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#to prove his love
literallyjusttoa · 11 months
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I decided to hold off the rest of my Apollo & Hozier post until the full album came out, but I just gotta say Apollo would inject Francesca into his bloodstream. And also it’s specifically about Apollo and Commodus. Like,
“My life was a storm, since I was born, how could I fear the hurricane?”
And Commodus is the hurricane?? Are you KIDDING me. And then,
“It was too soon, when that part of you was ripped away. A grip taking hold, like a cancer that grows, Each part of your body that it takes.”
I mean COME ON. I’ve never seen lyrics this them-core before. Also just the chorus.
“Though I know my heart would break, I’d tell them put me back in it, Darling I would do it again, if I could hold you for a minute, Darling I’d go through it again.”
Anyways Stan Hozier for clear skin.
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aarchimedes · 3 months
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for context: I read the hobbit first over the course of two years when I was like 13, but I'm only now starting to read lotr. having a blast tho!
anyways, reblog if you feel like it 🙌🏻
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stil-lindigo · 7 months
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the fox god.
a comic about a trickster.
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creative notes:
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all my other comics
store
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egophiliac · 29 days
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roll out the red carpet guys we're going to the SHAFTLANDS
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p4nishers · 7 months
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i cant get over the ball being so CLEARLY all for crowley i can't get over aziraphale trying to woo him with a WHOLE FUCKING BALL because that's what he knows that's what romance IS for him because he's been wanting to dance with crowley ever since dancing was invented and he's so stuck in time with the way he dresses and talks and he still thinks a dance is the high of romance AND HE MADE A WHOLE ENTIRE FUCKING BALL FOR CROWLEY JUST SO HE COULD DANCE WITH HIM like now it's so fucking obvious he gave away his BOOKS without a second thought and it was all for crowley he organised a whole JANE AUSTEN THEME BALL just so he could have an excuse to finally dance with the love of his life and i can't get over this i'm shaking my fists and pacing up and down he did not give a single fuck about anything other than dancing with crowley and HE BARELY TOUCHED OTHER PEOPLE'S HANDS WHILE HIS WHOLE FUCKING PALM WAS PRESSED TO CROWLEY'S AND i need to lie down
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eternallovers65 · 4 months
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The idea of poseidon only helping percy because he saw athena not helping annabeth is so funny because it shows how messy the Greek gods are like wdym you have a millennium old beef with your niece and the only reason you saved your kid it's so you can say you're better parent than her???
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pollyanna-nana · 1 month
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One of the most tragic and compelling aspects of Dunmeshi, to me, is that we’ll probably never know (unless Kui tells us lol) how Delgal actually felt about Thistle. I’ve seen people say that he genuinely cared for him as a brother and his journey to the surface was to save him from his madness as much as it was his people. I’ve seen people say that he saw Thistle as nothing more than a fancy accessory or tool that ended up going astray. Others I’ve seen (and personally agree with) say that the truth lies somewhere in the middle. But honestly, I think any one of these interpretations has the potential to be correct… and that’s just heartbreaking.
After all, Delgal is dead. Like, dead-dead. The very first chapter of the manga starts with his spirit leaving this mortal coil, taking that answer with him. And…
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How he talks about Thistle here… it’s interesting. He does not ask for him to be talked down, or captured or imprisoned, but instead “defeated”. Which Mithrun interprets as asking for his death… which is reasonable, because that’s likely how the vast majority of adventurers interpreted his words, too. Obviously as he was crumbling to dust he probably didn’t have the capacity to be particularly verbose or explain the complex backstory to how the kingdom ended up this way, but the effect is the same no matter how he may have felt with it. He asked for Thistle to be killed.
But… even in situations where he wasn’t under any such time limit to explain what was going on, he still seemed not to. Most glaringly:
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Yaad seemingly has no idea that it was Delgal’s fault that Thistle sought the demon’s power. Obviously he couldn’t talk to him about it because Thistle was, uh, a little out there by that point, but why didn’t Delgal explain? Was he embarrassed? Mournful? Couldn’t find the words?
