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#i've finally cracked the code i think
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guys who can't write/portray regular women trying to write/portray willow, wigfrid or charlie are the scariest ppl on earth. jsyk.
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tri-pofdeath · 10 months
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I am back again with Another sketch page, or rather, a visualization of me studying Meryl under a microscope to learn how to Draw Her
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humbleanger · 6 months
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kentopedia · 1 month
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౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ SAFEGUARD — dazai, chuuya, akutagawa
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summary . . . they save you after you've been injured and captured by an enemy.
contents . . . sfw, f!reader (chuuya & dazai) and gn!reader (akutagawa), violence / blood, threats, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, and it's pmboss!dazai bc i can't help myself — 3.5k total
notes . . . i got this request so long ago lol. not my best work, but i have been in the worst writing slump ever and just wanted to finish something. i've also never written for akutagawa before so pls be nice <3
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𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .
there are very few times that chuuya feels he’s been outsmarted. he knows he’s not the mastermind of the port mafia, but he certainly isn’t a fool. when it comes to you and your well-being, though, his mind short-circuits, half of his intelligence draining away while his emotions take hold. 
your relationship isn’t a secret to anyone in the port mafia, which means that it isn’t a secret to your enemies either. and while most people know it’s hard to land a finger on chuuya directly, his pretty little girlfriend doesn’t have the power of a god nestled inside of her.
the rage sparks through him, growing fiercely into the blaze of a forest fire, until all he can think of is getting you home safely. he thinks of your sweet smile as he rips the door of the enemies’ base off the hinges, crushing it into a million pieces with the force of gravity. 
the men are quick to react, but chuuya hurtles the crushed door towards them, knocking three of them to their feet. another group charges at him, but their guns do little against his skill. after years of fighting some of the strongest ability users, simple criminal organizations are as easy to step over like ants. 
chuuya kills them all — except for one.
the man’s knees are wobbling, hand shaking around the gun as he realizes that these will be his final moments. there is fear in his eyes, brown ones that rest wide open, and chuuya almost hesitates. his remorse doesn’t last long, though, before he’s wrapping a hand around the man’s throat, thrusting him backwards. 
“where is she?” chuuya asks, voice sharp and commanding. 
he can feel the man swallowing. 
chuuya knows that backup is probably on the way, but it won’t matter whether they show up or not. he’ll crush the rest of his enemies just as he’s crushed the last twenty men. the poor soul in his leather hold seems to know that as well. 
“i-i’ll take you to her,” he rasps, dropping his gun to claw at chuuya’s hand. 
he drops him, lets him take a few heaving breaths and coughs, before he’s kicking at him, forcing him back to his feet.
the young man takes him up the elevator, weaves him through a hallway as chuuya leaves a scattering of bodies in his wake, not hesitating to kill a single man that gets in his way. there is nothing that can keep him from you. 
how fiercely and loyally he loves you — it drives him to near insanity. 
finally, with blood coating his face and his clothes, the young man enters a room, locked with a code, revealing you. 
chuuya’s rage is almost as blinding as his corruption, as he gazes at the sight of you. bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair, so visibly harmed. his hands clench into fists. “get the fuck away from her,” he says to the man who seems to be monitoring you.
“what are you doing in here?” the men left in the room panic, but they don’t have time to react before chuuya throws them back at the wall, so quickly, with so much force, that their spines snap. they hit it with a sharp crack, skulls shattering against the plaster, the wall crushing beneath the weight of them. 
limply, they fall to the floor. 
chuuya rushes over to you. 
the young man that led him here disappears, but chuuya isn’t worried about him. he’s a coward; he’ll likely flee from the country and never look back. the men that truly hurt you are already dead, and he’ll burn this building to the ground once he’s gotten you away from it. 
“hey,” chuuya says, cradling your cheeks gently, trying to coax you back awake. he’s not sure if it’s exhaustion, blood loss, or the obvious head trauma that caused you to pass out in the first place. but you’re still breathing, so he counts that as a blessing. 
“hey,” he whispers again, kissing your forehead, like it will heal all your ailments. “wake up, baby. we gotta get you out of here, okay?” 
it takes you a few seconds to come to, eyes glazed over and shell-shocked as you blink at him. “chuuya?” you say; your voice is so hoarse it makes chuuya want to keel over and vomit. “is it really you?” 
guilt gnaws at him, almost crushing, at the fact that thirty-six hours passed, and you’re delirious enough not to recognize him. you probably haven’t eaten, either. 
he should’ve been there. no one should’ve ever had the chance to hurt you, yet…
“it’s me, i’m here,” he says, kissing your lips, your temple, brushing your hair away from your face. the strands are sticky with blood. “shit,” chuuya nearly shouts, pulling a knife from his pocket, sawing through the thick ropes around you as quickly as he can. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.” 
he can’t get you free fast enough, and you smile at him, drowsy, your eyes fluttering shut once more. “it’s okay, chuuya,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re here now.” 
“you have to stay awake,” he says desperately, realizing your head is still bleeding. he doesn’t know how hurt you are. chuuya’s no expert when it comes to medicine, but he’s smart enough to know that internal injuries could be even worse than the external ones. 
“stay awake for me, okay, honey? i’ll get you back to the boss and we’ll find you a doctor. you’ll be just fine.” 
“okay, chuuya,” you hum, weakly gripping his back. seconds of silence pass before you mutter, “i just want to go home.” 
"i know." his heart pulls, and he almost lets out a cracked sob. but he refrains, knowing that there is plenty of time to drown in his sorrows later. 
finally, he gets the ropes under, lifting you from the chair. you’re so much lighter, weaker, and it makes him sick as he carries you. “let’s get you home.” 
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𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀. . .
the call comes just as akutagawa is getting ready to head home for the evening, his tasks completed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. 
normally, he doesn’t stick around to say any goodbyes, sneaking off into the darkness of the night like a shadow, blending right in. but, something about the evening, so gloomy and drizzly with spring rain, feels off. 
with a heavy knot in his chest, so much different than an incoming fit of coughs, akutagawa heads back up to mori’s office, if perhaps to only ensure that everyone else’s jobs had been completed. he’s a lot of things, but he’s never been a slacker; and he’ll do what it takes to ensure that his position in the mafia is eternally secure.
though, he doesn’t have the opportunity to get all the way upstairs before he run into the boss, who is calm, but with an air of irritation clouding him. 
he explains the current situation to akutagawa in a clipped tone, bored — an enemy group has kidnapped you, holding you hostage. 
“how rude is it to bother a man, just as he is getting ready to go to sleep?” mori says, sighing histrionically.
but what is a minor inconvenience to mori sends an entire wave of dread through akutagawa, his entire body feeling as if it’s been dipped in ice. he can’t explain the horror that washes over him, not really, because he shouldn’t feel so panicked. it is rare for him to get worked up about the danger his subordinates find themselves in, save for his sister, of course. 
but you… you’re different. 
“can i trust you to diffuse the situation?” mori asks, impatiently glancing at his watch as if that will change anything. “i can call someone else, but they will not be so quick.” 
akutagawa doesn’t even think before he accepts the job, hating the way he sounds pathetically desperate for more details. his hands flatten the edge of his cloak, as if his ability is going to take on a mind of its own. 
he calls for a driver, calm but breathing so heavily that an aching cough rises up in him. his throat feels as if it may begin to bleed, but he swallows, glances away from the driver and gets himself under control.
there’s a ransom — bring them the money and they’ll return you, mori had told him. you’re only a lower ranking member of the mafia, and someone that makes for a pretty poor bargaining chip, so the motive is questionable. 
mori probably would’ve let you die, akutagawa knows, his teeth gritting together, so much so that a splintering sound comes from it. but the boss, in his infinite, concerning wisdom, seems to also know that his loyal dog has an soft spot for you. 
as regrettable as that may be.
akutagawa has no doubt that whoever the enemy is, they are no match for him. still, a twinge of anxiety settles in his stomach, fingers jittery as the driver, despite the decreased traffic of the hour, seems to drive impossibly slow. 
“are we not in a rush?” akutagawa snaps, leaning forward.
“apologies,” the driver, says, not daring to even look at akutagawa from the mirror. but the car speeds up, enough for akutagawa to be able to notice, at least. it cools the simmer that has already begun deep in his chest.  
even so, the car seems to go at a snails pace, minute upon minute flying by, with you in the clutches of an enemy. 
akutagawa doesn’t care who they are. he doesn’t care why, or how they captured you. he wants them dead. he’ll rip them apart, easily, and he’ll make them suffer — they’ll be alive for all of it, for every second that he peels the skin from their bones, ripping the smaller ones out of their sockets. 
what he feels for you… well, it’s too hard for him to admit to himself. he has no experience with what it means to care for another person, doesn’t even know if that’s his goal. he just knows he wants to protect you.
and he can’t do that if you’re dead.
finally, the car pulls up to an old warehouse, one at the very outskirts of the port, beyond the docks and the shipping carts. it’s tucked far back, an obvious lair for some villainous organization that doesn’t want to be found. 
akutagawa gets there, but there is nothing. he hears nothing, feels no signs of life as he trudges through the puddles left behind from the earlier rain. 
a small string of panic begins again, as he wondered if maybe the call that mori had told him was only a ruse. maybe this entire time had been a distraction, a way to lure him away. there are other skill-users in the mafia, but none quite as dangerous as him. 
though, he hears it, then. a small little sound, muffled and hoarse, full of pain. 
he ducks into another corner of a warehouse, and you’re there — bound with chains and a gag across your mouth, one of your eyes blackened with bruises, your nose bleeding. 
his heart aches. never in his life has he so quickly made his way over, used the sharp edges of his ability to shear through the chains, falling to his knees as he unbinds the cloth from your lips. 
“where are they?” he rasps, mouth opening and closing, hating the sound of his own voice. he recognizes his desperation, his anger, but the affectionate sound that clips at the end is unfamiliar, as he shakily pulls himself closer to you. 
you glance up at him, eyes glossy and wide, and though you are scared, hurt, he’s so thankful you are alive. his heart flips once, as you grasp at his cloak, the material that has the blood of so many staining the threads. 
“gone,” you say, throat chalky, words nothing more than a note against the wind. “they fled when they heard it was you coming.” 
“and left you?” he asks, jaw clenching, as he hopes that the emotions aren’t as visible on his features as he thinks they are. “were you not a ransom?” 
“no,” you swallow, hard, as if in pain. he notices bruises around your neck, the shape of fingerprints indented there. “i was bait.”
anger rises up in him like a wave, engulfing him, wholly and relentlessly. he is no stranger to that, like he is the kindness you show him, the way you look at him as if he is your protector, rather than a bringer of destruction. “i’ll go after them. where are they headed? they’ll pay, i’ll slaughter—”
“ryunosuke,” you say, reaching for him as he stands, expression pleading as he backs away. “stay.” 
he has half a mind to ignore you — the enemy escaped, after all. but your voice. your eyes… you look so small sitting there, bloodied and bruised and broken. 
