensation of teeth sinking into his lower lip, and Hess sighs at the feel of it.

Daniel is solid heat beneath him, tangible and human. The way he moves, the strength of him – pressed but not contained – makes an ugliness stir in Hess's chest. The first, icy crack of something threatening to splinter wide.

When he pulls back, Daniel is watching him.

“What –” he begins, and his voice is breathless. “What was –”

And this is what Hess wants. This. Those hazel eyes wide – not silver, not silver, not silver – and Heaven's champion strung out beneath him.

It's not a victory, he realises. Not even close. It's a weakness. A terrible, vicious longing to carve his way deep into this man's chest; to work out all the ways he could be a sinner. To pull him down, because he can. Because he wants to.

Because he can't think of anything else.

Daniel is tense beneath him, watching, waiting. For a moment his gaze slides sideways, snagging on something in the grass less than a foot away, and Hess smiles because he knows exactly what's going on in that angry, clever mind.

“You won't reach them,” he says, low and sweet. “By the time you tried to pick up the first blade, I'd have you weighted down in so many chains that the earth would swallow you whole.”

Daniel sets his jaw. “And if it took me a lifetime to claw my way back up and kill you, I would.”

He means it utterly, and the sincerity of him is thrilling.

This is the only person who can come close to understanding what it is like to stand with a hand on both sides of the scale and weigh destiny. The only one who understands the need for sacrifice; to acknowledge that the old world needs tearing down for a new one to rise.

Blood-soaked and dangerous, and the moment Hess lets him go, he's going to try and tear them both apart.

“Daniel,” he says. Then, “Sweet thing. Angelic fury. Heaven's weapon. Duty and righteousness and honour.”

“Shut up.” The flex of Daniel's fingers, the push back against Hess's grip, and it's nearly enough to unseat him. “Don't you dare –”

He's a killer through and through. Hess can see it, writ deep in the core of his soul. He kills because he has to; because it's right. He protects, and saves, and bleeds for a million souls that will never thank him for it.

And he's perfect.

“I could do so much with you,” Hess says, wondering. “The things we could accomplish.” It's a dream, sweet and tempting. He looks down, sees the slide to silver and smiles.

“But I won't,” he adds. “Because that would ruin you.”

“When I get up,” Daniel says slowly, “I'm going to slit your throat.”

“You're going to try,” Hess says, and hears the terrible adoration in his own voice; the soft fondness he shouldn't have. “But at the moment you're at my mercy.”

He tilts down again; watches the way Daniel tips up a little, without even realising. Sees the way those lips part on a slow, measured inhalation and the dark cut of Daniel's lashes, as for a moment he lets himself be moulded to Hess's will.

What he could do. What he wants to do to this man. It would take decades. Millennia.

“Beg,” he says against the soft, vulnerable skin of Daniel's temple.

Teeth at his ear, and he can feel the slow, careful snarl of those lips. The barely contained rage and want beating through sanctified veins. It makes him shiver.

“Go on,” he adds quietly; a savage demand.

A sharp twist, and he lets one of Daniel's wrists go; feels fingers sink into his hair and pull, twining them closer. The pain of it is a thing of beauty, and he smiles at the way he is going to be pulled apart, one atom at a time, for want of this man.

And Daniel draws back; turns his head a little until they are increments from a kiss, breathing the same air.

“You first,” he says.

#Path to Paradise #Hespherus Jones #Daniel Waters #Ficlet Fridays