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Delgal was scared of dying. He wanted prosperity at any cost, and how could Thistle possibly refuse? Did he even realize that what he was the one who pushed his own brother— One who basically helped raise him despite being a child himself, and in many ways is still a child— down this path? Or was it like watching an overzealous employee misinterpret directions?
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The way Yaad describes things here makes it sound like Thistle simply dug too deep in his studies and fell into madness, but we know that’s not true. Delgal didn’t “suggest” he learn magic, he wanted a mage who could help himself and his people defy death, which he admits to Thistle openly:
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So, why? Why not tell his grandson, at least, the truth of the matter? Did he worry it might make the remaining residents more likely to upset Thistle, and therefore suffer the consequences? Did he just not care? For what it’s worth though, Yaad does suspect the truth from Delgal’s behavior.
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He “always blamed himself” for his descent into the dark arts. This is just Yaad’s observation, and that’s without knowing that it was quite literally Delgal’s fault Thistle went down this path. So, why? Why was it all kept a secret?
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Of course, this made things ripe for the winged lion to manipulate to its advantage. Clearly despite knowing he’d pushed him into using it, Delgal still thought the lion was a force of good that was misused by Thistle as a result of his madness. His face in that last panel is particularly haunting. He looks terrible, gaunt and pale with overgrown hair and missing teeth. Had he gone mad, with grief and sorrow, as well?
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Could he no longer see Thistle the way he did when they were younger? No one can ask him, because he died long before the story even began.
To go back to the original question, well, how did Delgal see Thistle? None of the previous points make a definitive answer any clearer, and I think that’s just brilliant. And so, so tragic.
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*Dick hangs up*
Bruce: Huh.
Duke: Uh oh. What's going on, B?
Bruce: Dick usually says "I love you" when we hang up. And then he sings it and then he whispers it. This time he just said, "gotta go, dad"
Cass: Well, maybe... He's gotta go?
Bruce: Yeah, maybe. It just feels like Dick hasn't been around as much lately. Last week, he only came to four out of seven breakfasts, and he missed bat-equitment maintenance day to, and I quote, "train with Wally." He didn't even come over to watch that other unrelated Wayne family on Family Feud.
Damian: Their performance was- survey says- disgraceful.
Bruce: I mean, I don't want to just throw around the D-word but...
Steph: *Gasp* Dracula disorder?
Bruce: Drifting. As in we're all drifting apart. This was my worry when Dick moved out to Blüdhaven, that we'd see him less and less. And then from there, who knows what would happen?
Jason: oh my god, is it me driving him away? I'm always pestering Dick with annoying questions like "How much do you think your arms weigh? Like if you took them off your body and weighed them separately?"
Tim: *gasp* it could be my fault. The other day, when Dick and I went to the movies, I got a small popcorn to share and he said, "I wish you'd gotten a medium."
Damian: well, I know it's not me. I'm amazing.
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ruporas · 10 months
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wolfwood redraws (ID in alt text)
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wired-heartbeats · 3 months
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For the record I think Vox is being effected and possibly swayed by Val’s poison just like Angel is, the pink signifying it on Angel shows up on Voxs screen during and after interacting and being influenced by Val directly, when Vox is operating independently it isn’t an actual normal feature of his
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This paired with an earlier moment from episode 2 when Val first mentioned something had happened with Angel Dust, Vox seemed happy about the idea of Angel quitting
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“He quit? :D”
It’s interesting for sure, makes me wonder what Vox actually thinks about Angel, and more importantly, actually thinks about Valentino. He’s a business man, and clearly the Vees all teamed up (at least initially) because it helps elevate their status and power spread, they may be friendly with each other but we as an audience don’t actually know if there’s more to it as of now. But still, interesting
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I feel like, Young!Pathetic!Konig would do REALLY well with a Older!Lady-Cougar!Reader, She's maybe been divorced twice and looking ta maybe become widowed this time? May-haps her current hubby has wealth and power but is a few screws short of being a good man towards our poor reader, and there's that Pesky prenup that makes it so she won't get ANYTHING in a divorce...buuuttt if the bastard has a bit of an....*Oopsie doodle*.... Maybe she's looking for someone to take care of her problem, and maybe she likes this young soldier boy, whose all too happy to help with *whatever needs* she might have? Likes how desperate he is for just her hand on his arm, likes how he's on his need begging for just a *taste* Likes that she can teach him how to please a woman, how to make her moan like no lover before....Likes how willing he is to kill the man she's married too...