“please,” you try again, near tears, and though he has never been good with obvious displays of emotion, something within him snaps at the desperation in the word. 
he nods, slowing his pace as he returns to you, lets you wrap yourself in him, cling to him. his hands fall, naturally, to your waist, somehow knowing where they belong, even if akutagawa never has a clue what he’s doing with you. 
“i’ll call hirotsu,” he says simply, before pulling out his phone, not bothering to untangle himself from you. 
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𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .
dazai is not a forgiving man, and will never learn to be. forgiveness is not a luxury he is often able to indulge in in his line of work, and his heart has hardened enough that until the end of time, those that are branded his enemies will remain his enemies. 
though, in his blackened heart, one soured over the course of time, you have carved out your own little space, lit it up with golden rays of light that are fiery enough to melt the stone casing of his chest. 
his only love — his only weakness. but it is a weakness that his enemies know about as well. 
dazai tries his best to keep you safe. he always has, and he knows that, sometimes, his grasp on you can be a little too tight. that the way he tries to keep you under his watchful eye can sometimes be stifling, frustrating. 
but he can’t always be there to protect you. and it is in times like these, that he regrets letting you go without a bodyguard. he regrets that he listened to your insistence that you could keep yourself safe. 
he should’ve at least told you to take a friend. 
“boss,” his subordinate says, bowing his head, his voice pleading, desperate. “i’m so sorry. your wife—”
“if anything… anything happens to her, you will be the one responsible, do you understand?” dazai says, his eyes cold as he glowers down at the man, only a few inches shorter than him, but feeling so much smaller. “i will personally see that this act does not go unpunished.” 
“of course, sir,” the man says, and he, at the very least, has the decency to sound resigned. to accept his fate and suffer the consequences, for allowing the boss’s wife to get herself into such a situation. 
and dazai means it, every last word; if he finds you in a state closer to death, anyone who put you in harm’s way will be torn apart from the inside out. he isn’t able to think of anything but bringing you home safely, his hands shaking with rage as he sends more than enough people out on a search to find you. 
with all the strings he’s able to pull as the mafia boss, it doesn’t take long to find you, for those that have bravely — or stupidly — used his wife as bait to come forward, and offer an attempt at some sort of negotiation. 
there’s little of the conversation that dazai remembers on the phone, even less that he remembers after that. the anger bubbles up in him and grabs hold of his conscience, the emotion directing his movements with a mind of its own. 
he’s already sent out every last one of his people into the field, ensuring that the organization that had the gall to threaten you is wiped off the face of the earth. deleted from every corner of the world, buildings flattened to the ground. by tomorrow, they won’t have ever existed. 
today, he doesn’t care what happens as long as he finds you alive. 
you’re held hostage by two men — so completely beaten that they’ve given up on any restraints. whatever they wanted from you, you seemed to refused to have given up, lip bleeding, eyes swelling so badly that you can’t even open them. 
dazai doesn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger on the first man, then turning to the other, shooting the hand that holds the pistol. the man recoils, shouts, and drops the weapon completely, as dazai lands another bullet to his knee, causing him to fall. 
slowly, dazai walks up, firing again to his other arm, a loud snap echoing throughout the room. the man winces, trying to crawl to the gun, one last desperate attempt to stay alive. 
he kicks the gun away, watching, as, pathetically, the expression in the enemy’s face changes — any of his remaining hope vanishes. 
“you told me she was unharmed,” dazai says, bending down, his coat flaring out behind him as he squats. 
the man coughs, gasping for air as the blood seeps out of him. “we lied.” he smiles cruelly, and though he shares the same sort of darkness as those in the port mafia, there is something even more twisted in his smile. 
dazai hums. “you the leader?” 
the man doesn’t give an answer, but the slight twitch of surprise on his face is all dazai needs. he’s no one — just a grunt whose life was put on the line to guard you. 
“didn’t think so.” dazai shoots him once, straight through the forehead, instantly killing him. but he is vindictive, angry, and the man he truly wants to destroy, the one who took you, is nowhere to be found. another bullet lands, tearing apart the flesh of his temple, then another, and one more, his skull beginning to cave in from the force of it all. 
dazai heaves, letting the gun clatter to the ground as it runs out of bullets, and then he realizes, all this time, you’ve just been watching him. the ugliest side of him — the worst side of him. 
you’re no stranger to it, of course. how can you be, when you’ve shared a life with him for years? but that doesn’t mean he wants you to see it, see how bloodthirsty he can become. 
he stumbles over to you, where you’re still sitting on the ground, your wrist in your lap, bent at an angle that he knows isn’t right. bruises are littered across your skin, and your hair is matted from the blood that pools at your temple. 
it takes every ounce of restraint he has to stay calm, a million feelings swirling under his skin. ones that he was never familiar with until he met you. 
“i’m sorry,” he says, taking your face in his hands so, so softly, worried that he’ll hurt you even more. “i’m sorry, darling. i should’ve — i should’ve been there.” dazai notices his hands are shaking and he balls them up into fists, leaning back. “fuck. fuck — i’ll kill them all, just tell me who it was. anyone who laid a finger on you. i’ll cut them down one by one.” 
“osamu,” you say, and your voice is raspy, cracking, as your unbroken arm reaches for him, squeezing his shaking hand. “i—”
you open your mouth to continue, but only tears come streaming down your cheeks, over your bloodied lips, saltiness soaking your jawline. no words don’t leave you, but a soft sob chokes itself up your throat.
“hey, hey, hey.” dazai’s voice softens, every muscle in his body relaxing as he draws you nearer to him, into his chest with a touch that’s barely there. “you’re safe. i’m here, okay? they’re not going to hurt you again, sweetheart.” 
you sniffle, barely making a sound, but he can feel the tears drop onto his clothes, soaking the material.
“can you walk? are you hurt anywhere else?” 
you hesitate for a moment before answering; he’s not sure if there’s a reason you only answer the first question. “i can walk.” 
dazai nods, and though the rage is still bubbling there, underneath the surface, there is a coolant streaming through him at the vision of you alive. the men who did this will pay the price, but he still has you — and that’s all that matters.
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thank you for reading !!! ❤︎
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MASTER LIST OF INSTRUMENTAL PLAYLISTS FOR WRITING (OR FOR STUDYING, MAKING ART, ETC.)
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I find that the perfect writing playlist can GREATLY enhance the writing experience. Even if it doesn't make your writing "better" (which it can, since it helps writers with visualization, tone, and mood), it can definitely make your writing flow easier!
Personally, words distract me when I'm writing, either by breaking my train of thought or by getting me too into the music so that I'm jamming out to my favorite tunes instead of writing.
Therefore, I've amassed a vast knowledge of instrumental music across a variety of media over a course of many years. Now here I am, deciding to share all of them with you!
Maddy’s Favorite Instrumental Songs
Just like the title says. All of the best pieces of instrumental music I've ever heard, compiled together with no regard for genre. It can be a bit of a whiplash playlist, but some amazing recs in there that I just like listening to in my free time, not just for writing.
Maddy’s Ultimate Instrumental Playlist
A mega compilation of 550+ fantastic instrumental music from a variety of media and genres. Kind of a whiplash playlist if you put it on shuffle, but is a great start for anyone looking to find what kind of instrumental music they like! Playlist Groupings in Order: Independent instrumental songs, live action movies, animated movies, animated tv shows, live action tv shows, video games.
Maddy's Instrumental for Sleep
Some more chill vibe instrumental for people who either A) want to sleep or B) want a relaxed playlist that won't distract you with loud volume and sudden changes in tempo or melody.
MISC PLAYLISTS:
you're a haggard adventurer discovering worlds beyond your wildest dreams
Music to inspire wonder and wanderlust, the kind of feeling you get when you finally reach the end of a mountain hike and see the world stretching out before you.
you're a hero who's just lost everything
Basically the most sad instrumental music I could find. A playlist for grief and revenge.
more beneath the cut :)
you're a cowboy in the great American West
Cowboy instrumental for all of your ambient and writing needs. Or if you just really want to feel like a cowboy.
you're a divine witness
Epic choir music (no English). Most religious, some not, but all kind of have that eerie sacred vibe. I listen to this while writing my book about angels and demons.
you’re a scholar uncovering the secrets of the universe
Great chill study playlist! Has the kind of same exploratory/discovery type feel as the haggard adventurer playlist, but more dark academia.
you’re a villain plotting to take over the world
Villain-coded instrumental! Sinister, dark, and/or unsettling.
you're an academic weapon
HIGH BPM STUDY PLAYLIST! Keeps me focused, hyped, and helps me work faster!
you're an ancient god
Playlist that gives an ancient/eerie vibe. But some ancient gods are merciful- so there are some upbeat songs for wonder and awe!
you're falling in love
Music that encapsulates what I think falling in love feels like. Very beautiful, tender, and uplifting instrumental.
you're fighting the final battle
Intense and epic battle music for all of your fight-scene-writing needs! Good for getting shit done, but isn't necessarily restricted to high BPM like the academic weapon playlist.
you're having a tea party
Refined instrumental for a tea party, including classical, big band, and some miscellaneous goodies.
you're in a chase scene
Music for writing chase scenes. Pretty good hype music, too. Includes soundtracks from classic chase scenes in popular media!
you're in the medieval times
Medieval-sounding music for all of your ambient and/or writing needs.
you’re in your childhood room. the door is open a crack. people talk softly downstairs.
A playlist dedicated to nostalgia, to the feeling of lying in bed with your nightlight on after being too tired to stay awake at your family get-together. Could either make your day or break your heart lmao
you're the happiest you've ever been
Lighthearted instrumental meant to lift your spirits! A playlist dedicated to the joys of the little things.
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thavron · 6 months
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So I think I've cracked this moment.
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So this moment has bothered me. I've seen several people say this is Crowley breaking up with Aziraphale, but I think it has a different meaning. I think he's saying, "I understand."
Hear me out.
It was actually listening to the song Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy that caused me to have a little epiphany. I love how it's juxtaposed over Crowley rushing back to Aziraphale, indicating that he is the Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy, but there is more to it.
That song was released in 1976, which is a time when being gay or being queer of any kind was deeply frowned upon. Though laws in the UK banning same sex relationships had been lifted by this time, for consenting adults over the age of 21. Freddie explicitly coming out at this time was something that could have ended his career. Freddie danced with the media on this one, hinted but was never forthright and kept his romantic life largely under wraps. This is something that queer people did in general and had to do well into the 90s. They flirted in code, they romanced behind closed doors. They kept their love out of sight.
Much like our Ineffable Husbands.
