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#i shall fix this
crystalmagpie447 · 4 months
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wwhyyy did i forget how to animate
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notherpuppet · 11 days
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Still chipping away at Part 7, sometimes one panel takes 3 hours and 8 redraws of the same face 😀
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zephyrchama · 1 month
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"What did Mammon do now?"
The greedy demon was in his underwear, hanging upside down from a rafter in the hallway. He tried to coerce you into letting him down as you walked by, but you knew better than to do so without consulting Lucifer.
"Gambling. The usual." Lucifer had a hand on his forehead, pushing his hair up while jotting something down at his desk.
"Mammon gambles every day," you pointed out. "What'd he really do?"
By the way Lucifer groaned, you knew it was something juicy. "I caught him pilfering one of my rarest records, a gift from Diavolo, to use as collateral in a bet. It's one-of-a-kind. I doubt he even knows what it is, but Mammon always has a knack for finding things of high value."
"His secret sixth sense," you agreed. "What'd you do with his clothes?"
"They make it harder to tie him up tightly. He has a slightly higher chance of wiggling free with clothes on, so I made him strip." Lucifer gestured, Mammon's clothes had been put on some kind of mannequin, tucked away in the space between two bookshelves.
You'd never seen it before. Your jaw dropped into the widest half-smile half-astonished expression possible. It had Mammon's hair and his goofy smile. Even a flashy golden earring. "What is that?"
You practically ran across the room to inspect it. It was dressed properly in Mammon's shirt and tie. There were a lot of seams, more than seemed necessary, perhaps from being repeatedly repaired over years of use. "Lucifer, this is adorable."
"It's a necessary tool for my sanity." He pushed the chair back, standing up to join you.
"What do you mean?"
"I'll give you a demonstration."
Lucifer comically wound up his closed fist. With ballistic force, he struck the figure right in its chest. It flopped back, then sprung back up wildly to receive a fistful of lighter blows from Lucifer.
"You made a Mammon punching bag? Really?" You didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Isn't that a bit much?"
"I didn't make it, Mammon did."
Surprise of the day number two. "Mammon made this? Himself?"
To stop the wobbling, Lucifer grabbed the punching bag's tie, pulling it tight and then smoothing it out. "Cute, right? He thought it might make me go easy on future punishments. It's a very thoughtful gift from my little brother."
"Yeah, I didn't know he could sew. Huh." The two of you stood to admire it before Lucifer returned to his desk. You followed him. "Kind of reminds me of the doll Levi made of me."
Lucifer smiled. "Leviathan made you a doll, did he? How very kind."
"No, he made a doll of me."
Lucifer froze to process this information, frowning.
You continued, "I don't know where he usually keeps it, but I saw it under his desk one time. It's pretty big and detailed. I mentioned it once and offered to lend him a shirt for it, but he got really embarrassed and pushed me out. He's gotta take more pride in his work, it was really impressive."
"I see." Lucifer gritted his teeth. "You know, something I have to do just came up. Let's finish this conversation later." He was quietly seething as he escorted you to the door. Along the way he gave punching-bag Mammon a soft whack to the head.
You realized you forgot to ask if you could untie the real Mammon, but Lucifer had already marched down the hall in the direction of Leviathan's room. Rather than trying to catch up, you decided to go see how the Avatar of Greed was doing.
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brotherly-lov3 · 1 month
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I'm hyperfixating on ducks show help
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elation-station · 1 year
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You know she would be parading around in a different fancy outfit everyday just to show off to the farmer ♥
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blindmagdalena · 1 year
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imagine being hired by vought to be a sort of housekeeper to homelander, doing his laundry and cooking for him in his penthouse. he’d immediately grow to love having someone to come home to, and would automatically slip into husband mode whenever he finds them doing him some wifely act of service (conveniently ignoring the fact they’re paid to be there, of course)
ao3 link
Working for Vought, specifically Homelander, turns out to be an insanely simple gig. Typically, you never even see him. You're free to do your cleaning in peace, picking up after America's favorite hero. He rarely ever leaves a mess, but there's enough to keep you employed. Tidying up his towels, replacing his hygiene supplies and tooth brushes. You're trained specifically on how to clean his suits. You empty and stock the fridge. He goes through a lot of milk. You always make sure to get whole. He lodged a complaint the one time it was less than. You were told initially that your cooking services wouldn't be necessary. Homelander isn't known to be, well... much of an eater.