Asfdf my brain short circuited ❤️ I know I said somewhere that I don’t write cheating but if it’s cheating a bad man with an even worse man König….
CW: 18+ MDNI. Age difference, F!dom/M!sub undertones, praise kink, cheating (your husband is an old dick), mating press & other shenanigans, murder & mentions of blood, König is a lovesick yandere in the making.
It was just one night.
Just one night to satiate your needs because your husband for sure never takes care of them.
But then the young pup you picked off from the pub pops into your workplace next week... With a large bouquet of flowers in his hand and a box of chocolate in the other, your desperate little “detour” looks like a boy who just got laid for the first time in his life.
“König…” you sigh and pull him to an empty breakroom before all your colleagues see you’ve cheated on your beloved husband with a man at least ten years younger than you.
“You can’t be here,” you start, trying to ignore the happy, greedy stares this little—big—soldier gives you.
He’s all the equal to his alias, looking like a king in the making with those wide shoulders and that fierce stare. But his hands are shaking, he guides those eyes to the floor as he puts the gifts on the table littered with crumbs and coffee stains, switches his weight from one foot to the other once you start to tell him how it is.
He listens dutifully as you try to explain how it was only one night, that he was incredibly lovely and you had so much fun but that you can’t see each other anymore. It was wrong of you to do so in the first place, you’re married, and you’re so, so sorry... You were just so sad and lonely.
You tell him he’s a good man. That he’ll find someone special, some lovely girl to call his own. He will find someone who can give him what he wants, someone who will cover him with kisses for bringing her flowers and sweets.
You try to explain it to him even as you get slowly chased into a corner, you try to tell him what a catch he is even when you get pinned to the wall by a hard, lean chest.
You try to tell him that he’s the perfect man for some other girl even when he pulls your strings aside and bullies his cock inside you.
One minute is all it takes as he huffs and groans and fucks you against the wall, your moans and his grunts barely muffled by shirts and fists and lips and skin. There’s lipstick on his clean, white shirt after he’s done with you, teeth marks where his shoulder meets his neck, a spittle of cum on your skirt as he pulls it down with shaky hands.
“Sorry,” he murmurs in your ear. “I just had to see you. I missed you so much...”
Your cunt is what he missed, any woman could see that. Got a taste of it last weekend and wouldn’t let you leave his place at all; a small, miserable flat of 25 square meters, with burned rice on the stove and a thin, cum-stained mattress on the floor. He fucked you on that mattress, four times because on the fifth attempt to part your shaking thighs, you told this horny lad you need to go home.
“I know, big boy. I missed you too. But you need to go now,” you say to your pretty lover. Ugly but pretty, in his own way, his utter lack of cruelty is what makes him beautiful in your eyes.
“I don’t want to,” he dares to argue back and claims your mouth, kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before.
“You have to,” you moan. “König–”
“I love you.”
You’re huffing, panting into each other’s throats as you realize he’s even younger than you thought. Fell in love with your cunt so easily, this big runt, thinks it’s meant to be just because you’re wet and he’s hard.
“Don’t be silly,” you huff and look at the drowsy smile, the messy state of this lovesick man before you fight your way out of his lap.
You want to cry, wail, scream from the injustice. Where was this silly young golden retriever six months ago? Why didn’t you meet him when you were single and sweet? Now you’re trapped in an unhappy marriage with some old fool who was cunning enough to trick you into a ludicrous deal with him. The prenupt you discovered only later, after he swore that you wouldn’t have to work a day in your life and that everything that belonged to him would be yours one day. In reality, you’ve had to beg for every crumb, act the part of a trophy wife who also has to work herself to death. And he won’t even fuck you, only wants you to massage his back and his cock while you’re left all alone without love, without a single kind word.