Editing to add- that the reason this triggered something for me, is that despite the secrecy, Freddie Mercury got up on stage and sang a song about a man taking another man out on a date at the Ritz. Everyone knew. Just no one knew knew. And it wasn't enough to end his career. Much like our Ineffable Husbands. Everyone knows, including them. Just no one says a thing about it.
Which brings me back to A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square.
This song is about one magical night. A couple meet, fall in love, feel the magic of their romance, and then as the sun comes up they go home. It is something like a dream that has to be let go with the harsh light of day. But there is hope, because sometimes they can hear the echo of the nightingale. A promise perhaps to meet again.
So I think it is widely assumed that there is more to the 1941 flashback. I tend to concur. I think we will see the origin of why this song is important to them. I suspect the song is about them. They have one magical night, where they are both brave and express their love for each other. But then the sun comes up and they realise that they have to go back to their lives. I think they will acknowledge that the incident with the zombies was a close call, and they need to cool off and stay away from each other. Slow down.
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So 1967 is the first time they have seen each other since. They both know how they feel, they're just waiting for the right time. They shouldn't have met at all, except Aziraphale wants to give Crowley the holy water. I think that explains the awkwardness but also their softness toward each other. It's a meeting of lovers, but the time isn't right just yet. No nightingales are singing. That's what Aziraphale means by "You go too fast for me." Not yet, it's too soon. We're still under suspicion.
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So the end of season one, the world is not over and our ineffable husbands are free. What do they do? They go for date at the Ritz. You can not tell me this is not a date. Sorry, don't believe you. "The Ritz is the most romantic hotel in the world." It's like their whole selling point. It's why it pops up in the lyrics of Berkley Square, and also in the lyrics of Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy. It's the place where magic happens. And for me, the playing of the song, and the reference from God herself, it's saying the time is right. They can finally be together again. This is their moment.
So Season Two. I've read reviews of season two where people liken it to fanfiction. Neil calls it is a bridge season. I think it's the dream. Not actually a dream, I don't think Neil is that unoriginal. But in the song they liken that one magical night to a dream. It's a fantasy that they get to live until the sun comes up. They get to live their dream for four years. They are together and they are in love but they are still living in secret. They still don't acknowledge it. They're still holding back. One of the themes in this series is timing is everything. Maggie and Nina's relationship doesn't work because timing. The magic trick worked the time it mattered. Timing is important, and the ineffable husbands are bad at it. They should have thrown themselves into this but they were too cautious and they missed their chance.
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I think this conversation is when Crowley realises. Not that he is love with Aziraphale, that was established in 1941. But that everyone knows anyway. There is no reason to hide. No one cares that they're an item. Aziraphale has a similar epiphany after his chat with Shax. So they both decide to move the relationship along, but damn do they have bad timing.
Now I am as confused and heart broken as anyone about the final fifteen. And I am certain that there is something that we are not seeing, a trick that we've missed. There are six minutes unaccounted for. Neil says its a continuity error, but he's demon, he lies.
So here is what I think, and why this line "that's the point, no nightingales" is important. At some point during that conversation Crowley catches on. Whether they have a moment of stopped time, or the fact that Aziraphale is acting so utterly unhinged, there is something that happens that we don't see and it clues him in. He is hurt and angry yes, but he understands. What he is understanding is that the dawn came stealing up, and that the interlude is over. The nightingales stopped singing, and they have to go back to work. He gets it and that's how he lets Aziraphale know.
"You're an idiot, we could have been us." He doesn't like the plan, whatever it is. He thinks running would have been preferable, but he is resigned to it.
Then that kiss. One last goodbye just in case the world ends? Desperate longing and years of pent up frustration? I don't think the trick is here. I think this is misdirection. We're all looking at the kiss, we missed the coded message that came right before. I think "No nightingales" may also suggest that this isn't the kiss. The romantic kiss will come later, when the nightingales sing again. And they will, of that I'm certain now.
The song playing in the car, a message from Aziraphale or from the Bentley reminding him to have hope. Two things we know about Crowley. He is an optimist. He loves to rescue his angel. We also know that he is the trusted stooge with the steady hand. Aziraphale will perform the theatrics, he will do the rest. The fact that he waited and didn't just storm off like he did when he was rejected in series 1 tells Aziraphale that he is still here. He's still in this.
That's my interpretation anyway.
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talesofesther · 7 months
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what once was mine | ch 3
Loki x Reader
Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.
A/N: We're finally heading into the main plot I think lol. Hope y'all like this one, let me know. <3
Masterlist | Read ch 2 here
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"Casey!" You called, hurriedly walking between the rows of files while looking down at the paperwork in your hands. TVA's library was either your favorite place or the place you hated the most. No in-between. It was your favorite when you stopped by to lounge in the armchairs and read your books in the calming silence. But when you had to traverse between the cramped shelves in search of files, that's when you hated it.
"Casey?" You called again, still turning the pages with a frown on your face.
"Yeah, what's up?"
The sudden voice caught your attention and you raised your head just in time to not walk straight into your friend. You chuckled to yourself, coming to stand beside him in the small space between the tall shelves. "I was going through this report and it mentions a code 581, I've never heard that one before." With your finger, you pointed to the underlined letters on the report.
"Oh, that's a fun one," Casey smiled, taking the papers from your hands, "it's kind of a rare case actually, it's when two variants appear simultaneously…"
While you spoke with Casey, all the way on the other side of TVA's weirdly shaped building, and one floor above, stood Mobius with Loki by his side; both of them leaning on the railings and observing you from afar.
"How long did you say she's been here?" Loki asked, his eyes never leaving your form. His face had a complicated expression, almost as if he was still figuring out how to feel about actually seeing you, the same girl from the life he was supposed to have.
"I didn't, I said that time passes differently here in the TVA," Mobius spoke beside him, his eyes slowly shifting between you and Loki. "But, if I had to guess I'd say the equivalent of around two years."
It's been a couple of weeks since Loki arrived, and in his time here he's been quite helpful for the TVA; not enough to catch the rogue variant, but enough to earn his end of the bargain.
"Is it a habit of yours to keep variants around then?" Loki turned to Mobius with a raised brow.
"Not at all," Mobius chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "You two are the only ones so far, and you can thank me for that, by the way."
Loki pursed his lips as he shifted his gaze back to you. He watched as you spoke with Casey, huge smile on your lips as you gestured around saying something he couldn't understand. "Why keep her?" He asked quietly.
Mobius sighed, following the path of Loki's gaze toward you. "Same reason as you, pretty much. She was very... familiar with the Loki from her timeline and I figured she could be of help to us. At first, she was a very tough nut to crack, but it was either that or be pruned so eventually, she agreed, and has helped capture many Loki variants in her time here."
A scoff went past Loki's lips. His hands gripped the railings tighter, heartbeat quickening with each passing second that brought him closer to meeting you. Why he felt this way, he couldn't tell; it was as if his body knew something he didn't. "And, by her timeline, you mean my timeline as well?"
"Technically, yes."
─── ·❆· ───
"Thank you, Casey, I'll see you at lunch," you gave your friend a small wave as you turned to go in opposite directions. The ghost of a smile lingered on your lips as you closed the file's folder, but it faded immediately as soon as you looked up.
Mobius stood in front of you, he said your name but it sounded like a whisper drowned underwater to your ears, for you were focused on the person a few steps behind him. He had the same raven black curls, the same sharp nose, fair skin, and bright eyes; his features being highlighted by the artificial lights from TVA's infinite floors. He was a ghost. The one from your worst nightmares and most beautiful dreams. A ghost of your past life, one that instantly got your heartbeat skyrocketing and closed up your throat until you couldn't breathe, or talk, or even think.
You were nearly making holes into the file in your hands with the force you held it with, knuckles going white.
Taking a step closer, Mobius called your name again. He tried reaching out towards you but you took a sharp step back. "There's someone who would like to meet you," he settled for saying, calmly, gesturing behind him.
Forming words became a struggle for you. Your lips parted only to tremble with no sound coming from your mouth. Inhaling sharply, you straightened your posture. "No." You said with finality, your eyes not leaving the ones that reminded you of your Loki.
A frown appeared on his features and he looked like he was about to speak, but you beat him to it, finally looking at Mobius; "You. Me. Storage room, now."
With that, you turned around and took urgent steps to the back of the library, shoving open the door that led to a small storage room for older files no one needed anymore. You turned the switch for the single orange light hanging from the ceiling and then clawed at your scalp, trying your best to regulate your breathing.
Mobius walked in, closing the door behind him. "Listen I can-"
"Explain?" You finished for him, urgency and anger dripping from each syllable, "yeah, you better. What was that? Who is he?"
"We were about to get to that before you stormed off." Mobius shrugged.
"Cut the bullshit, Mobius," you sighed, hands coming to rest on your waist.
"He's a Loki, you've met a hundred of them already."
You bit your lip to hold back the tears stinging behind your eyes. "Yeah, I have, and none of them were-" you hesitated, "None of them looked like-" You swore under your breath when your voice betrayed you.
"Your Loki?"
Mobius' quiet words got you closing your eyes, there was compassion in his voice, being one of the only people here who really knew what you've been through. A long sigh escaped your lips, along with some of the anger, leaving room only for the emptiness that has been following you around for years now.
"Is he?" You were afraid to know, but you asked anyway.
"He was going to be," Mobius took a step closer to you, and this time you allowed him to rest a hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your dress shirt. "He came from your timeline, roughly after his attempt at taking over earth."
An unamused chuckle escaped your lips and a single tear ran down your cheek, but you were quick to wipe it away. "Jesus, Mobius. You can't be serious." You looked him straight in the eyes then, voice strained; "you can't be doing this to me."
"He insisted," Mobius raised both hands in front of his chest in a halfhearted attempt to calm you down. "He insisted, okay? He saw you in his file, he wanted to know who you were. What was I supposed to do? He saw you and didn't know who you were but it was clear that you were important, and he felt that too."
A beat of silence passed, and then; "I mean," Mobius chuckled softly, shaking his head; "you should have seen his eyes when he saw you, he looked worse than you do now."
You sniffled, avoiding your teary eyes from his gaze. "What were you supposed to do? Well, what about talking to me first, you oaf," you told him, though there was no malice in your words.
"I'm sorry," Mobius shrugged, not sure of what else he could say to you. "I just figured it wouldn't be fair to either of you if I didn't introduce you. Or, reintroduced you."
You doubted you'd be able to form a coherent thought in your mind right now with the amount of emotions you were going through. But you knew he was right, deep down you did. You just weren't sure what to make of it yet, seeing a Loki who would eventually become your Loki; who, essentially, was your Loki. Just not yet.
It nearly sent you into a panic attack. Seeing him again was all you ever wanted when you lost him, yet now that it's happening, you're not sure if you can handle it. Or if you still want it.
Mobius tried to find your gaze with his, and as if reading your mind, he said; "Isn't this what you wanted when you first got here? To see him again?"