Still, you didn't want the food you stocked at the start to go bad, so one day you prepare a few meals and put them in containers in the fridge. You include little notes with instructions on how they should be reheated. You sign each one with a little heart simply because that's how you've always done it, and pin them to the fridge. You think nothing of it. Homelander is dumbstruck by it.
At first he's affronted that you would leave him cold food in his fridge and expect him to heat it up for himself, but there's something distinctly... loving about it. Coming home to his laundry clean and his shelves dusted never felt like that. It was nothing more than a reset, an automatic process that he didn't dedicate any thought to. But this? This is personal. This reminds him that a living, breathing person was in his home, tending to it, and that person... cooked him a meal, and left him a little note. With a heart.
The next morning you get a text that you will indeed be cooking for Homelander that evening! You're in the midst of it, staying later than you usually do, when he walks in the door. You aren't making anything fancy, just steak and mashed potatoes, but he sucks in a breath like he's inhaling the scent of a gourmet meal. His smile is broad and gleaming. It makes your heart skip a beat.
To your surprise, he introduces himself. He shakes your hand firmly, and holds your stare as you remember your manners and manage to spit out your own name. "Charmed," he says through that radiant smile, and you feel like he means it. His eyes are somehow much bluer in person. His gaze flickers to the stove, and he clicks his tongue. "Not to question your craft, but is this really enough for two?" Looking at the steak currently searing, you falter. "Oh, I'm sorry, are you having company? No one told me." "Well of course I'm having company, you silly goose. You're standing right here, aren't you?" He asks, putting his hands on his hips. It's cheesy, like a moment straight out of a sitcom, but you fluster anyways. This man has such presence to him.
"You... want me to eat with you?" You ask, bewildered.
"Be a shame to cook up a storm and not even feel the rain," he laughs, as if you're the one thinking strangely here. He's already gone to the fridge, and pulled out a second steak. He offers it out to you with that same charming television ready grin. "C'mon. I can hear your stomach growling."
Tentatively, you take the package from him. "Okay."
That night, and each night that follows, you cook Homelander a meal at the tail-end of your shift, and sit down to eat with him. It's surreal, but after the second night, it occurs to you that you've never once seen sign of him having company. There's never extra dishes, or towels. No remnants of a party in the trash. If he does have friends, they're certainly never here.
You can't help but wonder if he's lonely. The thought humanizes him from the larger than life image you had of him in your mind, and you have an easier and easier time engaging him in conversation. He's funny, if not a little strange. There are times when you don't really know how to respond to the things he says, but he often moves on quickly enough to keep things from being awkward.
Truth be told, you're starting to quite enjoy his company.
Homelander begins showing up earlier and earlier into your shifts. The next week, it's barely after 4:00pm when he strides through the door, greeting you with a chipper, "Heya!" and a little salute.
You turn off the vacuum, and despite being a little caught off guard, you smile at him. For the first time, you say, "Welcome home!"
For a second, you worry you've said something wrong. That smile slips off his face, and he stands frozen a touch too long in the doorway. However, before you can add an amendment, his lips stretch back out and he closes the door behind him. "Good to be home," he says. There's less of that showmanship in his voice, you think.
"I didn't know you'd be home so early, I haven't finished-" "Oh, don't mind me, you do your thing. Pretend I'm not even here," he insists, taking a seat on his couch.
You expect him to occupy himself in some way. A book, perhaps, or even just his cellphone. Instead, for the next hour you're keenly aware of the fact the only thing he seems to be entertaining himself with is you.
After that, you cook dinner as usual, and the two of you eat amidst pleasant, casual conversation. It's the same as any other night, and yet somehow this evening feels distinctly different. You can't name exactly what it is, but something has changed.
Homelander begins filling out your time with new requests; he's suddenly become quite fascinated with plants. You had mentioned to him before that you like to keep them, despite the work they take. Your shifts grow longer to account for your new tasks.
All the while, he's been more and more present during your shifts. Although he doesn't directly take or distract you from your chores, you're always keenly aware of of his gaze on you while you work. You try not to overthink it, but the weight of his attention is heavy nonetheless.
One day, you're sweeping up a mess of spilled dirt, struggling to maneuver around the legs of a piece of furniture, when Homelander hops up to intervene. "Let me get that for you, sweetheart," he says, lifting the entire cabinet up as if it weighed nothing at all.