But König never lets you go: not in a way you beg him to, no, he always shows up at your door. Sneaks into your lonely room from the window, licks you to ruin while you laugh and tell him no, fucks you three times a night, crawls under the bed when a cleaning lady almost catches you two. He shows up at cafes, restaurants, conferences, parties, everywhere where you go but your husband won’t.
He’s so reckless that you have to teach him to be more patient, more gentle. You guide his fingers and his head, even his cock, while locking your eyes with his so that he knows when he’s doing it right. You praise him for a good, unhurried fuck, cup his face and kiss him when he gives it to you nice and slow. Anyone can see he'd want to ram it in until there’s nothing left of him and you, but you kiss and kiss and kiss him until the poor boy moans and cums without permission, just from that tiny taste of intimacy and love.
He gets pets, smooches and caresses, blowjobs that leave him shaking and breathless on the bed. He looks like he has no brains left after you’re done with him, looks a little helpless when you climb on top of him and help yourself with his cock after he only just came.
He’s always up in no time, especially if you tell him he did well. Stares at you and your breasts like you’re a vision from heaven, drools on them once when you won’t let him have a lick. Mopes when you laugh at his predicament, and won’t stop brooding even when you give him a kiss on the tip of his nose.
But he’s never mad at you for long, not if you call him sweetie or your silly apple crumb, not if you let him fall asleep in your bed, partly on top of you. There’s always a wet spot on your back if he’s the big spoon, he begs you to sleep naked as he does, says it’s better for your health and then teases you with his fingers come morning, probably thinking he’s so very clever. Takes you to the theater and offers you expensive port wine and cake, tells you how to steal a car, how to shoot any gun. Gives you a hungry kiss in public when you tell him he has to act like he’s your cousin from abroad, vanishes for weeks to his training, sends letters instead of texts, and tells you he’s going to be a big boss someday.
It’s hard to imagine this serious but silly mess as an intimidating officer, not even when you know he has the size and looks for it. He’s too innocent and needy, doesn't know how the real world works yet. Thinks he’s immortal just because he’s young...
There’s a certain darkness in him, and you mistake it for the remnants of some turbulence of his teenage years, just some wrath of a boy who never got what he wanted. Who wouldn’t be a little pissed and impatient in their twenties? He probably doesn’t even know what he wants: hell, you don’t know what you want.
“Like this...?” He asks demurely when he lifts your knees to your ears and sinks his cock into you inch by inch, carefully as if it’s the first time you’re making love.
“Just like that,” you whisper as he spreads you so wide you can’t even breathe, fills you up deliciously, like no one else before. His eyes never leave you, not even when he uses your hole as a place to bury himself and all his bad memories, not even when he makes you squirt like you’re nothing but an oasis in a desert that never ends.
But you know he comes to you for other things than just that.
He comes to you for kind words, breathy praise, soft touches and ruffles of his hair. He comes to you for practice and to get his sense of self in order. He’s your pretty knight in shining armor when others have called him ugly, he’s your strong bull when others have ridiculed his disproportionate limbs. He’s your safe haven, your sunshine, your crazy, silly man, your soldier and your savior, and he soaks up your love and attention like a sponge: every drop gets gulped down like he’s a man dying of thirst. He doesn’t take sips, he doesn’t know how to, and you on the other hand don’t know how to quench the raging drought inside him, long after yours has been satiated.
You sleep like Romeo and Juliet just before their death, and fuck like rabbits in the spring. He takes you in the car, in the closet, in the toilet, in other people’s beds, even at the alley one night.
“I love you,” he always says after he has spilled his cum – it’s like a ritual or a prayer, and you always reach for the baby hairs of his neck in return, and give them the gentlest caress.
“I love you too,” you whisper one night – it just slips when you stroke his cheek. It never comes as a surprise that he gives you the most miserable pair of puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.