"That's not me anymore, Mobius," you spoke before you could stop yourself. "I'm- I'm not that person anymore." Your voice was quiet, muffled behind the walls you'd built around your wounded heart. "Besides, that's-" You stumbled over your words, tasting your tears on the corner of your lips, "that's not him. That's not the Loki I knew."
"How can you say that, you didn't even speak to the guy," Mobius gestured to Loki's general direction outside of the storage room.
"Yeah well, I don't have to!" You snapped, and closed your mouth soon after, mumbling an apology. "I just- He's not him," you said quieter, almost as if saying it again and again would make it true.
"Maybe not yet," Mobius reasoned, pursing his lips as he mulled over unsaid words; "But he is, otherwise he wouldn't have seen his future with you. You know that."
You buried your hands in the pockets of your pants because you could feel how heavily they were shaking. You bit your lip until you tasted blood. "I can't. I'm sorry, Mobius, but I can't. You tell him I want nothing to do with him." The words rolled off your tongue quickly and strained, you didn't give Mobius time to answer you before you were shoving open the door of the storage room and rushing outside.
From the side of your eyes, as you walked, you noticed Loki leaning against one of the file shelves. He perked up when he saw you, straightening his posture and softening his gaze as he took half a step towards you.
You didn't spare him a second glance before turning your back to him and hurrying to the opposite way.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Read ch 4 here
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
Loki’s taglist: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @justaproudslytherpuff @justanotherkpopstanlol @chronicallybubbly @chaoticqueen33 @7minutes-tomidnight @uncle-eggy @oliviaewl @dd122004dd @tani725 @lokihaha34 @levanneisdumb @innebulae @mochminnie @mayemperess @alyeskathewave @buginktsworld @cremebruleequeen @wyvernthekriger @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avengersfan25 @mischief2sarawr @yokolesbianism @athenasproverbs @h-l-vlovesvintage @princess-ofthe-pages @daisy-the-quake @talesofadragon @rainbowsocks @alexandra-001 @mary-jinx @stevenknightmarc @falconxsoldier @ladymercury8 @shirukitsune @ladymischief11 @starkzdaughter
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cartierre · 1 year
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LE PETIT PRINCE | ms47
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SOCIAL MEDIA!AU mick schumacher x fem!reader
side note: i'm so sorry the plot here is kind of non-existent and it's literally just mick being boyfriend of the month but the request has been sitting in my inbox for quite some time and i felt obligated to finally finish it because i felt bad for taking so long.
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♡ liked by mickschumacher and 13,492 others
tagged: mickschumacher
yourusername mick keeps buying me french books and says "i can teach you french" but really he just wants to spend more time with me by translating them to me
view all 38 comments
user1 get yourself someone like mick who keeps buying you books ⤷ user2 you make it sound like as if books are actually expensive ⤷ user3 it's the thought that counts babes
mickschumacher you really cracked the code, meine liebe (my love) ⤷ yourusername it's because i've read sherlock
user4 i'm so jealous to my core
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♡ liked by mickschumacher and 14,012 others
tagged: mickschumacher
yourusername livres et bisous (books and kisses)
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user5 the last picture is doing things to me ⤷ user6 y/n really won at love ⤷ user7 ik i'm so jealous of her
mickschumacher mon coeur (my heart) ⤷ yourusername mon ange (my angel)
user8 they're so in love i hate it here ⤷ user9 how can someone be as lucky as y/n fr
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♡ liked by yourusername, felipedrugovich and 349,207 others
tagged: yourusername
mickschumacher back in switzerland before travelling up to belgium!
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user10 ugh he's so boyfriend ⤷ user11 i feel so painfully single rn
user12 legit every time i see a post of y/n there are books involved ⤷ user13 she's just like me fr ⤷ user14 our little hopeless romantic
yourusername i cannot believe you laughed at me when i cried at the book's ending ⤷ mickschumacher i'm sorry ⤷ yourusername you should be! at least bobby was there to comfort me
user15 y/n crying because she got emotionally invested in her book is so real of her ⤷ user16 I'm her, she is me
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♡ liked by mickschumacher and 11,397 others
tagged: mickschumacher
yourusername i think i've packed enough books for the upcoming race week
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mickschumacher you think? ⤷ yourusername there's never enough to read
user17 maybe she could just watch mick race instead of reading her boring books? ⤷ user18 she's at like every fucking race, let her be if she wants a time out and just enjoy some reading ⤷ user19 also what if she has social anxiety and just doesn't want to talk to many people and therefore loves to read instead?
user20 i understand her struggle of never having enough books with me on vacation ⤷ user21 like at least 50% if my luggage is filled with books and then i always buy more
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♡ liked by mickschumacher and 14,597 others
tagged: mickschumacher
yourusername mon petit prince (my little prince)
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user22 UGH I WANT THIS SO BAD
user23 y/n learning french with the help of mick and reading le petit prince is literally the most adorable thing i've seen all week ⤷ user24 i just know mick's really patient with teaching her french ⤷ user25 i didn't even know mick speaks french ⤷ user26 he grew up in switzerland, they get taught french there
mickschumacher your french is definitely getting somewhere! ⤷ yourusername i have the best teacher comment liked by mickschumacher
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♡ liked by youruserame, dennis_hauger and 398,102 others
tagged: yourusername
mickschumacher ma rose🌹(my rose)
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user27 HIM CALLING HER HIS ROSE BECAUSE HE IS HER PETIT PRINCE i am deceased ⤷ user28 boyfriend of the decade
yourusername je t'aime mon petit prince (i love you my little prince) comment liked by mickschumacher ⤷ mickschumacher je t'aime aussi ma rose (i love you too my rose)
user29 this is it i'm dead, died of envy ⤷ user30 how can i live laugh love under these conditions
user31 biting my fist rn
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chiscribbs · 8 months
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Updated Future Donnie Concept Art!!!
So, I've been hesitant to try my hand at designing an Apocalyptic Future version of Donnie for a while, for a number of reasons - mainly that I just didn't have a clear idea of him in my brain yet and the thought of attempting to update his already pretty perfect design was highly daunting - but I finally caved and decided to take a crack at it. A couple months and several revisions later, I'm actually genuinely happy with the result. I'd still consider this "concept art" more so than a final design, elements of it could definitely be improved, but I really do like the concept as a whole - I think it could work!
The main goals I had in mind while working on this were: A. Must fit the character/look like something Donnie would canonically wear and still be easily recognizable. B. Must work in the Rise world & style (i.e. not be overly detailed or have too complex a silhouette.) C. Must fit in with the other (canonical) Future Rise designs.
I was also thinking about what problems Donnie might be trying to solve, which is what inspired the belt (more info on that below). All-in-all, although there might still be a few kinks to work out, I think I managed to come up with a pretty solid base design for my favorite Warring Warrior Scientist (Jr.)
Some additional character tidbits under the cut.
Also, I can't draw mechanisms to save my life, so just pretend those vague ninpo-gun-things make sense lol
Donnie has a mechanical prosthetic leg. How'd he lose that leg? Up to interpretation - my working theory is that it was a minefield accident that occurred when he was trying to blow some Krang dogs to Timbuktu. Naturally, since it's Donnie and they are in the midst of an alien apocalypse, he designed the leg to do a whole lot more than just help him stand without falling down. It's a multifunctional tool that contains a plethora of secret uses - including, but certainly not limited to, sawing off ugly Krang faces. It's essentially his new tech bo.
Bonus leg tidbit: Casey Jr. saw him deploy the saw blade in battle once when he was little, he then proceeded to beg for a saw-leg of his own to fight the Krang with. Donnie, realizing that amputating a perfectly healthy child's leg is probably not that most morally acceptable option, instead made him his own "sawing stick"(AKA, his motorized hockey stick)...which the others then made him wait until Casey's 10th birthday to give him.
The belt that Donnie's wearing here is a prototype of his latest invention. Its intended purpose: to deflect the Krang's mystic-blocking attacks, allowing them to use their ninpo in close combat. It took a lot of risk-taking to collect the necessary information to create such a device, and he experienced a number of way-too-close calls (one of which may or may not have resulted in that large gash across his plastron), but he finally managed to crack the code and pinpoint the frequency of the Krang's sound waves. He's testing it out right now to make sure that it works and is safe to use, but once it's out of beta, he plans to mass-produce them for every mystic-wielder in the Resistance to use in battle. He believes it could turn the tides of the war...unfortunately, the device never makes it out of beta, as he dies before its completion.
Donnie's gloves are fashioned after the ones his dad used to wear in his Lou Jitsu days (with some modifications, for comfort and to make working with screens a little easier and less annoying.) The material they're made out of is far more durable, of course, since he's working with them near-constantly and under varying conditions. But maybe he designed them to look like this as a way of keeping his dad's memory close, similar to Leo's sword hilt?
Ironically, Donnie uses his ninpo probably the most consistently out of all the brothers (even though Mikey uses his to the greatest extent, hence his rapid aging). He's constantly using it to check on the base's security status and multitask while working on other projects. Because his ninpo takes a good deal of brain power to operate, it puts a significant amount of strain on his nervous system and this causes frequent complications. Seizures, spasms, and blackouts become a semi-regular occurrence - especially in the latter part of his life. Donnie does his best to manage them, but the workload makes it almost impossible to do so properly. Mikey is able to help with these attacks when they happen, but Donnie - not wanting his brother to overuse his powers any more than he is already - usually opts to just ride it out and save the mystic healing for people who need it. The exception to this rule being when he's in the middle of an extremely important procedure and can't stop long enough to let the attack pass naturally, then he has no choice but to accept Mikey's aid.
This is probably needless to say at this point, but much like Leo and his other brothers, he is a giant. Equal in height to Leo (if not slightly taller, even without the goggles.) The doodle in the top-left corner of the sketch page where he's next to April is meant to be them sitting, so don't take it as anywhere near an accurate representation of their height comparison. It is not, he dwarfs her by several feet, lol.
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murderedbyhomework · 10 months
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So like there's a few posts about mxtx protagonists waiting, and sometimes they add Shen Wei from Guardian by priest, and I think I've finally cracked the code. Some people think mxtx has a favourite trope of having one character wait, but Shen Wei is just here disproving that. So it's something else.
Okay so
Luo Binghe (top) : I waited 5 years
Mo Ran (top) : I waited 5 years
Lan Wangji (top) : I waited 13 years
Hua Cheng (top) : I waited 800 years
Shen Wei (top) : I waited 10000 years
Chu Wanning (bottom) : yall waited??? I just tore apart spacetime and created an alternate dimension???
So basically if you're a danmei top you just wait and during that time calm down and accumulate top energy. And if you're a danmei bottom waiting is not an option because you're impatient.