You lose yourself for a moment, standing dumbfounded before abruptly remembering to sweep the dirt out from under it, your heart racing. Your mind keeps replaying the pet name, and with every echo of it, your cheeks feel redder. Homelander smiles, watching you all the while. The next day, you arrive to find an enormous bouquet of roses sitting in a vase on the kitchen counter. There's a note with your name on it, and a simple message: Thanks for all your hard work. Keep it up! The note is signed with Homelander's sprawling signature. Smiling widely to yourself, you tuck the note into your pocket, and lean in to inhale the sweet smell of the flowers. On another occasion, it's time to clean the blades of the ceiling fan in his room, but you can't find that darn step ladder anywhere. Homelander must hear the way you're shuffling around and muttering under your breath—you swear the man hears everything—because he steps in to check on you. "Everything alright in here?" He asks, peeking in from the doorway. "Oh, fine, fine, I just can't find my step ladder anywhere. Have you seen it?" You ask, feeling flustered. Getting put behind schedule never fails to trip a thread of anxiety in your chest. "Can't say I have," he answers, stepping inside. He looks around the room. "What'cha need it for?" "Ceiling fan. Uhm, it's okay, I'll get to it later, if that's alright with you? I'm sorry, I could have sworn I left that ladder-" You stop yourself, realizing Homelander is suddenly striding directly towards you. Uncertain, you begin to take a step back, but he's fast. He puts an arm around you, and without warning you're being hoisted up into his arms as easily as a doll.
"Up y'go," he says, supporting not only your weight with ease, but resting you snug against his chest. You squeeze your knees together, arms pulled in tight, as if making yourself tiny will somehow protect you from the embarrassing quicken of your breath, or the rampant beat of your heart. "There you go. Who needs a step ladder when you've got me?" He asks, grinning down at you with that familiar dazzling spread of pearly whites. His smile feels better suited to a Hollywood audience than this quiet little moment, but the only thing you can really focus on is the fresh, woodsy smell of his cologne. "Uhm, I-I still don't think I can reach-" You stop, noticing the ceiling fan is now within arms reach. "Oh." Looking down, your eyes widen. Neither of your feet are touching the ground. Instead, Homelander is hovering well above it, holding you adjacent to the fan. You can't help the nervous laughter that suddenly bubbles out of you. "Oh my god," you laugh, looking around. "You're flying!" "As I'm known to do from time to time," he says, voice dripping with satisfaction. His gloved fingers tap absently at your waist, basking in your awe over what is, to him, a wholly unremarkable feat. The sheer normalcy of you makes his every move seem a marvel. He savors your wonder. You're so enamored with the novelty of it, you remember belatedly why you're up here. Clearing your throat, you reach up with the duster, and gently spin the fan, collecting the strands of dust and the like that had gathered on each one. You try your damnedest to focus on that, and not the fact Homelander's face is less than a foot from yours. Out of your peripheral, you can see that his grin has softened into a content, absent smile. Your stomach does cartwheels as you finish dusting the fan, bringing the duster back down. You clear your throat again, pretending it's not a nervous habit. "All done, thank you," you say quietly, smiling back at him.
"Any time, sweetheart," Homelander purrs. There it is again, that coy little nickname that sends your mind into a tizzy. As if that weren't bad enough, he winks at you, floating gently back down to the ground. Your legs feel so much like jelly, you worry you'll collapse the moment you're on your feet. Luckily, even once he's set you down, he leaves a hand lingering on your back. "You got a thing with heights? Your heart's pounding," he points out, much to your mortification. You try to laugh it off. "Oh, no! No, just wasn't expecting it. I'm fine with heights," you say, fumbling with the duster for a second before slipping it back into the cover. "Good," Homelander responds, an oddly cryptic depth to his tone. His smile lingers. "That's good. Alrighty, I'll leave you to it," he says, tipping his head in a polite little nod before he heads for the door, leaving you to your own devices, and the rapid fluttering in your stomach. Later that same day, you're thoroughly perplexed when you spot the step ladder exactly where it's supposed to be, certain you had checked there a dozen times over.
Two weeks from the day you first shared a meal, he presents you with a gift after dinner. "Oh, sir, you shouldn't-" "Please, please! Don't be so formal. It's just a little thing," he says, waving his hand dismissively. "Y'know, to show my appreciation. You take such good care of me. Just wanted to return the favor." Butterflies swarm rampant in your gut as you tug loose the pretty red ribbon tied around the box. Uncertain of what to expect, you feel a measure of relief when you lift the lid, and see a lovely apron folded inside it. "You wear this print a lot, figured you could use something, you know, matchy. Feminine," he says, gesturing vaguely with his hand. "Your other one's seen better days."