He knows about your situation, knows enough that you’re trapped and unhappy. But you never knew he saw you as a victim. If anything, you feel like he’s the victim here. Poor boy, saving what little he has for a future with some woman who knows nothing about true love... You’re not the one for him, you’re not even a silly little sex kitten any young soldier would want to play with. You’re just some bored, abandoned wife who wants to feel something, mean something to someone. But you love him enough to know that you’ll let him go when he wants to move on. As bitter as it makes you feel, you know you’ll give him to someone younger and more beautiful, someone who will love as passionately as he does. Anything to make him truly happy.
But the next evening, König doesn’t climb in through your window. He uses the door, the inside door, and you jump from the bed and hurry to him in your nightgown, the only gift your husband ever gave you.
“I killed him for you,” he says, your soldier boy from Austria, your good, good boy with a good, big cock.
You only now see that his hands are stained in blood, and nothing shakes anymore: your wannabe sniper is as calm as ever when he confesses he’s murdered someone.
“...What?”
He comes to you and cups your face, the blood on his hands both wet and cold. You’ve never seen him so peaceful, not even after he’s had a good fuck. The boy who no one ever loved has turned into a man, but what kind of man… You shiver in his clutch, unsure if you’re about to suffer a heart attack from fear or love.
“He didn’t suffer... Much,” he says, his cracked lips only a breath away from yours. “Knives can be messy…”
You gulp while staring into the deep, dark abyss of his eyes, the innocent baby blue nearly swallowed by the darkest of all loves.
This is not how you thought things would go… You were supposed to give the old man the finger and divorce during the summer. Put your finances in order so that you can escape. Maybe fuck König on the side and see if he’s still the man of your dreams once you’re happily divorced.
Now he’s telling you you’ll marry as soon as possible, or that if you want a summer wedding, he can wait a few months… He tells you you have nothing to worry about, he won’t go to jail, not this time. He’ll take care of you now; he just got promoted. You don’t ever have to be sad again.
“Don’t worry, my love,” he says when all words have finally escaped you. “Now we can be together. Forever…”
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It’s SO funny to me when I see movie fans writing alex as this daddy dom, himbo guy because Alex is so!!!
If you scream at him a little too loudly he’ll probably cry, just not in front of you. He falls in love really hard and deeply but it takes him so long to accept that he can also be loved hard and deeply! He has the highest grades ever 1) because he’s smart and 2) because he bases his self worth on making others proud, on being useful. He overworks himself, he runs to clear his head until his feet bleed, his coffee is bitter but so are his thoughts. He’s a softie, who writes his bf love letters and who probably giggles and kicks his feet while reading what henry writes back to him. He can absolutely destroy you in a debate, don’t even try to argue with him he’ll win each time. He talks a lot but he has never been listened to. His rivalry with Henry started with a bad meeting and also with constant comparison, because everyone compared them both, and it was just a constant reminder than Alex will never be enough. Henry was born on the spotlight, Alex wasn’t. Henry was white, Alex wasn’t. Henry had everyone’s support, Alex didn’t. *He is a jester and a devoted knight. He knows hundreds of fun facts and will tell you. He loves Texas despite the bad memories of his childhood and teen years it brings. He feels guilty for making his sister worry so much. He loves his mother despite everything, and she loves him too, but they have an unusual, almost unhealthy relationship. He needs to prove himself every minute of the day. He works as a distraction. He puts on a façade around everyone, golden boy, America’s heartthrob, no one sees his house key, his glasses, the hundreds of papers hidden under the windowsill, the pills stolen from Liam. Someone teach this man healthy coping mechanisms. He is a child of divorce, and this affects him more than he lets on. He is actually a huge nerd. He grew up poor. He was in denial about his sexuality for years. He definitely has abandonment issues. He might be impulsive sometimes (storming Kensington palace after being ghosted by Henry) but he usually thinks things through, and is very reasonable. He makes lists, tons of them. He has undiagnosed adhd and this has shaped him as a person in a way I can’t even describe. Before Henry, bea, and Pez, he didn’t have any friends aside from Nora and his sister. He grew up catholic. He is a romantic. And a dork. He is just as passionate about history as Henry is. But Nora makes friends, and Alex ends up with acquaintances who think they know him because they’ve read his profile in New York Magazine, and perfectly fine people with perfectly fine bodies who want to take him home from the bar. None of it is satisfying—it never has been, not really, but it never mattered as much as it does now that there’s the sharp counterpoint of Henry, who knows him. Henry who’s seen him in glasses and tolerates him at his most annoying and still kissed him like he wanted him, singularly, not the idea of him.