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mishapen-dear · 10 months
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i keep thinking about bad's vacation outfit. mostly, i keep thinking about him not wearing armour.
bad is, fundamentally, not okay rn. his son got kidnapped. the code attacks are starting again. people keep going missing left and right and skeppy isn't here but he's been missing him from the start. he lost the election by a single islander vote. there's been a lot of pressure on him for a long time, and he's finally starting to crack.
the thing about bad is that he does NOTT talk about his emotions. he's silly about it. he plays games about it. he will never answer a straightforward question with a yes or a no, not unless he's lying. when forever asked him he was okay, he said yes.
i think... there's really something about him, repeatedly, saying he's on vacation. sure, yeah, take a break, but he keeps throwing himself into danger anyway, he's still taking care of the eggs. he's silly with it, but i don't think his "vacation" explicitly means "i'm taking a break." I think it means "i'm not someone you can rely on right now." what? not being at the top of the island/egg defence squad because he's falling apart at the seams? :D nahhh he's just on that vacation grind! look at him! he's so silly! he's building skeppies and he's being so silly !
and. god. the way he's absolutely clinging to skeppy right now. i get the sense that he takes a lot of comfort from skeppy, just from the existence of him. can you imagine being alive has long as bad has? losing and losing and losing and losing, and then you finally find someone you can't lose? skeppy is bad's emotional support diamond and he is Not There to emotionally support him. bad keeps throwing tantrums when people ignore him, and he keeps building skeppies.
he's never going to say he needs help. he's never going to say he's not okay. he's going to say "i'm not crazy" and "i don't have an obsession" and "yes i'm fine" and "i'm on vacation" and not wear his most protective armour. the ARMOUR. bad boy halo the most paranoid parent on the island keeps running around with several eggs at his heels when he's wearing only enchanted sunglasses and boots. WHEN THERE ARE ACTUAL CODE ATTACKS. WHEN THE CODE HAS THE ! SWORD. if "i'm on vacation" means "i can't help" then the lack of armour is a physical, visible reminder. it's the closest he can get to saying "no, i'm not okay."
and man.manm an man. the whole thing with dapper right now. dapper is the only one who really knows the extent of bad Being Weird right now. pomme has a good idea of it, but when she asked about bad "is he going insane again?" dapper's response was "he never stopped." i've seen lots of talk about bad needing dapper more than dapper needs him (and its TRUE. god. it's so true.) but dapper is also! not doing okay! kiddo was very recently kidnapped! he takes after his dad and doesn't overtly express his distress, but the way he was scared of getting too close to elquackity at the talent show... the way he and pomme huddled together when bad left them alone for an hour... he's watching his dad fall apart in front of him, and there's nothing he can do about it.
from a roleplaying perspective too i LOVEE how bad is slowly, slowly ramping up the skeppy obsession. he's clinging to sanity so he can be a good dad to his kids, but his kids are so mortal. so fragile. bad isn't; bad isn't wearing all of his armour. and skeppy isn't; bad is placing more skeppies around the island. i adore this man's roleplay i hope he gets WORSE
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dkettchen · 4 months
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(After several weeks of pants agony that is still not quite over) I think I've finally cracked the code so
have an illustrated darts/fullness/etc pattern drafting master post!
(incl. how to take in women's tops for flat(ter) chests! among many other applications)
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If you're interested in dart manipulation specifically, do also check out TheClosetHistorian's video on it! She shows how the pattern makes the shape using paper, and shows more places darts can go on a bodice.
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qwertyprophecy · 2 months
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Update on The Dark Queen of Mortholme!
Phase one is now essentially completed for art, code and dialogue. Onwards to phase two; because every good boss fight needs that part where the boss gets unhinged and gains a whole new set of attacks.
I too have chosen to be unhinged and made a design for the Queen's final form that gobbles up animation work hours like nothing I've done before with pixel art.
Concept sketches under the cut:
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Initially I didn't have any ideas beyond doing a more monstrous design that amps up the Queen's features and takes cues from the shapes and colours of her original spell animations. However after writing the dialogue leading up to the transformation I immediately landed on a specific concept.
The transformation is an outburst. It's a manifestation of the Queen's terror and defiance towards her approaching death. She's unraveling, and in doing so she's channeling more of her innate violent power that she doesn't usually let out. She's essentially been having a long argument with the Hero about who they believe they are. Thus far she's gotten by being all smug and detached, but now she's losing and forced to reveal more of her true self to continue.
So her final form's design should convey 1. an outburst, and 2. the unraveling of a false front. Her base design's spikes, hair and skirt all erupt out into the wilder shape language of her shadowy spell-tendrils. They can handily be used to draw the eye from all directions towards the center of her chest, where I wanted to have this cracking pattern, like something hidden inside her is coming out. It's bright as if blindingly powerful, yet the cracks make her seem more damaged and vulnerable than her base form.
Continuing with the theme of an inner self showing through, the skirt's interior is also more visible than before. The flared jellyfish-esque shape connects with the deep sea vibe of the tentacles and contributes to the drama of a nonhuman silhouette.
A big thing for the silhouette is of course the massive hands. What's the thematic explanation for those? Absolutely nothing, I just think they look cool and dangerous.
Finally, lot of asymmetry was also introduced, both to increase the visual interest of such a large sprite, and to make her look like she's really losing it.
---
A note on animating this monstrosity: I've been trying to come up with a whole lot of cheats to keep a complex sprite like this as animated as possible without spending the rest of my life making this game. Early on I decided she should float, just so her idle animation can also be a moving one.
Secondly, the sprite is cut up to pieces so that I can keep reusing the loop of the writhing tentacles while moving her hands, for example. This is not something I like doing because in believable animation, motion in one part of the body always affects the other parts of the body. Treating a character as one entire whole when animating will make them feel more tangible, but alas, it's a compromise to avoid spending a hundred years in pixel-pushing jail. Like, I would love to see those tendrils flutter around behind her as she swoops across the room for her attacks, but... it'll be a lot more reasonable to move her as little as possible and instead add oomph to her attacks with some effects animations.
Anyways thank you for reading about monstrosity, she might be a pain in the butt to move but she brings me joy
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guilty-pleasures21 · 3 months
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I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA ABOUT JASON
IMAGINE JASON DATING AN S/O WHO'S ALSO A WEREWOLF OR SMTHN SIMILAR--- I'M THINKING OF BITING RN. BITING JASON. WITH CANINES. OR FANGS. GROWLING WHEN YOU REALISE HE'S BLAMING HIMSELF FOR SMTHN. MORE BITING AND HIM LIKING IT.
(ughh some days i just wanna top that man and see him trying and failing to not be submissive as hell)
I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM BTW!!!
~ 🐺anon
Ahh! @🐺anon thank you so much!
Okay, so I'm actually a HUGE vampire nerd (I've never seen/read Twilight, but I have other recommendations if people are interested!) and funnily enough, I only realised when one of my friends pointed out to me my suspiciously extensive knowledge of vampires once back in school. (And I also found out my best friend was secretly OBSESSED with werewolves - she used to read all the Patricia Briggs books and I called her out on it one day? 🤣)
BUT ANYWAY! I really love wolf-coded guys? Like, the fangs and the claws and the pure masculine dominance and need to protect their mate (I FELL IN LOVE WITH MIGUEL BEFORE KNOWING ANY OF THIS ABOUT HIM THOUGH OKAY?!! 🥺).
P.S. I was actually working on a Dick Grayson fanfic loosely based off of Red Riding/Beauty and the Beast once, so ... 😳😅
The monster
Jason's already told you all his secrets. Are you ready to tell him yours?
Warnings: mentions of trauma, descriptions of sex including blowjob (f & m receiving), fisting (m receiving) and penetration (p in v).
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She rang the doorbell, then knocked on his door when he still hadn’t answered.
“Jay!” X yelled through the door. “You know I'm gonna find some other way to come in!”
She waited patiently for a few moments, then finally, he opened the door. “What?!”
X reflected his expression back at him, her eyebrows scrunching together in irritation. “Rude!”
Jason clenched his jaw at her response and tightened his grip on the edge of the door. “Not tonight, X.”
X folded her arms across her chest. “I came all this way and you're just going to turn me away at the door?! At least let me use your bathroom first!”
Jason rolled his eyes and sighed before heading back into his apartment. He left the door open behind him, but didn’t speak a word to her as he trudged back into his bedroom. It must have been really bad then. But was it because of a mission or another nightmare? She shouldn't have left him alone last night, but she'd had no choice! It was the full moon, after all, and her parents would have killed her if she’d missed it.
She took her bag off and set it down on the kitchen island before tiptoeing into Jason's bedroom. He was lying on his side of the bed, even when she wasn't there to take up the empty space beside him, and her heart cracked at the sight. She slid onto her stomach next to him, taking care to keep that bit of distance between them. Then she turned to face him. “You don't have to talk about it, but you don't have to take it out on me.”
Jason sighed, knowing she was right - wanting to believe that she was right. But it was difficult to undo years of damage in just a few months. And even though she always encouraged him about the progress she saw him making, some days, he felt like life hadn't moved at all; like he was still trapped in that abandoned warehouse, waiting for someone to want him enough to come rescue him. He removed his arm from over his face, but continued to avoid her gaze. X watched him quietly, giving him the time he needed. Then finally, he glanced over at her - her thick hair trailing across her pillow, her long limbs sprawled out over his bed. He shuffled closer to her and she turned onto her side so he could snuggle against her, his arm coming around her waist as he buried his face in her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair, still waiting patiently.
“How-” He broke off as his voice cracked and took a moment to compose himself. “Why do you love me?” ‘Why do love me? What do you love about me? What in me is worth loving?’. That was what he was really asking her to tell him. She continued to stroke his hair, trying to find the right words to comfort him.
“Hmm,” she contemplated. “You're really sweet, Jay. I know you think that everyone thinks you're this big, bad, tough guy who just hates everything, but you care so much about the things that are important to you.” Jason tightened his grip on her, wanting so badly to believe what she was saying, to believe that he was good, so she continued.
“You always fight so hard to give everyone the opportunity to be good; to give them a choice and teach them all the different reasons they should make the right decision. You put everything into what you believe in, even at the cost of yourself.” She paused to press a kiss to the top of his head and he finally relaxed a little. “You're gentle and attentive and so caring; so deserving of all the love in the entire world and I will fight everyone to give it to you!”
Jason let out a soft snicker at the thought of his tiny little girlfriend beating people up for him. Then he tensed up again. “But … But I've hurt people. I've done bad things.”
Her response was immediate.
“We've all done bad things, Jay - we're only human.” Mostly. “But you've never hurt anyone … You've only hurt those who have hurt hundreds of other people! And in doing that, you've given all those other people a chance at life. At a better life. You basically do what everyone complains about God not doing.”
He pulled back slightly to raise an eyebrow at her in disbelief: had she just compared him to God? X shuffled closer to him and cupped his cheek in her hand, her fingers brushing along the stubble sprinkled around his jaw.
“You serve justice - even if it doesn't look so pretty sometimes,” she added. “Like karma.” Her eyes lit up at the thought.