You exhale a soft laugh, touching the fabric. It's soft beneath your fingers, and of excellent quality. The gift is a thoughtful one, and it feels appropriate, despite what the expensive looking wrapping made you think. "You like it?" He asks after a beat, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I do! Yes, thank you. It's very nice. I've enjoyed working for you, sir—" You stop when he points a finger at you, his brows raised, and you correct, "—Homelander." He smiles, dropping his hand. "And eating with you. I can't say any of my other clients cared whether or not I ate," you say, chuckling. You think you see his nose twitch strangely at the mention of your other clients.
"Right, well! C'mon, let's see how it looks," he says, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you over to the mirror near the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. Homelander takes the box from your hands and presents it to you, allowing you to lift the apron up and let it unfold. Odd, it feels a touch heavier than you expected. You sling it around your neck, but before you can reach back to tie it, Homelander has taken it upon himself to do it for you. He cinches it at your waist with a sharp little tug, grinning at you from over your shoulder as he meets your eye in the mirror. "Loooook at that, perfect fit," he purrs, tying the ends off. "It's beautiful, thank y—" Smoothing your hands down the front of it, you stop. There's something in the right pocket of the apron. Glancing up, Homelander has a mischievous glint to his expression, but his brows raise, and his lips curl down. He's playing dumb.
Curiously, you slip your hand into the pocket, and feel smooth velvet against your fingers. Wrapping your hand around a firm rectangle, you draw it out, and feel your stomach flip as you stare at the distinctly luxurious looking black box now in your hands. "Oh, geeze, totally forgot that was even in there," Homelander says. His tone is terribly unconvincing, but he does sound very pleased with himself. "Whelp, you've already accepted, so I guess it's yours now." "I—" "Go on," he urges, giving your shoulders a little shake. He's watching you eagerly through the mirror. "Open it up. It's all yours."
Swallowing, you crack the box back on it's hinges. Your jaw drops, your chest tightens. You stare at the shimmering three-stone drop diamond necklace in utter disbelief. You don't even feel Homelander let go of your shoulders, or hear him slide off and drop his gloves to the nearby table. "Oh my god," you whisper. You probably couldn't afford the box this thing was sold in, let alone a single stone on it. "I don't think I can accept this, sir," you say, slipping back into the habit of formality as your brain struggles to catch up to reality.
"Oop, too late for that," Homelander dismisses, plucking the delicate necklace up from the fabric it lay in. "Here, allow me," he says, ignoring your shellshock while he drapes the necklace against your skin, his bare fingers brushing the back of your neck as he gets it fastened.
Breathless, you tentatively touch the bottom diamond. Your mouth feels full of cotton, and your heart is racing. Is this really happening?
Meanwhile, Homelander grips your upper arms, beaming. "Look at you. You know what they say about diamonds; they're a girl's best friend," he laughs, those canines of his looking sharper than ever.
Giving your arms a squeeze, Homelander leans close to your ear. "Happy two weeks," he whispers, the heat of his breath on your neck prickling goosebumps all the way down your spine. "Thank you," you whisper back, pushing out a bewildered little smile.
Homelander lingers there a moment, the warmth of his hands on your arms seeping through the fabric of your shirt. His smile has relaxed some, and his gaze is slightly distant as he looks you up and down in the mirror. You see a flash of pink as he wets his bottom lip with his tongue. It isn't until you clear your throat that his eyes snap back up to yours, regaining presence of mind. "I should get going," you say gently. His fingers flex on your arms, and the corners of his mouth twitch. "Right," he says, lips pulling into a thin smile that doesn't reach his eyes. This is always his least favorite part of the night. With obvious reluctance, he drops his hands from your arms. "Right, ah, let me—" "Unless..." You interject, turning to face him. Homelander's brows shoot up to his hairline. He blinks. "Unless...?" "Unless you'd like me to stay," you say quietly, your stomach tying itself in knots. "Not as your housekeeper, but maybe as just... Company?"
"Company," he echoes, his parted lips slowly drawing into a smile. This one does reach his eyes. "We could watch a movie."
"I like movies," you say. The words sound dumb to you as soon as they leave your lips, but Homelander looks at you like you've just spun a beautiful sonnet. "Great, I have movies," he says, putting a hand on your lower back as he gestures you to the living room. His smile is broad now, eager and a touch boyish. You feel a little surge of endearment amidst the adrenaline. "What do you want to watch?" "Dealers choice," you say, slipping out of the apron before you take a seat at the couch. Homelander immediately busies himself with the television, flipping through Vought+'s enormous repertoire.