Always the talker, never the heard. Always good, never enough. Always ogled, never seen. Always the first son, never Alex.
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blueskingdom · 5 months
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genuinely obsessed with this genre of lando and oscar
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these are just them leaning into each other, which. adorable.
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two below sent by @slugesh 🧡
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justaz · 3 months
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thinking about klance.
keith who is always left behind and abandoned, either voluntarily or not. keith who has trouble trusting people and talking to people and getting along with people and-…keith having trouble with people in general. keith who is used to fending for himself and not relying on anyone bc the two (2) times he’s done that, his parents and shiro (died, left, disappeared), didn’t end well. keith who despite finding shiro again couldn’t help the gap forming between them as his brain and heart insist that something will happen again and shiro being here isn’t permanent. keith being proven right in season 2/3 and being left alone again.
lance who is SO trusting that he comes across as a bit naive. lance who worked hard to get where he is, who studied and practiced day and night to be at the top of the class. lance who always fell short and just missed the cut and ended up a cargo pilot. lance who only excelled once keith was gone but was stuck living in his shadow. despite the fact that iverson was mean to keith, keith was his favorite student and iverson always held a grudge for lance taking his place and was downright cruel to him at times. lance who started a rivalry w keith in his head bc he was determined to prove that he could be better than keith. lance who was moved from blue to red paladin, following after keith yet again. lance who worked hard to prove that he was worthy of being red paladin but always failing bc he was never keith, he was never good enough.
klance who found what they lacked in each other. lance who was there for keith when it seemed like the universe was crumbling down around him. lance who stood by keith’s side and told him what he needed to hear, supporting him being leader and helping lead the team together. keith seeing lance as an equal and relying on him the way lance relied on him. keith who was loved and supported by someone who never left, lance who was seen for who he was and who never doubted him or his place on the team. klance who turned on each other.
keith who turned into what he hated and leaving lance behind. lance who saw keith as weak and selfish for leaving him the team behind. keith who came back to a lance who was so angry and upset, but who never left his side bc lance was just Like That. lance who was so hurt and upset, who said cruel things in the vacuum of space, but keith never saw him as less for it, who never got angry enough to hurt lance back.
at the end of everything, lance searching for keith to sit at his side as they watched the sunset bc lance will always be at keith’s side. keith who told lance how relieved he was and hopeful bc he knows what lance is capable of and how much he needs him. klance being what the other needs, holding each other’s heart in their hands but never taking the opportunities to crush each other. lance who never left keith behind, keith who never saw lance as less despite the vitriol he spat at times.
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rawrsatthetree · 12 days
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I’ve seen people compare Julian Devorak to Astarion, and honestly I think you’re all embarrassing wrong.
Gale Dekarios is Julian Devorak.
Astarion is Count Lucio
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omaano · 6 months
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Rex meets R4 once he's somewhat recovered from his 200 years of dying-not-dying in the vacuum of space. I cannot wait for you all to read @dharmaavocado's The Old Guard AU fic they wrote for the @rexobibang!
If I Ever Leave This World Alive
Out in the vast well of space, Obi-Wan dreamed a man. He drifted from system to system, eternal and endless. Time and the cold had rendered the durasteel shackles around his wrists and ankles weak and brittle, and he had snapped them at some distant point in the past. Arms and legs free, he curled inward, knees drawn up to his chest. The man died. And then he lived. In which Obi-Wan and Rex may never leave this world alive.
Check out the other fantastic art pieces by @flowerparrish HERE and HERE and by @inqorporeal HERE !!
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