“Ooh! Should we change your vigilante name to that?” she suggested excitedly. “That's such a cool name: Karma. And you'd have such cool catchphrases too!”
Jason couldn’t stop the smile that creeped across his face at her enthusiasm. He'd revealed his identity to her a few weeks before they'd started dating, secretly thrilled that the cute friend he'd made at the library months ago was already so enamoured with his alter ego. She liked how firm he was, she'd always say; how he wasn't afraid to make sure that everyone got what they deserved. She'd scare Dick and Steph sometimes, with how intense she could be, but he loved it - he loved her. Even though he still hadn't found the courage to say it just yet. He stroked her back gently, delighting in how soft she was. “I'm not changing my name, X.”
Her eyes widened as she looked up at him - like a little puppy. She'd remind him of one sometimes, bouncing around with her infectious enthusiasm, rambling on about something interesting she'd found without stopping taking a breath. He could practically see her wagging her imaginary little tail whenever she got excited. “Then can I do it? Can I become a vigilante like you?”
She held her fists close to her mouth, almost whimpering as she begged him for it - just like a little puppy. Jason ruffled her hair fondly and tugged her a little closer to him. “I don't want you to ever be in danger because of me.”
“Then keep me safe!” she responded quickly, grinning like it was that easy, that simple.
Jason snuck his hand beneath the hem of her shirt and scratched her skin lightly as he studied her. Then he pulled her into his chest and pressed his lips into her hair.
“I'll keep you safe,” he promised her. “I'll keep you safe, sweetheart.” He hesitated after saying it, thinking about it. If he was being honest, he didn't want her to get involved in that part of his life because he never wanted her to see that side of him: to see him for the monster he really was. And maybe it was selfish of him, but … what other choice did he have?
“X …” he began slowly.
“Hmm?” She tilted her head back to look up at him.
“Do you … Do you ever get scared of me?” he asked her quietly. “Do you ever think … I could be a monster?”
He looked so sad as he said it, his voice all soft and terrified. And she wanted to beat up whoever had ever made him feel that way. She frowned.
“Why would I ever get scared of you, Jay? You keep me safe, remember?” Her brows remained creased as she watched him consider her response. Then her heart leapt into her throat as she realised that this was the best opening she was ever going to get. “But Jay … Even if … Even if you thought you were a monster … I'd say that we can be monsters together.” She curled into herself and peeked up at him nervously, then let her eyes glow gold in the dim light of the moon streaming in through the windows.
He did a double take, unsure if he’d just seen what he thought he saw. Had her eyes just … flashed gold?! Or had it just been a reflection of something? “What?”
X bit her lip and sat up, avoiding his gaze.
“What if … What if I told you I was a monster?” she asked him carefully. “Would you still love me then?” Sure, he'd never said it, but she knew that he loved her - how could she not when he was always looking after her and buying her little gifts, planning small surprises for her and showering her with all his affection whenever they were together? But she'd been selfish - she'd fallen in love with the poetic boy with the white streak in his hair from their first conversation in the library and ever since then, she hadn't been able to stomach the thought of ever losing him.
Jason sat up, bewildered. Why was she suddenly acting so strangely?
“Of course!” he assured her firmly. He reached out to cup her cheeks. “Of course I'd …”
“I'd still want you,” he finished lamely. “Even then.”
X turned her face away from his, her stomach roiling with nerves. But she had to tell him - she couldn’t keep lying to him forever. “I'd never hurt you, Jay! You know that, right?”
“Of course I know that,” he assured her, turning her face back to his. “Of course I know you'd never hurt me, princess. But why are you talking like this? What happened?”
X dug her fingers into the mattress, wincing in anticipation of his response.
“I belong to a family that …” Ugh, it was like pulling teeth! Or fangs. Maybe she should just come out and say it. “I can turn into a wolf! Sometimes. But I don't hurt anyone! I'd never hurt anyone, Jay! Especially not you!” She looked up at him with wide eyes, the fear scrawled all over her face, and his breath caught in his throat: he'd never had anyone afraid to lose him. Not him, never him.
“W-What … What are you talking about?” He rubbed his thumb along her cheek, waiting for a better explanation.
X whimpered nervously as she curled into herself. “I can … I can show you?”
A wolf?! She could turn into a wolf?! What the f*ck?! What the hell was he supposed to say to that?! He let his hand fall from her face and shrugged, wanting to put her at ease. “Okay.”
She stood up and went over to the window to pull the curtains open. She took a moment to soak in the moonlight, letting its power wash over her, then she turned back to him, allowing him to see her for who she really was.
Jason’s jaw dropped at the sight of her golden eyes, her elongated canines, her sharp claws. What the actual f*ck?!
“I'm not … I can turn into a full wolf, if I wanted to, but I'd be too big.” She glanced around the room after saying it, imagining her large wolf form trying to squeeze into the space between his bed and his window. Then she lowered her head and waited for his response.
She still seemed the same: still spoke the same, still acted the same, still curled into herself with fear in anticipation of his response in the same way. He narrowed his eyes at her thoughtfully. “How?”
“It runs in my family,” X admitted, brushing her hair behind her ear. “I've been able to do it since I was young.”
“Does it hurt?” Jason asked her. X shook her head quickly, still keeping her distance from him so she wouldn't scare him.
“No!” Jason sat in silence for a moment, thinking. Then he waved her over to him.
“Come here,” he commanded. X walked forward, but then stopped at the foot of the bed, still avoiding his gaze.
She was out of the moonlight now, but she wasn't changing back. “You don't need to be in the moonlight to do that?”
“Only for the first transformation of the night,” she explained. “Then I can do it whenever I want. It only lasts for about twelve hours though. Then I'd need the moonlight again.”
She didn't seem to have a problem speaking around her fangs. Would he have trouble kissing her though? He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and gestured for her to get on his lap. “Come here.”
She curled her fingers around his shoulders nervously and straddled his lap. Jason placed his hands on her waist and took a moment to study her body. She was still as soft as she always was, still as warm. But wait. Was that a tail? His lips twitched as he ran his fingers along her silky fur. “You have a tail?”
“Mmhmm!” She nodded enthusiastically in agreement, but her eyes were still wide with fear. And Jason could help but let out a huff of amusement at the irony of the situation: there he'd been, terrified that she wouldn't accept him once she knew the truth about him, and now here she was, asking him to do the same. He glided the hand that wasn’t stroking her tail up her back and around her waist, checking to see if everything else was still the same. He reached up to cup her cheek in his hand when he was satisfied, then he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. He kissed her slowly, cautiously, taking care to not cut his tongue on her fangs.
He was kissing her! He was really kissing her! But did that mean that he was okay with it? Or was he just testing it out? She pulled back slowly, then squeezed her arms to her chest, avoiding his gaze as she did so. “Are you … Are you okay with it? With me being a monster?”
Her voice was just a whisper as she said it, and she glanced up at him nervously. He tilted her face up to his and smiled. “We can be monsters together.”
X grinned as he repeated her words, and she started kissing him again, her movements a little hungrier, a little less careful this time. She pushed him down onto the bed and Jason chuckled at her eagerness. She looked so cute like this, her tail wagging with joy at his acceptance of her, her lips curled into that happy smile as she looked at him. She bent over to nip at his earlobe and Jason sucked in a breath as she began trailing her teeth down his skin, a delighted growl escaping her throat everytime her fangs pricked his skin. He slid his hands beneath the hem of her shirt and crawled his fingers up her skin cautiously, and she sat up to let him take her shirt off.
Her skin almost seemed to glow beneath the moonlight, and he sucked in a breath at the sight before looking up at her in question. They’d had sex before, of course, but this was … different. This time, they'd expose all of themselves to each other, every ugly piece of them they both thought should be locked away forever. X curled her fingers around the hem of his shirt, taking care to not scratch him with her claws. Then she nodded.
He kept his eyes fixed on her chest as he took her bra off, then he licked his lips hungrily when she was bare before him. She was so f*cking beautiful; more now than she’d ever been before, so completely herself, so utterly unafraid. He turned them over so she was lying beneath him, then slowly slid off her jeans and underwear. Shit, she was hot: her smooth skin, her soft curves, her silky curls. He stood up to take his own clothes off, then knelt down on the floor, settling himself between her legs. He tugged her to him, pulling her knees onto her shoulders, then began pressing soft kisses to the insides of her thighs, his teeth closing around her flesh occasionally to tug on her skin.
She pushed herself to her hands, wanting to look at him, but then he was dragging his tongue up her length and closing his lips around her clit and her head was falling back in pleasure. Jason continued licking and sucking on her like he was trying to make out with her p*ssy and she shuddered as she felt herself getting wetter and wetter.
“Hngrh … J-Jay …” X twisted her claws into the bedsheet, her body trembling as he continued to arouse her.
F*ck, she was cute, the helpless little whimpers that kept escaping from her lips as he continued to eat her out slowly? It drove him crazy. “I guess the transformation doesn't affect your sensitivity, huh, sweetheart?”
He chuckled against her pulsing p*ssy and X let out a surprised yelp as her leg twitched in response. Jason ran his fingers up and down her thighs as he gave a low moan of satisfaction. “Mmm. You gonna come for me, princess? Already?”
He closed his lips around her folds and gently pulled them into his mouth before lazily dribbling his tongue along her length. F*ck, she tasted sweet.
He was so good, so gentle and slow, her Jason, always taking his time to appreciate the taste of her on his tongue. She shuddered as he let out another low moan and started moving her hips against his mouth to get him to go faster. But Jason pulled back instead and chuckled at her impatience. X growled at the sudden absence of his mouth and bared her teeth at him in a snarl. Jason flashed her a smug smirk in response as he stood up and leaned over her.
“You think I'm scared of you, princess?” He asked, gripping her chin tightly and turning her face up to his. “With those cute little puppy dog eyes of yours?” He snickered as she continued to glare at him, then he bent over to press a kiss to her lips.
X loosened her grip on the bed sheets when she felt his tongue brushing across hers. She'd always been a bit of an outcast within her pack: the male wolves would always go for someone bigger, stronger - a mate who would be able to give them many children and help them hunt for and look after the rest of the pack. It wasn't their fault - just a part of their DNA - but it didn't make it hurt any less. She gasped as Jason reached up to cup her breast, his mouth moving to trail along her neck and shoulder instead. But here was a man, big and strong and always ready to defend his pack, worshipping her body like she was some kind of angel he was blessed to be able to lay his hands upon. If only he could see himself in the same way; in the way she saw him. She steeled herself so her voice wouldn't shake when she next spoke. “Jason.”
“Hmm?” he grunted, continuing to trail his lips and hands all over her body. F*ck, she tasted so sweet.
He wasn't listening to her and she was starting to get a little frustrated at the smugness in his voice. So she grabbed him by the waist and flung him onto the bed.