Still in a mild daze, you don't process any of the titles that fly by on the screen. Instead, you're hyper aware of the weight of the necklace hanging from your throat, and the lingering heat that Homelander's hands left on your skin.
So much for a simple gig.
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averageradstudent · 17 days
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asmo spin asmo spin asmo spin asmo spin
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puppetmaster13u · 4 months
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Prompt 220
Danny has made a delightful discovery. Blob ghosts can in fact change their shape! Sure it’s simple shapes, but still! He has a school of flying blob fish and blob cats following him around and they’re adorable. And it’s not like most people can see them outside of Amity anyway, so they’re fine to follow him around as they like. 
Though maybe he should have remembered that the most doesn’t mean no one can see them. Um, hello? Feral stabby child?? No you can not steal some of his friends??? Where are your parents???? 
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pseudonymphomania · 4 months
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Reverse Bunny: Thirteen
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nocreativityfornames · 4 months
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Barbatos and Solomon's first meeting and a theory of mine, aka: what if Solomon summoned Barbatos to save his friend?
WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SWD S3 AND NB S1 AHEAD
Okay, so we've had pieces of info about their first meeting for a while now, but after collecting everything I could on these two to make my recent posts I was able to put them together and here it is.
First, there are the two times the story was briefly told in Obey Me! SWD, this one being from lesson 53-16 when Asmo discusses his first meeting with Solomon and then asks Barbatos about his:
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And this next one being from lesson 49-A when Asmo asks about it for the first time and Solomon doesn't want to tell him:
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And we learn what happened in the aftermath from Thirteen when she tells us about it in Obey Me! NB lesson 11-10:
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So Solomon risked his life to summon Barbatos using an incantation and was left on the brink of death because of it, all because he "desperately needed his powers to control time", and after their interaction and whatever happened there, Barbatos took him to the Fountain of Knowledge and declared him the new protector of it.
By the way, they didn't make a pact during their first meeting but later on instead, or at least that's what I got from Barbatos saying:
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I'm saying this because "eventually" is vague enough to be open to interpretation and could mean that they did make a pact during their first meeting and that it only took some bargaining for Barbatos to agree. But the way I saw it was that the pact was made later on.
So, the questions left unanswered from this are:
1 ) What made Solomon want to control time badly enough for him to seriously risk his life for it?
2 ) Did Barbatos help Solomon by using his powers to control time like he wanted him to?
Because it never says that Barbatos agreed to Solomon's "desperate need", and it doesn't say why Solomon was so desperate for it in the first place, only telling us that there was something he wanted enough to risk death for it.
But it does answer WHY later.
At first I thought we didn't have more info on their first meeting, but then I remembered this little moment from Obey Me! NB ( that I added to my post afterward and here's the screenshot from the post because I was too lazy to open the game and go to the lesson again ):
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So Solomon almost died summoning Barbatos because he desperately needed his powers to control time after causing serious destruction to the Human World with his...?
Well, maybe, the passage does say that Barbatos appeared before him and not that he was purposely summoned by him, but it could be that the book is just depicting what people at the time thought happened, since it makes it sound like that was their first meeting when Barbatos himself said that Solomon summoning him was how they first met.
Anyway, let's assume I'm right and that's what happened and the reason why Solomon needed Barbatos was to fix the damage he did to the Human World unintentionally.
THE MAIN THEORY: Solomon summoned Barbatos to save his childhood friend's life, who was affected by Solomon's powers going out of control.
This is something that Solomon tells us in Obey Me! NB lesson 14-16, that he had a friend while he was locked up in the basement as a kid. He tells us the story of how they met and says that from then on the friend started visiting him regularly and that they would chat through the bars of the window basement and that's how their interactions went for however long. But then while telling us about them he suddenly stops:
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And thus this became my current theory.
Solomon's powers, which have always vastly surpassed your usual human's, start getting out of control and becomes a threat to the world, endangering one of his loved ones ( much like MC's in S2 with Lucifer ). And desperate to save their life and out of what to do, he summons a demon he knows can control time to help him.
Judging by how Solomon struggles to tell the story to MC though, we can assume that it didn't end well.
Maybe Barbatos refused to save his friend/had no way to do it ( he can only travel through timelines and not actually go back and change the one where he is ) and Solomon had to accept the fact that they were dying and say goodbye and this was the moment when he made this promise to them to become a good sorcerer, learn how to control his powers and protect humanity.
Or maybe Barbatos did try to save them/told Solomon how to do it but it ended badly somehow and that's what brings Solomon pain when he tries to talk about it.
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Fine I'll talk about Bridgerton
One thing this season made really clear to me is that Lady Whistledown is in a way a coping mechanism. It was stared by a lonely, neglected, unhappy seventeen year old girl who felt like she could scream until she collapsed to the ground and it would be into a void because no one would fucking listen to her.
Her mother constantly berates and criticises her, her father (while alive) barely speaks to her and is seen off to the side drinking when he's meant to be chaperoning her, her sisters are openly cruel to her and are still favoured by their mother. She has few friends, and the two relationships she holds closest both have significant blocks to them, with Colin it's her unrequited feelings and..... tbh her and Eloise's friendship is a whole different post and while they clearly mean the world to each other, there where fundamentally issues long before Lady Whistledown was so much as a drop of ink. I think they are both at fault for them and I love both of them, but Eloise's biggest issue comes from just not listening to her and in general as a person having a bad case of tunnel vision and hyper focusing on certain things while completely missing others.
Pen is outcast from society from the moment she steps foot in it, ridiculed and despised by those around her and bullied by girls her age for literally no fucking reason. She is seen as unattractive and undesirable, she believes the fundamentally human want to be loved a silly childish delusion because she is told from every angle that she is not worth it. She's not even worth listening to.
I think her resentment and hurt had been building for a while, she's never under any assumption that she will be treated or seen better. How could she be? When she is constantly reminded how much she fails to be what is wanted or respected or valued, primarily by her own damn family. Still, she's a kind girl. She's sweet and attentive and a good listener, she's patient and reliable and, before Whistledown started, probably extremely loyal, if how much guilt she felt whenever she genuinely betrayed someone says anything. She's someone who has never felt or had any power, who has so much hurt and resent and bitterness from years of this shit building and building.
But she's also smart and witty and funny and extremely intelligent. She has a talent for writing and words and clearly has the potential to be successful. I think being pushed into society a year earlier than she wanted (again, because her mother wouldn't listen) pushed her over the edge. She wrote her observations, the things she learnt from being pushed to the side for so long down, and published them. I don't think she ever intended for it to be as big as it was, and I think the bigger it got and still gets the more in over her head she is. Because for once people listened, for once people cared, for once what she thought and said and worked for mattered.
It is a young girl gaining her first glimpse at power and being deeply unprepared for the consequences. When things go wrong and she doesn't know what to do and no one will listen to her as Penelope, this is the only way she can make them. No matter how disastrous the affects, using Whiseldown gets results, it just also hurts people, pushing her further and further down this cycle where Whistledown is one of the only thing that makes her feel better and allows her to process the things in her life, while hurting the people around her and making her more dependent on it.
She truly meant to give up Whistledown after the disaster with Eloise, but on that night she had her connection or trust from the two people who she cared about and who cared about her the most broken. With the fight with Eloise and then overhearing Colin she lost both of them in the span of an hour, what else dose she have aside from her writing?
And again at the ball in episode one. Even after a complete upheaval of her entire look she still fails to talk to those guys, she still isn't enough, it's proof it is not her youth or her mother influence something fundamental in her can't do this. Then Cressida rips her dress with Eloise standing right there, then Colin comes and (even tho she is incorrect) confirms to her that he too, is embarrassed by her. So what dose she do? When she's miserable and powerless? She writes. She takes it all out in Whistledown and says the (admittedly true which is why it hurt so much tbh) cruel things about Colin, which she regrets literally a day later after actually talking to him. Adding more guilt and keeping her stuck in this cycle.
It's a business definitely, and there are many parts of Whistledown she genuinely enjoys, but I don't think it's good for her. It hurts the people around her and it hurts herself, she's in over her head and definitely knows she should stop, but I don't think she knows how. She doesn't let herself rely on others enough to be okay without this one thing that has allowed her to cope and be heard and respected and valued. That's also why I think she couldn't have stopped before this season, now she's finally getting that, she's finally being listened to and respected and valued and being told she is worth something. Not by many people, and it is still too new to change the fundamental thought patters about it she has, but it's a start.
Now she just has to grapple with that fact that this thing that has given her a voice and found her comfort might just be the dealbreaker for the real people in her life who can actually offer her the love and care and respect she deserves and craves and has been denied for so so long. It sucks and it's a cycle she can't get out of now, she's made her own trap without knowing how she did it.