“Whoa!” Jason exclaimed, caught off guard. Then he turned to grin at her. “How'd you do that?!”
X kept her face scrunched into a frown as she climbed on top of him and pinned his wrists against the bed. “It's my wolf strength. Now shut up!”
He stopped talking, but continued to smile at her, amused by how cute she still looked despite her wickedly sharp canines; she looked more like a puppy than a wolf, glaring down at him with her beautiful, round eyes. X huffed in irritation when she saw that he still wasn't taking her seriously.
“Tell me where it hurts, Jay,” she demanded. Jason shut his mouth and raised an eyebrow at her, his lips curling at the ends in teasing. X shoved him into the mattress in warning. “Jason!”
Jason lets out a little snicker. She was so powerful - a full-on wolf when she wanted to be! - and yet, she was still so vulnerable before him.
“What?” he finally relented. “What do you want me to tell you, princess?”
X began to hesitate, her resolve weakening as she contemplated what she wanted to ask of him. “I want … I want you to tell me … all the parts of you that you think aren't worth loving.”
His breath caught in his throat at that and he felt his heart skip a beat. “W-What?”
X let go his wrists and sat back, taking a moment to assess his body. Her fingers trailed over all of his scars and bruises and she repeated herself, her tone more firm this time. “Tell me all the parts of you that you think aren't worth loving.”
Jason swallowed hard, his heart resuming its beats, but much faster this time. He shifted uncomfortably in position, so she curled up on his chest, her big dark eyes looking up at him as she held him down. He clenched and unclenched his fists, then turned away from her, ashamed.
“My mouth.” Something easy, he'd start with something easy. “Someone always gets hurt whenever I open it. I've always been told that I have a big mouth.” X smiled and crawled up over him to trace the curve of his lips with her finger.
“All the better to kiss with,” she joked. She pressed her lips to his and kissed him slowly, pouring all her affection into him. Then she pulled back. “What else?”
Jason's chest started heaving with shallow breaths as the anxiety began to creep in. He was going to do this, he was really going to do this: tear himself open and let her see all the vulnerable bits he tried so hard to hide. “M-My … My hands. All they do is take and take and take.”
X lifted his hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss to his palm. Then she began listing all the things he'd taken from her, stopping to nip each of his fingers in between.
“They take my sadness. They take my pain. They take my loneliness. They take my tears. They take my hunger.” She placed his hand on her waist when she was done, then she took hold of his other one to do the same. “They take my sorrow. They take my fear. They take my nightmares. They take my ignorance. They take my insecurities.”
She placed his hand on the other side of her waist and continued. “What else?”
Jason swallowed hard, the pressure beginning to build up behind his eyes as he digested her words. How could she do that? How could she take all of his self-loathing, all of his hurt and his pain … and turn it into something so beautiful?
“My shoulders,” he choked out helplessly. “They're not strong enough to carry the weight of … of his expectations.” She lowered herself back on top of him and rubbed his shoulder gently, knowing exactly who he was talking about. She scratched his skin lightly with her claw, leaving a faint red line, then she smiled down at him, her eyes glowing in the dark again as she did so.
“They carry mine perfectly fine.” She bent over and sank her fangs into his shoulder, just enough to draw a surprised hiss out of him, but not enough to hurt him - he'd already had enough pain to last a lifetime. Longer, even. She bit him softly, then pulled back and began reciting all the expectations he'd taught her she was allowed to have of someone. “Brave.”
X moved her mouth higher up his shoulder and nipped at his brawny muscle again.
“Sweet.” Nip. “Patient.” She moved to his other shoulder when she ran out of space.
“Thoughtful. Attentive. Generous.” She sat up again and fixed him with a challenging look. “Is there anything else?”
Jason tightened his grip on her waist and, this time, his voice cracked with pain when he spoke. “I'm broken. I'm so broken, X.”
X gave him a soft smile and traced one of the scars on his shoulder.
“You're not broken, Jace. You're all stitched up! Here.” She brushed her fingers down his scar, then moved on to another. “And here.”
She repeated the phrase, her fingers sliding along his skin, her claws outlining each of his hideous scars. Then when she was done, she bent over and nipped at each of them, her fangs pricking his skin delightfully. She took hold of his cock when she reached his abdomen, curling her fingers around it and moving it aside. But then she began stroking him gently, her thumb rubbing across his slit as she dragged her fangs along the inside of his thighs.
“X …” Jason breathed, clutching onto the bed sheets as his arousal began to intensify. X raised her head to grin at him, her tail wagging happily behind her. Jason pushed himself up to his elbows, glancing down at his body to see what she'd done, and his heart squeezed in his chest. Where before he'd had scars, now he was showered with little bite marks, the imprint of her fangs scattered across his body as she'd claimed him as her own. X sat up, her fingers still stroking his cock carefully, and smiled down at his body.
“They're not scars anymore, Jay,” she told him, brushing her fingers across his rough skin tenderly. “They're all the places I've marked you.”
She looked up at him, eyes glinting gold with mischief and glee. “You don't belong to Death anymore, Jason Todd - you belong to me.”
Jason reached up to cup her cheek and pull her closer to him so he could start kissing her. He kissed her hard, aggressive, licking into her mouth thirstily like she was the only thing that could soothe the aching emptiness inside of him. X giggled as she kissed him back, then she yelped in surprise when he pushed her down onto the bed beneath him. She gasped and twisted her fingers in his hair as he began pressing his lips and teeth all over her body, marking her like she'd marked him.
“I belong to you,” Jason recited feverishly, like the words were a prayer on his lips. “I'm yours. All yours, baby. All yours, X.” He squeezed her breast in his hand, then growled and nipped at the other before dragging his tongue across her nipple. X whimpered and curled her toes as her legs twitched with arousal. Then she let out a helpless moan when Jason sucked hard on her breast before releasing her with a wet ‘pop’.
“You like that?” he teased her, making his way down her abdomen, nibbling on her soft skin and leaving small bruises all over her body. “You like it when I mark you like this, princess? When I …” He trailed off as he reached her centre, her sweet little p*ssy all blushing and dripping just for him. He growled again at the sight, then pushed his mouth into her folds and groaned at the taste of her before drinking her up.
“You're all mine,” he declared. “You're all mine, X, all mine, princess.”
She whimpered and moaned again as her walls began to throb with arousal, the intensity of it causing her body to contract hard. “J-Jason!”
“F*ck,” he breathed. He flipped her over and started licking her up from behind, his fingers digging into her ass to spread her apart as he dragged his tongue along her length. X twisted her fingers into the bedsheets, her claws ripping the soft fabric as she did so.
“Jay!” she squealed helplessly. Jason bit down on her ass, his teeth sinking into her skin delightfully, then he held her tail down so he could start making his way up her body.
“You're so perfect,” he murmured, his words slurred with desire. “So perfect, baby. So pretty, so f*cking pretty.”
She shuddered as he trailed his lips up her spine, her entire body so sensitive from how badly he'd stimulated her already. Then finally, he reached her neck and she found the strength to push herself up to shrug him off of her. He rolled over onto his back and she pounced on him quickly before he could get up.
He looked up at her, his eyes glazed over with lust, a dazed expression on his rugged features. He was so handsome when he was confused, when he was completely at her mercy like this.
“W-What?” he stammered out, puzzled. X placed her hands on his shoulders, then dragged them down his chest, her claws leaving a faint trail of pink down his torso. Jason sucked in a breath at the pleasant sting of it, then she turned around on top of him and settled her p*ssy over his mouth. Her tail flicked playfully at his nose as she took hold of his cock and began licking the insides of his thighs and he grabbed onto her ass instinctively, digging his fingers into her skin.
“F*ck!” He tried to continue eating her out again, to suck on her and lick her up and please her, but he was just too distracted by the feeling of her fingers teasing his tip to do anything besides pressing soft kisses along her length.
X fisted his cock as he suckled on her clit, her body giving a hard contraction that had her curling her back involuntarily. “Hngrh …”
She pushed her hips against his mouth and Jason let out a satisfied groan at the feeling. He started lapping at her folds, picking up the pace of his movements, and she whined.
“J-Jay … Stop …” He didn't listen, so she started running her tail across his face, stroking his cheeks and tickling him softly. Finally, he released her, his head falling back onto the mattress against his own will.
“F*ck!” he exclaimed. X continued to run her tail across his neck and shoulders as she began licking his cock, her silky fur brushing against his skin teasingly. Jason held his breath, overwhelmed by the feeling of her all over him; her tail around his neck, her c*m leaking onto his chest, her breasts pressing into his abdomen. He bucked his hips as she lowered her mouth onto his cock, pushing it deeper in so that his tip hit the back of her throat. X growled at the feeling and he muttered another curse when he felt the vibrations racing down his length to his core. X trailed her tongue up his length, tracing the veins in his shaft. Then she shook her head like he was a toy she was playing with and his hips lifted off the bed again as his dick slapped against the insides of her cheeks.
“F*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck!” Jason swore, his brain turning completely numb with pleasure. “X … Stop … Princess, I want …” She refused to listen to him, happily sucking on his cock as he dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her ass. He groaned and pulled her back, settling her hips back over his face. X yelped in surprise, then flopped over him and started whining again when he shoved his tongue straight into her hole.
“J-Jay!” He groaned against her and she shivered as his low voice sank into her skin and danced along her bones. Then she ripped herself away from him and turned around so that their centres were perfectly aligned. The both of them paused for a second, chests panting with shallow breaths as they took each other in. Then Jason took hold of himself and tugged her down onto him. She sucked in a breath when she felt all of him filling up all of her, then she threw her head back with pleasure and started riding him.
“H-Hold … Hold on, princess …” Jason's voice shook as he bounced against the bed with the force of her movements. But he eventually managed to push himself up and grabbed her by the waist to lift her up slightly. She growled and snapped at him with her fangs, but he just chuckled and held her in position.
“Calm down, princess,” he reassured her lazily. “Just tryna get comfortable.” He shuffled up the mattress to lean back against the headboard, then loosened his hold on her, to allow her to continue.
X began rolling her hips against him again, her movements hard and fast. Shit! He felt so good! His thick cock stuffing her completely, his swollen tip hitting that one spot that had her entire body relaxing with pleasure. She could feel a howl starting to build up deep inside of her, a call to her mate, a warning to mark her territory. But there were still some parts of her she was too ashamed to share with him, so she did her best to swallow it back down.
She kept whining and whimpering, like she was trying hard to silence herself. But he didn't want her to silence herself - he wanted her to let him in, to feel safe enough with him to let him see all of her. “What's wrong … princess?”
“H-H-Hooowl …” X winced as the urge continued to press against her throat.
“Y-You … You wanna howl?” Jason asked, another wave of desire hitting him as she made her eyes all round and sweet.
She nodded eagerly, her features still scrunched up in embarrassment. Jason tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You can howl if you want, princess.”