That's what happens when a 17 year olds coping mechanism continues and grows and expands for years, when people unknowing pay to see more of it, and when she doesn't really know what else to do. Whistledown is Pens choice and all her actions for better or worse, but it would not exist without the context of her life. It would not exist if Portia was a better mother, if she had better sisters or a better family. It would not exist of other girls her age were kinder to her, if they excluded her a little less. It would not exist if she were not seen as a lost cause for love before she had the chance to try. Lady Whistledown would not exist if someone just fucking listened to her.
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pineappical · 9 months
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transfem trent forever and ever <33
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albert-whiskerz · 1 year
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More of this lunatic 🧡
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zephyrchama · 7 days
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Vampire MC part III - with Leviathan
heads up - this is suggestive
(intro/vampire MC masterlist can be found here)
It was no surprise you hadn’t run into Leviathan since your transformation. He was more elusive than most demons.
You didn’t have a chance to see him until there was a commotion out in the hall. You peeked your head out from behind the bedroom door just in time to see Leviathan trip and fall, splendidly faceplanting on the hallway floor. Hard enough to make you wince. Mammon cackled as he ran around a corner, seizing his chance to escape.
“You have twenty four hours, you deadbeat!” Leviathan shouted, punching the floor and rubbing his fist into the ground. He was absolutely seething. His tail trailed out behind him, thrashing to and fro and bumping against the walls.
You opened the door a little wider. “Did Mammon forget to pay you back again?”
“Gah!” Leviathan, in the midst of picking himself up, stumbled and almost fell down again. “H-how long have you been there? No, uh, nevermind. Ughh. How uncool of me…”
He went to wipe his nose with a sleeve. That’s when you caught a whiff of something delectable.
”Levi, are you injured?”
“Huh? No? Oh, wait…” It was hard to see on the black fabric covering his hand, but you clearly spied a thin red line dripping out his nose. It was hard to ignore.
You gripped the door tightly, shying back behind it so Levi couldn’t see your face. “Come in here a second.”
---
The two of you sat on your bed as you fiddled with the latch of a first aid kit. The alluring scent of blood had a grip on your concentration and the more you tried to focus on the kit, the less your fingers seemed to work. Leviathan draped his tail over the footboard where it anxiously thudded against the hardwood every few seconds.
“So, um. I guess we both have a reason to avoid the sun now, huh? Ha…” he awkwardly trailed off. Leviathan looked concerned, like there was something more important to say, but he couldn’t quite find the words. He watched you with pity. All he could manage was, “are you okay? I know you’ve been through a lot, probably.”
As he spoke, another drop of blood slid down his face which he tried to cover with his hand. Your posture stiffened as you fought to ignore it. Leviathan was wholly ignorant of how much you were holding back. After all, vampires are supposed to attack humans. Who ever saw a vampire go after a demon?
The first aid kit finally popped open with a loud crack, spilling bandages and gauze over the sheets. You both jumped. In the scramble to help put everything back, Leviathan leaned in a little too close. Your pupils thinned and instinct took over, a burning urge to take care of the blood before it dried up.
You grabbed Leviathan by the shoulder. Not strongly, but enough for him to pause and give you a questioning look. Enough time to quickly close the distance between you.
Leviathan froze in place as you dragged your tongue over his lips and under his nose, cleaning up the traces of nosebleed. He was completely still, save for the quiver of his lips when your fangs lightly pressed down on them. Your hands moved to his chest as you snaked your tongue down his chin, lapping across the bare skin on the front of his neck, and prepared for a juicy bite. He held his breath. However, the sensation of something hard and cold on your teeth jolted you out of the fog.
It was easy to forget that Leviathan had scales on the side of his neck when in demon form. You pulled away with a “sorry,” mortified to have licked his face like that, but Leviathan started trembling in excitement. He was panting.
“That was just like Scarlet Moon! Even the way your eyes changed color! Do they do that when you’re hungry? It was just like my favorite scene from the spin-off manga when Kyuu and Ki-chan are locked in the forbidden tower and need to feed to restore their magic and escape.” His leg and tail bounced and his face was flushed. He kept talking on about the series and you couldn’t tell if his cheeks were red from being in such close proximity to you or from being so excited about his anime. Maybe both.
That paltry sample only made you more hungry though, like a light appetizer before the main course. You pushed the medical kit aside.
“Levi, you taste really good.” You parted your lips and breathed slowly, trying to pick up the scent again. It lingered on his gloves. “Can I have some more?” you asked. It wasn’t your intention to sound needy, the words just so happened to come out that way.
“Me? You really want some of me?” He could see the truthfulness in your body language, in how your eyes were now a deep crimson. Leviathan was not used to being craved. He covered his face again and wrapped his tail tightly around the bedpost, as if to anchor himself. As if he was the one losing control instead of you.
“I’m going to get eaten by a vampire? By you?” he stammered. “ I don’t think my heart is ready yet, do I need a bath? No, don’t run. That's pathetic. I’d do anything for you. I can do this! I’m just like Kyuu, I’m ready!”
You were gearing up while he rambled and pounced as soon as Leviathan gave the go-ahead. He yelped, not expecting you to literally jump on him and push him back against the footboard. Your fingers dug into his hoodie while your lips searched the bare side of his neck. The sound of his blood rushing a mile a minute made finding a prime vein easy.
His fanboy heart was too overwhelmed thinking about how cool this was - something he always fantasized of! - to fully notice your body melding against his as your thirst was satiated. He'd realize it when trying to relive the memory later. His hoodie made for a comfortable head rest.
Leviathan wondered, would it be too weird to ask you to do this again while you watched Scarlet Moon together?
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devilishdelights · 6 months
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first meeting
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2 seconds later
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luck-of-the-drawings · 3 months
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OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever
#jrwi fanart#cw blood#jrwi show#jrwi suckening#arthur bennett#OUHH THIS ONE WAS SITTING IN MY WIPS FOR SO LOOOONGwhen i took it out there was mould on it :sob:#BUT i think i was able to fix it up okay#i keep seeing SO MANY MISTAKES RRAAAHHH BUT YOU DONT SEE THEM RIGHT?? THATS ONLY ME. RIGHT?? EXACTLY.#THE KEY IS TO SAY. AND REPEAT AFTER ME. 'FUUUCK IT WE BALL#so anyway. arthur bennett huh? grizzly says that arthur is reaal fuckin difficult to play. and i SUPER get that. i mean LOOK AT HIM..#grizz often needs a minute to think abt what hes gonna say in a way that matches w that Stoic Personality. which is FAIR but also that#ends up making way for awkward confrontations like: the lady in the parky lot. he took too long to answer and scared her away.& I LOVE THAT#arthur is tragic and sad and cool and stoic but hes ALSO awkward and silly and kinda dumb and short sighted. HE HAS COMPLEXITIES#I LOVE WHEN TTRPG CHARACTERS HAVE A GOOD SET OF SHORTCOMINGS. ESPECIALLY WHEN U FIND THEM ONLY AS U PLAY THEM.#I COULd go on and on saying the same things w different words abt arthurs intriguing and entertaining character but i shall spare u. for no#ILL ALSO MENTION HOW MUCH I LOVE HIS FLAVOR THO.. I LOVE TALL HOT BOY WHOS ONE W THE DARKNESS.. I REMEMBER WHEN HE FIRST MENTIONED THE#BADLUCK. N I WAS LIKE OOOHH THATS WHY HIS DESIGN IS SO COOL N CHAOTIC N ASYMMETRICAL. HES UNLUCKY!!! i love love love his design so much...#GRaaauruguguraguhhghghgh what else what else is there for me to spew on abt...i think im reachin a limit here..OH MAGNUS. i hope that#we get to know more abt how magnus and arthur met.. like How they became besties... ouuhh... I ALSO WANNA KNOW MORE ABT MARY DAVIS. LIKEHOW#he also apparently spent alotta time in a zone dominated by edward twilight? all he remembers is constant partying? I WANNA KNOW MORE..#i think i got room 4 one more ramble SO. THE ART PIECE.as i said its gone a lil stale BUT. im still very proud o the bits where hes allScar#I WANNA SEE HIM GET SCARYMORE. I like the idea of shadows solidifying to make him strange and eerie.like TEETH n CLAWS n SPINES n YESS#also the SILVER EYES.no1 does silver eyes like the show Claymore. they make em look so striking and eerie...i also like to think that#human arthur had deep beautiful brown eyes.just in my beaitufl heart.i mean look at him..i wanna cook him n eat him.ANYWAY#i think thats all my ramblin for this piece. now i gotta go cancel a single day i had ata hotel bc my work schedule change last minute FUCK#feel free to ramble in my tags aswell tho i read all of them and i chew on thenm and i love them so sos os mcuh
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