His voice was low and gravelly as he said it and she found herself unable to hold back anymore. She pushed him against the headboard and finally let out a shy and adorable little howl.
“F*ck.” How the f*ck was she so cute?! Jason buried his face in her breasts and glided his hands along her sides and up her back. He tugged on her nipple with his teeth then circled it with his tongue before sucking on her. X whined at the sensation and let out another soft howl as she continued to bounce on his cock. “Shit.”
Jason released her breast and his head fell back against the headboard as she slammed him against it again. X yipped happily when she saw the dazed look on his face, then she curled herself around him to nip at his ear. Jason winced and tightened his grip on her before letting out another curse. “F*ck!”
X giggled against his neck and slowed down a little, rolling her hips slower, but harder, against him. God, he felt good, thick and warm and filling her up so very nicely. She gripped onto his hair as her body shuddered, her p*ssy pulsing around him desperately as she came for him.
“F*ck.” Jason kept his arms around her as his entire body tightened, and then he was coming too, his c*m shooting into her cervix and coating her walls with his seed. X slumped over against him, her entire body relaxing at the feeling of his warm semen inside of her. Then she closed her eyes and took a moment to listen to his heartbeat, the steady sound of it soothing her. They stayed like that for a while, the both of them holding each other in silence. Then finally, “I love you.”
It was so soft that she almost didn't hear it at first. She transformed her ears and angled them towards him in question. Did he … Had he really said it? After months of her being the only one who would? Jason let out a small laugh, then pressed a kiss to the top of her head before repeating himself. “I love you, X.”
X sat up to grin at him, her tail wagging furiously behind her. “I love you too, Jay.”
101 notes · View notes
weebsinstash · 3 months
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Now that I saw that doodle Vox made again, I'm just wondering how tf he knew Alastor has hooves
Also noticed that he was a lil fixated on Al's ass in that same doodle so there's that :>
I literally searched the Hazbin wiki for the source and couldn't find it but I've seen multiple people posting some screenshot of some website that says, Velvette previously stated Vox had an Alastor body pillow, and I don't know if that's an old Voxtagram post or more recent but it's been living in my head rent free ever since
Like there have been so many Viv streams and q&a's that have mildly spoiled things or mentioned facts that have since become non canon so I'm not sure what to listen to anymore but dude, reading the wiki of all the amalgamated facts is A TRIP. Vox is Actually Totally Correct: despite Alastor having his gentlemanly persona and some weird "serial killer moral code, like dexter", he canonically has awful oral hygiene and both Vivzie and... Fautisse? Have mentioned this. His demon form has black gums. Vivzie said he "probably doesn't prioritize oral hygiene" and also probably wasn't a cannibal in life so that's literally a new hobby he picked up in death so also um. THE SECOND THIS MAN HAD FREE REIGN AND THERE WAS NO RULE OF LAW OR CONSEQUENCES HE DECIDED TO START EATING PEOPLE SO LET THAT SINK IN.
You start reading Alastor's wiki page and it makes it pretty clear he's like DERANGED, hypocritical, he's like borderline a megalomaniac? It's all hidden behind this, persona, this wall he puts up, his well put together demeanor that allegedly never cracks, but underneath his showmanship he's a haughty, insecure, judgy, gossipy, genuine FREAK who responds with insults and violence whenever he can who relishes in trolling people and scaring them, literally enjoys knowing when he's making people uncomfortable
I have so many conflicting feelings but like PRETTY SURE HIS VERSE IN THE FINALE WAS A VILLAIN SONG, HE'S LITERALLY SINGING ABOUT BEING PISSED AND WANTING TO RETALIATE BECAUSE HE'S BEING FORCED TO DO STUFF HE DOESN'T WANT TO
THUS
I AM CONVINCED VOX IS JUST A BOTTOM AND A SLUT WHO THINKS ALASTOR IS JUST REALLY COOL AND HAS A ONE SIDED PATHETIC BOY CRUSH
Bro the sound I fucking made when his wiki trivia says he's been described as "painfully white, like phlegm in the back of your throat white" NO DONT DO MY TV MAN LIKE THIS 😭🤣
Anyways, you've probably seen the posts but for someone who claims to be so hip and modern, Vox goes out of his way to dress similarly to Alastor. The coat with lapels in the front and a tail in the back, a bow tie with a cravat, cuffed sleeves, intentionally or not the color contrast of Vox's hands resembles Alastor's and Vox CAN customize his body...
He's just. I just completely forget sometimes that Alastor literally called him OLD PAL in episode 3 and yes he was obviously saying it to talk down to him but like ALASTOR DID ACKNOWLEDGE HISTORY BETWEEN THEM, and also oh wait what's this, Vivzie has confirmed Vox and the Vees are major antagonists of Season 2 and that Vox and Alastor's history is going to be expanded upon so.... radiostatic shippers stay winning ha ha
I read a post that I meant to reblog that was something like "Vox is actually an incredibly cunning charismatic manipulative businessman who is a legitimate threat and we see this for all of 5 minutes and the second Alastor is mentioned he starts completely coming apart" and it's SO TRUE, he can be ur angel or ur devil. He's a legitimately OP threat and he's also A PATHETIC SAD FAILHUSBAND. Give me Vox who's efficiently marketing more hypnosis equipment to substantially grow his own wealth and manipulating his shareholders and then he's going back to his computer room with some popcorn and kicking his little feeties as he watches his darling and Alastor on like 30 different monitors. Give me Vox who can know the INSTANT someone is trying to go behind his back and double cross him because he has mass surveillance all over the city and he's using his endless resources to develop high end 3d printers to make posable figures of his crush and Alastor.
Give me Vox who loses his cool and insults you to your face and you two get into a huge argument and maybe Velvette and Valentino lash out at you in defense of him and he's going to his room and crying from frustration into his body pillows totally not plural, totally not ones of you and Alastor and calling himself a stupid idiot because he hurt your feelings and then spends the next like week SUFFOCATINGLY showing up almost every single place you are and embarrassing himself as he tries to bond with you and prove to you what CLEARLY AWESOME boyfriend material he is
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arxims · 24 days
Text
MOONSTRUCK prologue
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Returning to Seoul was a decision that you finally ended up in , given that it was the place where you spent your past years. Leaving your messed up past behind, you made the conscious choice to return to Seoul in order to breathe new life into your existence. Little did you know that this decision would change your life. For the good or bad. As you reconnected with an old friend from your past, you were introduced to his younger brother, whose presence became far more significant in your life in a twisted way than you thought.
genre/au : psychopath!Jungkook x fem!oc,angst, smut, non idol au, violence.
Warnings : swearing and explicit language, graphic depiction of violence and gore, lots of blood, mentions of rape, smut, sexual activity, toxic Jungkook, walking red flag Jungkook, gaslighting, manipulation, schizophrenia, psychopathic behavior red flag behavior, mentally disturbed characters, suicide, murder, depictions of torture, serial killing, relationship abuse, lots of trauma, depression, criminal behavior, murderous tenancies, possible major character death, mentions of child abuse, narcissism, did I mention psychopathy? Oc never learns,
Rating : mature
Word count :1k
Part 0/?
MASTERLIST
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The rooftops always held a special place in your heart, no matter the building. Even if it wasn't your own apartment, there was a sense of comfort that enveloped you on rooftops under the twinkling stars and the gentle glow of the moon. Your fondness for the moon was undeniable, and you had great pleasure in watching its serene presence in the night sky.
As you made your way to the rooftop railing, you gently pulled him along with you, holding his hand, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "Would you care to join me in stargazing, Mr. Jeon?" you inquired, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. You didn't need the vast expanse of the sky and a rooftop to admire the stars when you could see an entire galaxy reflected in his mesmerizing eyes.
Seating yourself at the edge, your legs dangled freely as you patted the space beside you, inviting him to share in the moment. He approached you with a casual grace, his hands tucked into the pockets of his sweater, his head shielded by the hood. "What is this little kitten up to?" he teased, leaning in closer to you.
“The little kitten has some things to say. Before that get your ass here”. You found more liking towards his playful side , preferring it over the man who stirred up both nerves and desire within you. Jungkookie was more to your liking. Granting your unspoken request, he took a seat beside you.
As he settled in, you wrapped his left arm with your own, resting your head gently on his shoulder. Physical touch was a language you both spoke fluently, and Jungkook had grown accustomed to your sudden displays of affection.
"Can you believe it's been a solid four months since we met?" you playfully nudged him, a sly grin on your face. That day etched itself into the hall of fame of your memory "And look at us now, still going strong," you teased. He just hummed then chuckled in response, a twinkle in his eye. "Oh, I know about it all (Y/N/N)," he quipped with a smirk.
"But, you don't know about the next thing I'm gonna tell you" You raised your head, fixing him with a serious look. With a grin, you gently cupped his cheeks, “ I think I might just be falling for you, Jungkook. It's been brewing for months, and I've finally cracked the code. I love you."
His lips curved into a sly smile, oozing confidence like it was going out of style. "Oh, I already knew that, too" he quipped, his cockiness practically radiating off him. "But let's be real, you don't love me."
"Excuse me? You're the expert on my feelings now?" You rolled your eyes, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement at his audacity.
He poked his cheek with his tongue, a chuckle escaping him that seemed to say, 'Oh, you sweet, naive thing.' "You're such a rookie, (Y/N). You barely scratched the surface with me.”.
"Jungkookie, I don't need to go into the depths of your past. Our future is not in our hands as well, as you told me. It's the present that matters, isn't it?" With a subtle tilt of your head, you silently pleaded for him to grasp your perspective.
"What if my present isn't as pleasant as you think.?" He mirrored your gesture, his expression leaving you in a state of confusion. Intentionally. “Life is not always sunshine and rainbows”
"I don't care about that .You called me naive. Well, then let me embrace that label," you declared, lifting your head slightly.
A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers traced a path from your neck to your earlobe, a familiar gesture. The goosebumps that formed on your skin could have been from the cool night air or the mere presence of his fingertips on your delicate skin, a sensation that left you questioning.
He finally spoke up, pausing his gentle caresses. "Tell me why then," he inquired, his voice soft yet demanding.
"I don't know why," you managed to whisper, your thoughts completely captivated by the galaxy he had trapped in his eyes. You felt as though you could lose yourself in their depths, finding solace in the vastness they held.
"That's not a proper answer , Sweetheart," he remarked, removing his hood. His semi-long hair mingled with the gentle city breeze that wafted continuously, adding a serene ambience to the surroundings.
After a moment of contemplation, you organized the thoughts swirling in your mind and found the words to express them. "You're my moon, Jungkook. You light up my dark world, even if it's just a faint glow."
A chuckle escaped him at your words. "But you see, moonlight is merely an illusion. The moon itself does not emit light. Yet, you choose to believe it does and live by it because it's comforting and convincing.”
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